Page 44 of Dangerous Fortune

The last thing I want to do is sit across from this man. I force myself to focus on the game but find Rodrigo’s presence overwhelming. The tension between us crackles like electricity, threatening to ignite at any moment. I glance briefly at my hand, willing my mind to calculate the odds and probabilities. Perhaps I can run up the pot and then lose so he can have the satisfaction of beating me. “Bet,” I say, pushing a stack of chips into the center of the table, trying to appear nonchalant.

“Call,” Rodrigo responds, matching my bet without hesitation. His eyes bore into mine, daring me to make a move.

The other players fold one by one, leaving just Rodrigo and me. As the dealer reveals the flop, I can feel my concentration slipping. My heart pounds in my ears, drowning out the logical part of my brain that usually guides me through these situations.

“Check,” I mutter, hoping that playing in reverse will give this man what he desires.

“Raise,” Rodrigo smirks, tossing more chips into the pot.

“Call,” I reply, silently berating myself for staying when I should have left the moment I saw him.

“Fold,” I declare when the next card is revealed, conceding the hand. Rodrigo rakes in the pot with a grim smile. “Congratulations,” I say, forcing a smile.

“Thank you,” he replies. “But the night is young, and there’s more to play for than just money.”

I swallow hard, knowing every move and decision could determine not only my fate but those of the people I care about.

The glare from the crystal chandeliers stings my eyes as I push back from the table, the scrape of the chair against the floor barely audible over the din of the club. Rodrigo’s henchmen materialize like shadows. My pulse quickens, and a bead of sweat trickles down my temple.

“Leaving so soon?” Rodrigo’s voice is low and menacing.

“Seems like a good time to cash in.” My heart races as I assess the situation, searching for an escape route. The men smirk, their bulky frames barring the door like a solid wall.

“Tell me, Abby,” Rodrigo drawls, standing abruptly, “how is it that you win so easily?”

I laugh, desperation biting at the edges of my voice. “I just lost a hundred thousand, so it’s clear that I don’t win all the time.”

He moves within inches of me, his breath hot against my cheek. “Perhaps you threw the game so I wouldn’t discover how you cheat the system.”

“There’s no system to cheat,” I reply as my hands tremble. “Some days you win, and some days you lose. I gesture to a few chips I have left on the table. “It looks like it’s your night.”

“One more game?” Rodrigo’s lips twist into a cruel smile. “I’ll give you a chance to win it back.”

“Keep it.” I grab my purse and stride toward the door, praying he got whatever he wanted. Will the men let me pass, or is TheSerpentso powerful that no one will stop him?

I force myself to maintain a façade of indifference as I pass the men. Before I reach the street, the larger of the two grabs my arm and plunges a syringe into it. The pain is sharp and sudden, followed by an icy chill that spreads rapidly through my veins.

“Wha–” I gasp, struggling to remain upright as the world spins around me. “What did you do?”

“Consider it a little insurance policy,” Rodrigo smirks as he joins the men. “You may be a skilled player, Abby, but I always hedge my bets.”

As darkness closes in, I hear him issue one last command to his minion. “Bring me, Ari Bianchi.”

My heart lurches in my chest, and I fight to stay conscious – to find a way out of this nightmare. But the darkness is relentless, pulling me under like a riptide, and I can do nothing but surrender.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Enzo

Blood drips onto the marble floor as Fausto stumbles through the doors, his breathing shallow and strained. The sharp scent of iron fills my nostrils as I rush to his side, supporting his weight to keep him from collapsing.

“Enzo,” he gasps, wincing with every word. “Ari... kidnapped. Rodrigo and the Cartels... they took Abby too.”

My heart stops at the mention of Ari and Abby. “What the fuck happened?” Anger slices through my chest as I help Fausto ease into a chair, his face pale and sweat-soaked.

“What the hell is going on?” Andre roars as he walks down the hall with Franco.

“Rodrigo’s taken Ari and Abby,” I announce, my voice calm despite the rage filling every cell in my body. My brain flickers, and I know I can not give in to the fear that wants to take over.

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