1
Deuce
There goes another one.
Kicking and screaming.
Every night, it’s the same scene.
They get lured in by the excitement, addicted to the high of the win, but when they lose… it’s somehow our fault they decided to bet their life’s earnings at the blackjack table or chance their entire savings with a single spin of roulette.
The guards drag the drunken shmuck out the doors while his trophy wife chases behind with her clicking heels, huffing about us being thieves. Claiming it’s all rigged. She’s right. Everyone knows that about Vegas. The house always wins.
Unless…
It's someone of importance to us. Someone we need to win the favor of. A man who has the power or capital to get us what we need. And then… they get invited to the private room. Then the stakes are real.
Hemsworth lands in less than forty-eight hours, which means I need to ensure that everything is set for him this weekend. I pull out my phone and step away from the railing, the roar of the casino dulling behind as I walk through the heavy glass doors.
“Well, I’ll be fucked sideways. If it isn’t Deuce O’Rork.” Lola’s raspy voice purrs through the line, causing me to smirk.
“Miss me?”
“I always miss you, rough rider. Some parts more than others.” The parts she’s referring to heat to her seductive tone. “It’s been a while, Deuce. I was starting to think you’d forgotten my number.”
I didn’t forget. I just saw that look in her eyes the last time she woke up in my arms, and I knew I needed to call it quits. Besides, it’s never a good idea to mix business with pleasure, and right now, Lola is a key source to our business.
“Been busy,” I tell her. “Stealing from the rich is a full-time job.”
Her laugh is like a rich shot of bourbon—smooth and sultry, tinged with a burn of the life she’s been dealt. She’s a pretty remarkable woman, having been through all that she has and still managed to come out on top. It’s fucking admirable. Now, she’s running one of the most successful topless clubs on the strip. And she’s also got quite the lucrative side hustle going on, which is why I’m calling.
“So, then what do I owe the pleasure of this call?” Her tone draws serious.
“Have a special order for you.”
“What kind of trouble we talking? Bondage? Nubile? Midget?”
I can picture her now—legs crossed, red mouth curled in a wicked smirk, eyes sharp enough to cut glass as she taps her long fake nails on her wooden desk. The same desk I’ve fucked heron a time or two. In spite of my decision not to sleep with her again, she’s an incredible lay. One of the most talented women I’ve been with.
“Need a private dancer.” I ignore my dick’s response and get down to business. “Someone high-end and willing to do whatever the client asks. Preferably early twenties.”
I’ve done my research, and Hemsworth has a taste for young brunettes. Each of his wives was nearly half his age and all of them had dark brown hair and big tits. They all looked as if they could pass as his daughter. Which reminds me. I need to inform Torch that Evie Hemsworth will need a suite this weekend—and a babysitter. We need to make sure the girl doesn’t interfere with our agenda.
“That narrows the field.” Lola clicks her tongue like it’s gonna cost me a pretty penny. I expected as much. But I’ll pay whatever is necessary to seal that hundred-million-dollar deal. If Hemsworth agrees to partner with us, we’ll be able to secure our next location. Then soon enough, we’ll be taking over the strip.
“You know I’m willing to pay. This isn’t a bachelor party. It’s leverage. So, I only want the best.”
“I’ll send a few girls over. Different flavors so you can decide what suits your needs.”
“Thanks, Lo. And I know I don’t need to remind you that discretion is of the utmost importance, so make sure they don’t have loose lips.” We don’t need any girl running their mouth and screwing us over. Hemsworth will cut all ties if his face ends up in the tabloids.
“No. I don’t need reminding, Deuce. My girls know what’s at stake if they run their mouths. Now, how much are you paying?”
“Ten grand for the weekend. Plus, tips.” The tip will be decided upon Hemsworth’s financial commitment at the end of his stay. If he commits the entire amount, I’ll be inclined to give the girl double what she earned. “You’ll get the same, Lola.”
“When do you want them to come?”
“Tomorrow. Noon.” I’ll need a day to make sure the girl is ready for the job. I also want to make sure Doc checks her over and that she’s clean. Lola does her testing, but we like to be extra thorough.
