I laugh despite myself. "You make it sound easy."
"It's not. But it's better than the alternative." She studies me. "Dante's different with you."
"Different how?"
"Less controlled. More..." She searches for the word. "Human. Usually he's all charm, cold precision and calculated moves. But the way he looks at you? That's not calculation."
"Possessive is what he is."
"Maybe." She sips her wine. "But possession implies he cares enough to want to keep you. Trust me, that's better than the alternative."
Before I can respond, Rafe calls from the other room. "Ladies! Stop plotting our demise and get in here. We're starting."
Alessia grins. "Time to show them what we're made of."
Back in the main room, seats have been arranged around the poker table. Dante pulls out the chair beside his, and I slide into it, hyperaware of how close we're sitting.
"Ground rules," Matteo announces, shuffling cards with practiced ease. "No cheating, no crying, and no shooting each other. Alessia, that last one is specifically for you."
"I shot him once," she mutters. "You'd think he'd let it go."
"You shot Matteo?" I can't help asking.
"In the leg. He deserved it." She settles into the chair beside Matteo, and the look he gives her is so intense I have to look away.
"Stakes?" Luca asks.
"Thousand minimum," Rafe says, then grins at me. "Unless the lady needs a handicap?"
"The lady," I say sweetly, "can handle her own stakes, thanks."
Rafe's grin widens. "So this is the famous Bianca. Dante's been talking about you."
"Has he?" I glance at Dante, who looks completely unbothered.
"Nonstop," Enzo drawls. "It's getting annoying, honestly."
"I mentioned her once," Dante says.
"Once every conversation," Matteo corrects with amusement. "We've been taking bets on when he'd actually bring you around."
"And?" I shuffle my cards as they're dealt.
"Rafe thought you'd run for the hills before he could. I had more faith." Matteo leans back. "Though I'll admit, I'm impressed you're still here after dealing with Adrian Morelli."
So they know. Of course, they know.
"Adrian's an idiot," I say flatly. "But you already know that."
"We do," Rafe agrees cheerfully. "Weasel bastard. We told Dante he should've just killed him and been done with it."
"I considered it," Dante says, his hand finding my thigh under the table.
"So, how's it working out?" Luca asks me directly. "The arrangement."
"You mean being used as collateral for my ex-boyfriend's gambling debts?" I meet his gaze. "It's going about as well as you'd expect."
The table goes quiet.
