Page 12 of Poker
“Excuse me?” the man scoffs indignantly.
“You heard me,” I snap. “Get. Out.”
When he makes no effort to move, Malcolm shifts to stand behind him, ready to force him out if necessary.
“You can’t be serious.” Mr. Neero halfheartedly chuckles. “You’re a rich woman because of me.”
My brows hit my hairline almost as quickly as I reach beneath my dress and yank my gun out of the holster to point it at his head. I’m grateful that my arm isn’t shaking from my barely controlled anger. I’d hate to put a bullet in the wrong person.
“Get. The. Fuck. Out.”
“You heard her,” Malcolm says.
Grant finally makes his way from the bar toward the table, his hand on the weapon at his side. He doesn’t say a word, instead acting like a silent predator coming upon his prey.
Mr. Neero shoves back from the table and rises to his feet, buttoning his Armani suit jacket as he does. His face is a mottled red, and if it were possible, I’m sure smoke would be billowing out of his ears.
“You haven’t seen the last of me,” he seethes.
“You’re suspended for one month,” I tell him, regretting my three-strikes rule. This is only Neero’s second, so my hands are tied. “The next time you accept one of my invitations, I’d appreciate it if you only bring your money and not your judgment.”
With narrow eyes, he spins on his heel and storms out of the warehouse. Grant follows him to make sure he leaves, although I know Conrad would ensure it from his position at the exit.
“Any other grievances before we continue?” I ask, willing my heartbeat to return to normal.
For a moment, it pounded against my ribs hard enough to crack my chest wide open. Not from fear but adrenaline. As much as I hate confrontation, being Mistress Green gives me confidence and bone-deep knowledge that I can handle myself.
When no one speaks, I gather the cards and put them in the automatic shuffler. The last two hours of the game pass without a hitch, and Stefan is the big winner of the night, walking out with over a hundred grand in his pocket. I leave with thirty thousand after giving my security team the ten thousand each I pay them for each game.
Not bad for a few hours of work.
CHAPTER7
POKER
The hardest thing I’ve ever had to do is walk away from her.
“Why are you still here?”
Leaning against the building, I watch Conrad out of the corner of my eye. I’m sticking to the shadows, more comfortable in the dark than the light. It serves me well because as players filter out of the warehouse, they don’t even notice I’m standing here.
“I need to talk to Meri,” I say, easily falling back on her real name.
Conrad tenses. “Mistress Green,” he snaps.
I huff out a laugh. “Cut the shit.”
“You’re not needed here.”
“Maybe.” I shrug. “But the only way I’m leaving is ifMistress Greendemands it of me.”
“I could make you if I wanted to,” he counters, the threat clear.
Slowly, I lean down and slide the knife he missed out of my boot. Then, so fast he doesn’t know what hit him, I press the blade to his throat.
“Sure about that?” I taunt.
Conrad’s eyes widen, and if I didn’t actually like the man, I’d really show him what I’m capable of.
