His mouth twists into a grin. “Royal flush.”
He grabs the cash that’s piled up in the center of the table.
“Great,” mutters Logan sarcastically, loyal as ever, even though I can tell he’s keeping something from me.
I grit my teeth. The whole situation is really wearing on me.
“So, we’re having fun,” starts Everest, visibly nervous.
Logan snorts.
“Are you narrating our lives, now?”
Well, he’s still Logan. I guess that’s a relief.
“I meant,” snapped Everest, “that it’s not work. The Feds have backed off. So, I don’t see why we shouldn’t ask Seraphina to join us. Damien, you have the remote control to the door, right?”
I stare at him. He must be going mad, after all. He’s suggesting the pet join us? He’s fucking insane. Doesn’t he understand the risks? Doesn’t he realize what could happen the minute she stepped out from the protection of that apartment? Doesn’t he have the least awareness of those motherfucking vultures, Angel, of the Feds who may have backed off but who are definitely not finished with us, of... Vale?
No, of course he doesn’t. He’s Everest motherfucking Grant, the live Ken doll. The guy who’s begun to buy into the bullshit. That we’re a respectable company, rather than a glorified criminalgang.
I could strangle him right now as he stares at me with pleading eyes. And this time, it’s not because I own her, and he has no right to speak her name.
Well, it’s that, but it’s not only that. It’s because I’m horribly aware of Vale’s searching, gloating eyes. He’s waiting for me to make a false move.
I stare at the deck of cards, wondering how the hell I’m going to get out of this one, as Everest taps his foot impatiently. I think Vale’s heavy breathing is going to drive me mad.
Logan is the first one to break the silence.
“Who’s Seraphina?”
Everest glowers at him.
“The pet.”
“Oh, right.” He shifts in his seat, visibly uncomfortable. “Well, whatever Damien says.”
I stare harder at the deck of cards waiting to be shuffled by the silent Igor, Vale’s eyes burning the back of my neck. I’m about two steps away from bashing his motherfucking head in.
“Good idea,” he smirks. “She must be pretty lonely, stuck in that apartment all the time.”
My eyes meet his, and I know he’s taunting me. Waiting for me to call his bluff. Waiting to prove to the others just how possessive I’ve grown.
Forget Angel, forget the Feds. The real danger to my pet is in this fucking building. I’ve used all our connections to fortify it, to make it bullet-proof, and accidentally locked the wolf in with the sheep.
Maybe I should bring her here. Keep her under my eye. Protect her. Can I protect her better here, when she’s with me, or if she’s up there alone, locked away in the apartment?
He has a fucking key. They all have keys.
I’m uncomfortably aware that the only way to truly protect her is by proving, once and for all, that she’snotleverage. That I don’t care about her.
I’m a very good poker player, but I’m not sure I’mthatgood. Still, I have to try.
“Fine by me,” I say casually.
“I’ll go get her.”
Everest springs up in a rush, grabbing the remote control to the bookcase I’ve reluctantly handed him, clearly worried that we’ll change our minds.
