Page 39 of Dark King (Advantage Play 2)

“We will,” Ace says, apologetically.

With a nod, Jack slides out from the booth and adds, “Thanks for breakfast,” then walks to the diner’s exit without a backward glance, making D laugh even harder.

“I like that guy. Will you pay for my breakfast too?”

Ace’s grin is hesitant before she playfully nudges me in the ribs and rests her head against my shoulder.

“Put it on his tab,” she answers for me.

“See? I knew I liked you too.” Fork in hand, D winks then shovels another massive bite of scrambled eggs into his mouth, feeling the same relief I am that we might actually be able to pull this off.

Chapter Nineteen

Kingston

The next evening, I adjust my tie while staring into the mirror as the weight of the world feels heavy on my shoulders. After leaving the diner, we cracked open a bottle of wine for Ace, and I poured myself a few fingers of whiskey. We sat on the balcony overlooking the city without exchanging more than a handful of words. And today, I’ve spent my time preparing for going head to head with Burlone the best that I could. Now? Now, it’s go time.

I feel like I’m already in one of Ace’s damn poker games and have pushed my entire fortune into the center of the table. With the cards I’ve been dealt, I’ve played the best hand possible. But there aren’t any real guarantees it’s good enough until I see it all play out. The problem is that I’m not dealing in cash. I’m dealing in lives. Multiple lives. If it were just mine, I’d keep my chin raised and a cocky smile firmly placed on my face. But it’s not just my life. It’s Ace’s. Regina’s. Possibly my men. And countless innocent women who have all unwittingly bet on me too.

With a snap of D’s fingers, I shake my head and eye him in the mirror.

“Everything ready?” I ask, clearing my throat.

“As ready as it can be.”

“Did Jack pull through?”

A confident smirk tugs at his mouth and he hands over his cell with an image pulled up on the screen. Looking at the picture, I see a screenshot of a piece of paper with Burlone’s ugly mug shot printed in the right-hand corner with the official Federal Bureau Investigation letterhead scrawled across the top. I zoom in and begin reading the police jargon typed in Times New Roman before reaching the end where I find Burlone Allegretti’s signature written in blue ink.

Grinning, I hand the phone back to Diece then grab my suit jacket from a hanger and slide it on. “Gotta hand it to him. Looks like he held up his end of the bargain.”

“I’ll say.” D’s tone is enthusiastic. “I already forwarded it to the rest of the poker attendees.”

“And?”

“And they’re in. Or at least they say they are. There are no real guarantees in this kind of situation, though. Are you sure you want Ace to go?”

Grimacing, I tighten my jaw and grit out, “I don’t think I have much of a choice. If I don’t show up with her, Burlone’s men won’t let me in the door. And if I don’t get in, I can kiss Regina and the rest of the plan goodbye.” My chest tightens. “We’ve worked too hard to let that happen.”

“So you’re going all in.”

“And praying I’ll suck out and beat that bastard at his own game,” I finish.

With a heavy pat on my shoulder, D ushers me out the door. “We’ve got him, King.”

We better.

“And what about Dex?” I probe, mentioning his half-brother. We haven’t really discussed his part since he showed up in my office courtesy of Diece. “Is he going to step up and play his part?”

“I sure as hell hope so. He’s a gamble, King, but you saw the letter from Regina too. You saw how he acted at the mention of her getting hurt. In a way, I think he has just as much at stake as us. So yeah, I think he’ll back us.”

“Well, let’s pray like hell that he does because, without him, our story loses most of its validity. And we can’t let that happen.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “We can’t. Jack said he’ll leave the back entrance to the estate unattended so Dex can get Burlone and Regina out of the building without being flagged. He also said you and Ace have immunity, so you can walk out the front door without being touched.”

We’re walking down the hall toward the garage as I scan for Ace. She had wanted to have a glass of wine before we left to settle her nerves, but I don’t appreciate the anxiety that gnaws at my stomach with her absence.

“Perfect. I don’t need this coming back to bite us in the ass,” I mutter.

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