Page 62 of Ruthless Heir

I continued to scan the floor, stopping at a section with a large group of private security monitoring the players.

There, in the middle of the fray, I spotted her.

Breathtaking was all I could think to describe her. Her hair flowed loosely down her back, and her deep purple gown, though simple, clung to her every curve.

My stomach clenched as I took in the two pieces of jewelry she wore, a set of long earrings and a platinum cuff on her wrist. Two things I’d given her while on one of our secret trips.

I resisted the urge to run my fingers through my hair in frustration.

She knew what we had, and she still fought it.

Well, this time around, it was all or nothing. No matter how much it hurt. I couldn’t do this on-off thing anymore.

“They look as if they are nearing the end of the play,” Amir observed as he moved in to stand by me. “Do you think she is here for work or pleasure?” He answered his own question a second later. “I say work.”

There were only three reasons Devani Maya Patel crossed The Library’s threshold. To gamble, to work, or if she knew I planned to oversee the evening, to fuck.

Since Kir was the brother scheduled for tonight, the latter on the list wouldn’t have crossed her mind.

She lifted a glass of champagne to her lips.

The fuck? I resisted the urge to stalk over and swipe the flute from her fingers. Then I noticed she never took a sip.

It looked as if Van was gracing us with her presence tonight.

She lifted the edges of her cards and gave them a noncommittal glance before making a comment that had the table laughing.

She weaved a wicked spell, dazzling men and women alike into losing concentration on the hands they played. She raised the stakes by twenty thousand by throwing in a handful of chips.

All but two players followed suit. Then she went higher, pushing it to a hundred grand. This left her with two other players.

Ahh. Now we had her victims. Leonard Gustov, a well-known fashion designer with ties to a Polish syndicate and the matriarch of the Sonnita Familia, Marianna Sonnita.

From my side, Amir observed. “Watching the queen in action is a masterclass in spying.”

“When did she get here?”

“About two hours ago. Considering her future relationship status, this was the last place I expected her to show up. Before opening, Kir called and told me to reserve a table for Ms. Patel. I followed orders. What do you think she is up to?”

“It looks like she is preparing to stick a dagger into one of the two feral cats pretending to be kittens left in the game with her.”

“I thought you should know. I worked freelance for her before I relocated to King Holdings. Sonnita is Interpol.”

I loved the word freelance. It covered anything from hacker for hire to arms designer, as in Amir’s case.

“Explains how her family gets away with the things they do.”

Amir gestured to the room around us. “It does help to have people in the right places to protect our interests.”

I smiled, hearing Arin’s words on Amir’s lips.

“I couldn’t agree more.”

By sending Rey into the CIA, Arin had ensured a way to navigate around scrutiny into some of our less-than-lawful activities. In exchange, access to King contacts allowed the agency to gain entry into our world, something they’d never be able to infiltrate without much time and effort.

“Should I set the usual private game for yourself and Ms. Patel?”

“No. That won’t be necessary.”

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