Page 1 of Wild Card (Advantage Play 1)

Prologue

Kingston

“Take a seat.” I motion to the chair in front of my desk while keeping my face void of any expression.

The pathetic fucker in front of me plops into the chair, and I watch as his beady little eyes dart around the room, desperately searching for anything that might give him a clue as to why he’s been called here.

He’ll find out soon enough.

I let the silence feed his anxiety until a light sheen of sweat collects along his forehead. My mouth twitches at how easy this is going to be.

Looking at his watch, Diece quirks his brow, and the action reminds me that I have more important shit to do than interrogate a rat. Diece is my right-hand man, and if I’m being honest, one of the few men I really trust, especially when I find myself surrounded by traitors like the one in front of me. Diece and I have been friends since we were little. He was groomed for his position as much as I was, though I don’t think either of us is comfortable with our new responsibilities.

Leaning forward, I rest my elbows along the top of my desk. The movement makes the rat in question gulp thickly.

“So…uh…B-Boss? There a reason you called me in here?” he stutters, trying––and failing––to look me in the eye.

“Have you ever been in this office before, Vince?”

“N-no, sir.”

“Do you know who this office belongs to?”

“Your father?” It comes out as more of a question than an answer.

I shake my head. “It did belong to my father. Just like it belonged to his father before him and my great-grandfather before that. This office belongs to the head of the Romano family, Vince. So let me ask you again…who does this office belong to?”

With a quick glance in my direction, he mumbles, “It’s yours.”

“A few of your associates have told me you feel differently than that,” I explain before pushing myself up from the seat and walking around the desk. “That I haven’t earned the position. That I’m not strong enough or smart enough to lead the family. That I’m too soft.”

Diece laughs, grabbing Vince’s attention before his neck snaps back toward me.

“W-what?” he asks, feigning confusion, though that same soft stutter makes it clear he understands the shitstorm he has created for himself. With his eyes wide, it’s as if he’s surprised by my audacity to voice such a ludicrous accusation.

“I know. I found it quite surprising, as well. I mean, who did you expect would take over the Romano family after my father died when I’ve been groomed for the position since I was six years old?”

His index finger starts tapping against his upper thigh, and my gaze shoots to Diece. Stepping forward, Diece drops his burly hands onto Vince’s trembling shoulders, making him flinch while simultaneously keeping him in the chair when I know he’s contemplating bolting from the room. He wouldn’t have gotten far, but still.

“I asked you a question, Vince. I suggest you answer it.”

Raising his chin, he looks me straight in the eye, and I know he’s putting on his bravest face. “I don’t know what my associates have told you, but they’re lying.”

I shake my head. “Let me ask you something else, Vince. Were they lying about the fact you’ve been in contact with Burlone Allegretti?”

His Adam’s apple bobs up and down before Diece leans over him and digs his fingers into Vince’s wrists. Vince starts to struggle when my cold voice freezes him in place. “I suggest you cooperate. I have a few questions, and if you can answer them truthfully, then you have nothing to be afraid of.”

His lower lip quivers, but he stops fighting long enough for Diece to restrain him to the chair with a set of zip ties around his forearms and wrists followed by his ankles around the legs of the seat. Vince might think he’s fooling me by his compliance, but I’m not the idiot he thinks I am.

Once he’s secured, I continue my interrogation as the sweat that’d been collecting around his hairline finally drips down the side of his face before gathering along his chin. Unfortunately, he can’t wipe the moisture away, so it just hangs there, threatening to finally fall while still clinging desperately to the sniveling asswipe it belongs to.

Blinking slowly, I snap my focus back to the traitor in the room.

“Tell me, Vince. Why did you reach out to Burlone?”

“W-what? I didn’t—”

I cut him off. “Now, now, Vince. We both know you’re lying to me, and I think you’d be wise to change your strategy if you want to get out of this situation in one piece. Answer the question. Truthfully, this time.”

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