Page 1 of Dark King (Advantage Play 2)

Chapter One

Ace

Every inch of my body aches, but it doesn’t stop my blood from boiling. Pacing the opulent room across from Kingston’s like a caged beast, I let my anger take hold.

Asshole. Sonofabitch. Rat bastard. Motherfucker.

I can’t believe he sent me away. That he doesn’t trust me. That he won’t let me talk to him. I only offered to help, and he doesn’t even have the decency to let me do that much!

Jaw clenching, I continue marching back and forth along the thick, padded carpet beneath my bare feet when I hear the distinct sound of the door handle twisting.

As soon as Kingston comes into view, I begin my verbal assault.

“You sonofa—”

Kingston raises his hand, and my mouth snaps shut.

I hate the control he has over my body, but I remain silent even though my inner bitch is clawing to get out.

“I need your help,” he begins, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe and giving me the space I desperately need.

His comment makes me pause. Tilting my head, I assess him closer. His short, dark hair is messy as if he’s been running his fingers through it. He looks like he hasn’t slept at all, and the dark, silk tie that is usually tied to perfection around his neck has been loosened hinting at his anxiety. He’s usually so put together that seeing him this way lessens the anger pulsing through me.

With a defeated sigh, I surprise myself when I murmur, “What do you need, King?”

“I need you to teach me how to play poker.”

My brows raise, and my eyes widen as I point to my chest. “You want me to teach you how to play poker?”

His mouth quirks in amusement before he takes a hesitant step into the room and closer to me, sensing the icy barrier I’d built between us slowly melting.

“Yeah, Ace. I want you to teach me how to play poker. You’re the best. And we need the best if we’re going to beat Burlone at his own game.”

“We? As in the precious Romano family?” The bitterness seeps into my voice as I recall how he chose his family over me, even though I’m the one who offered to help in the first place.

Raking his fingers through his hair, he tugs at the roots before scratching the scruff on his chiseled jaw. “It’s nothing personal, Ace. It’s just the life of a made man. But when I said we, I meant you too. Earlier, you offered to put your life on the line to save my sister. You still up for that?”

I don’t miss the way he actually asks for my input, even though the minor twitch by his right eye lets me know how much it kills him inside to request something instead of demanding it. Memories of my childhood assault me, quickly followed by the knowledge that his sister is experiencing the same hell I had no choice but to survive. Am I willing to put my life on the line to save his sister? Am I being impulsive by even considering it? I don’t know. But I do know that I hate Burlone. I hate him with every fiber of my being. If I had a gun in my hand and Burlone was in the same room with me, I wouldn’t even hesitate to pull the trigger. I’d give anything to erase him and the memories that haunt me.

After a few seconds, I come to a conclusion and take a cautious step toward Kingston. When I’m within reach, his large hands grab my hips and tug me into him until our fronts are plastered together. Closing my eyes, I rest my head against his chest and let his warmth seep into me before murmuring, “Yeah. I’ll do whatever it takes to help your sister. But you need to promise me something.”

“And what’s that?” His chest rumbles against my ear.

“That you never let Burlone touch another person ever again.”

“What are you suggesting, Wild Card?”

He knows what I’m suggesting. He’s not dense, but a small part of me is aware this is a test. Kingston wants to see if I’m bold enough to request something so despicable.

And I am.

Pulling away from the warmth of his chest, I look up at him, my gaze on fire.

“I want you to kill him.”

Chapter Two

Ace

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