Iwashere to poison Dagon’s drink and see him dead. Now, I’m here for two reasons.
First, kill Dagon.
Second, fulfill my duty to the Nighthawks… by taking Ember back with me.
EacheligibleNighthawk is given the opportunity to capture a woman to bring back to the fortress. Greyson was the first—he found Scarlett a year ago, did some horrible shit to her because he thought she helped kill his twin, and upon realizing her innocence, claimed her.
Not long ago, he told me I’m next. I’ve been dragging my feet over it and bemoaning the issue of having to deal with this shit, butnow… my fucking God, can I see the appeal.
I have no clue what Ember’s doing with Dagon, but I do know that she doesn’t belong with him ortohim. She’s belonged to me since the moment I first laid eyes on her, over a decade ago.
Chapter Two
Max
Imanage to wrangle my rage into check over the next thirty minutes… and that’s when I get my head back into the game. My mission may have changed, but I can’t afford to let my calculation take the hit. I’m underprepared, which means I need to be smart.
Killing Dagon and getting away is one thing. Killing Dagon and taking Ember is an entirely different story—something that ought to require much forethought and planning.
Fuckforethought and planning. The girl I fell for as a teenager is attached to one of the worst men in the country—world. I don’t know why, and there’s obviously a very long story I’m missing, but I don’t need to know. I don’t require background or digging. All I require is to kill Dagon and take Ember out of here, then interrogate her and punish thefuckout of her for disappearing on me.
The first step to that requires me to gain an audience with Dagon, and the only way to do that is to piss him off by taking too much money from his casino.
That’s why I move onto the Blackjack tables. At these tables, I’m not playing the other players—not really. I’m playing thecasino, and pocketing money from the bottom line, not from high-ballers that deserve a lesson in humility.
Most people who approach the blackjack tables are idiots. Not because they don’t understand the spoken rules, but because they don’t realize that you have to be a mathematical prodigy totrulyget this game and be able to win.
Math was always my strong suit. I used to helpEmberwith her math homework—in other words, do it for her and prep her for tests. There was a time in my life when I was a slave to that girl, incapable of denying her anything.
She took that and disappeared on me, only to go toDagon.
“Sir.” One of the floor managers finally steps up to me, after I’ve pocketed a total of 500k. “My congratulations on your fortune tonight.”
It’s not fortune or luck; it’s strategy and math. Instead of saying that, I paste a stupid smile on my lips and lean into the drunk, lucky fratboy archetype. “Thanks, man,” I say brightly, running my eyes up and down the manager. Short hair, beady eyes, a suit jacket half a size too big—just enough to hide the weapon no doubt holstered beneath.
This isn’t just a casino manager, it’s a guard. Half the staff here are armed, and this guy’s no different.
“The owner is requesting a word with you, if you’d care to join him for a drink in the back room.”
Bingo. Dagon occasionally fishes patrons at his casino out and offers them a chance to play for him professionally. I’ve done my background on him; I know how he operates. Tonight’s hit would bestunninglyeasy if I didn’t have Ember to account for. Now, nothing will be simple—this evening’s bound to turn into a total shitshow.
“Wait, really?” I widen my eyes. “I swear, I wasn’t cheating—”
“I’m well aware. You’re not in any trouble.” The casino manager rolls his eyes, buying into the act.
“Oh.” I bob my head in a nod. “Aight, then. Yeah, I’d love a drink. You guys have whiskey?”
The manager’s lip curls with dislike. “I’m sure we can get something sorted. Please, follow me.”
Thebackroomis behind a velvet curtain in a roped-off corner of the casino. I cased it the first night I came here, but it’s remained empty until tonight. Until Dagon.
The manager pulls open the curtain, and—
Fuck.
There she is. She’s as much a punch to the gut now as she was when I spotted her a few hours ago.
Catlike, glittering blue eyes. Legs for days. Fair skin that I’d like to sink my teeth into. She reclines on a velvet armchair, posture straight, eyesempty
