Page 40 of Inescapable Ties
“Where do you want to go?” Emilio asked.
“Not sure yet,” I replied, a glimmer of mischief shimmering in my eyes.
Separated from the world above by a ceiling of age-worn brick and bathed in the seductive dimmed lights, The Underground Vault was like a hidden treasure chest, overfilled with promises of excitement and danger. The air was thick with the raw energy of high stakes, desperate hopes, and reckless thrill seeking. I took a slow breath, savoring the smoky aroma that was a unique blend of fine cigars, old whiskey and lingering perfume.
“Sir?” One of Emilio’s men had walked up to him. “If we could get your assistance for a moment.”
Emilio didn’t bother hiding the pissed off look on his face. “Why did I hire you if you can’t figure things out?”
The man flinched, and I didn’t blame him. Emilio could be scary when he wanted to be.
“I’ll be right back.” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Ok,” I responded.
I felt a slight disappointment that we wouldn’t be together, but it was okay. This was Emilio’s lifestyle, and I knew what it was going to be like when I married him.
I perused the tables, looking for something to play, when I saw a very familiar face.
“John!” I said, and walked towards him. He was at a poker table with another gentleman.
“Mrs. Luciana,” he said, smiling at me. “Good to see you.”
“Good to see you, too! What are we playing?” I asked.
The sound of the other gentleman’s scoff was like a loud, mocking laugh, echoing in the room and cutting through the chatter of the other players. It was a sound of superiority and ridicule, sending anger coursing through my veins.
His face was like a stone wall, his eyes cold and judging as if he had decided long ago that women were only meant for domesticity and not the thrill of high-stakes gambling.
“Don’t underestimate Mrs. Luciana, Fabio. She won my Rolex last time we were here.” He extended his arm, showing off the one of three that existed in the world.
Fabio raised his eyebrows. He was still skeptical of my worth as an opponent, but he motioned for me to join them.
The two men placed their ante in the middle of the table. Fabio placed a ten-ounce bar of gold, and John placed two straps of ten thousand. I mirrored John, reaching into my envelope and tossing twenty thousand dollars on the table.
The dealer—a middle-aged woman with piercing green eyes and a no-nonsense demeanor—glanced at me and my companions. With an experienced hand, she began dealing our cards with the precision of a seasoned artist.
The game consumed me, its hold on my attention unbreakable. With each round, we raised the stakes, daring each other to push further. As the last hand was dealt, I eagerly reached into my envelope, only to discover that I had exhausted all of my cash. The thin piece of paper could only hold so much money, and it seemed I had reached its limit.
“God damn it,” I said.
“Oh no,” John said. “Maybe bet the ring again?”
“I’ll sew it to her finger before she does that,” Emilio’s voice came from behind me.
He reached over me and dropped one hundred thousand on the table.
“Sorry I’m late, Jaws,” he said as he wrapped his arms around me from behind.
“S’ok,” I responded.
John flipped his cards over to reveal a three of a kind. Fabio threw his cards on the table, not bothering to contain his smugness as he revealed his straight flush.
A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of my lips as I carefully placed my cards down on the table. My hand was a royal flush, the highest winning hand in the game.
“What the fuck?” Fabio seethed, slamming his fists down on the table. “There’s no way.”
“Restrain yourself, sir, or I’ll have you kicked out of the establishment. C’mon,” Emilio gently tapped my shoulder. “Let’s get out of here.”
