“Why do you keep bringing up your chips?”
The door rattled on its hinges. “Ms. Miller, Madeline,” Veronica’s voice came from the other side.
“Just a minute.” I exhaled as I lowered my voice. “May we please avoid this uncomfortable situation? Let me leave and make an excuse for the locked door. Wait for a few minutes and then you can leave.”
“Maddie, I don’t know a damn thing about your chips.”
I waved my hand. “Goodbye. Don’t come see me again. The man I remembered is gone. It’s time I live in reality. I don’t know you, Mr. Kelly. I don’t know if I ever did.” I lifted a finger, silently asking for his compliance.
With sadness in his expression, he nodded and stepped to where the door would hide his presence.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. “Veronica, I apologize. I needed a moment.”
Together Veronica and I walked down the hallway toward the foyer. Before we reached the archway, she handed me a new receipt. “Here, this will match the one you were given last night. We have decided to increase one of the tables to seven players. It’s an acceptable number. No one who arrives this evening will be eliminated. However, as stated, only eighteen will advance from tonight’s play.”
I looked down at the receipt in my grasp. “Thank you, Veronica. I won’t mention what we discussed. You can believe me.”
“I’m still cheering for you.”
I let out a long breath and turned. Mitchell was waiting in the foyer, his coat draped over his arm. Once we were in the taxi, I simply said, “The receipt isn’t an issue. The chips are secure and I can get another key at the desk.”
“Maybe the phone fell out of your purse in the taxi last night?”
I turned toward Mitchell as a smile came to my face. “Are you actually helping me?”
“No, I’m helping me. It’s nearly three in the afternoon. You and I spent the day trying to track it down. At least it’s dead. It can’t be traced. It’s a long shot, but the boss may go for it.”
“Thank you, Mitchell.”
We remained silent until we entered the hotel. Thankfully, the woman at the front desk was not the same person as last night. Once we reached my room, I inserted the new key. As the door beeped, I didn’t even try to stop Mitchell’s entry. He was a step behind me.
Both of us stopped at the sight before us. My eyes opened wider in disbelief.
Fuck.
Patrick
“Beckman bristled some, but he knew he was between a rock and a hard place,” I said, talking to Sparrow, Reid, and Mason.
Sparrow nodded. “What have we learned about Hillman?”
“He’s staying at the Four Seasons. Lake view executive suite, three suites,” Reid said.
“He’s not coming alone,” Sparrow assessed. “I want Sparrows everywhere. Fucking get them on the hotel floor if you can. I want to know what he’s doing every minute. Can you get his room bugged?”
“I can,” I volunteered. “I have a crew waiting for just that. The thing is, you know his men will sweep. They’ll take out every camera or recording device. The placement will be us welcoming him to town. His removing them will be his fuck you back.”
Sparrow’s dark eyes blinked shut. “It was fucking easier when no one was the wiser. Hillman’s dad would never have looked for some of the high-tech shit we have today.”
“That’s why he’s rotting in jail along with McFadden,” Reid said. “Patrick’s right. My advice is to have the crews flying low, both at the club and the hotel.”
“The club?” I asked. “I’ll be there.”
“Concentrating on the cards, I hope,” Sparrow replied. “You can’t do it all. Mason is going to be your shadow. You work on winning, and Mason will watch Hillman and Elliott.”
I let out a long breath. “With me in the tournament, there are thirty-one instead of thirty. It’s not a big deal, but—”
“It means thirteen will be eliminated instead of twelve,” Reid volunteered.
“It also will make a difference in the cards,” I said. “With seven players versus six, the cards are spread thinner. Chances of getting the one or ones you need are diminished. There’s a better chance for it to fall to someone else.”
“I’ll tell Beckman to put you at a table of six,” Sparrow said.
“He will,” I replied. “I already took care of that when we discussed the buy-in. My guess is Elliott and Hillman will also be at tables of six.” I couldn’t say that it was Madeline who I was worried about. Most tournaments had six people. She was used to that.
Would having seven players complicate her winning?
Maybe it would be better for her to be eliminated tonight. Having her out of the tournament would be better for my concentration, but if she were eliminated, she might leave town. I didn’t want that either.
Reid’s deep voice brought me back to the subject at hand. “...watching the security at the Four Seasons. I’ll tap into the hallway of their rooms. All three of the rooms are near one another. I also found out that Elliott is staying at the Waldorf Astoria.”
“Not far from the Four Seasons,” Sparrow said.
“Yeah, I thought of that,” Reid said. “It could be a coincidence.”
“Or it might not be,” I said.
“The Waldorf is old,” Reid went on. “Their security doesn’t measure up for the price tag. It’s easy to access. You know there aren’t many places in this city I can’t see.”
“Unfortunately, one of those places is Club Regal,” Mason said.
“Yeah,” Reid agreed. “Private clubs around the city are dark. They work to keep them that way. I can watch who comes and goes from the street or alley, but that’s about it. Keeping their members’ activities hidden makes people freer with their money and inhibitions. If the members know for certain that what happens within those walls stays within those walls, they’re more likely to patronize.”
“Are you watching any other hotels?” I asked, curious about the Palmer House. “If this is McFadden’s money, there could be more.” I didn’t fucking want him to see me enter or leave, but there was a bigger picture than Madeline. She might come first for me, but Chicago came first for Sparrow.
“We have Sparrows flying low around all the high-end hotels,” Sparrow said. “They’re keeping their eyes peeled. The big finale of the tournament is tomorrow night. Tonight is for observing and figuring out who is in our city.”
The four of us spent the next few hours going over the reports that had been collected from the capos. There had been some increased activity at the shipyards. It could be nothing or it could be related. It might not be related and still be the tip of an iceberg. A few of the gangs near the South Side were reporting increased activity.
Hillman had arrived. He and his entourage flew into a private airport west of the city.
“He’s not trying to stay under the radar,” Mason said. “I don’t like it.”
“It seems out of character,” I added. “McFadden’s men had perfected the art of ruling from behind the veil.”
“They needed to with McFadden’s position,” Sparrow said, now pacing back and forth.
Rubio McFadden was involved in government. The veil of secrecy was essential.
“What about Elliott?” Sparrow asked.
“He arrived by private jet, too,” Reid confirmed. “However, it’s his modus operandi. Big oil money with all the luxuries that come with it.”
Ruling and running the Sparrow world was a juggling act. It always was—every day, every hour. Sometimes there were only three balls; other times there were ten. Right now it felt like fifteen. I presumed it was my new obsession with Madeline, but something about this felt different.
Too many balls.
Not enough hands.
That was ridiculous because for the last six months or more, we’d had more hands than we had during the takeovers. We had Mason back where he belonged. Nevertheless, I couldn’t shake the feeling.
“I’d rather be watching.”
“You’ve got this, man,” Sparrow said.
“That message was from Lorna,” Reid said. “She has dinner ready. I’m going to eat and then come back here and get the different hotel security cameras infiltrated and recording. I’ll also keep a close eye on Club Regal from the outside.” He looked my way. “You’re welcome to join us for dinner. There’s always plenty.”
While the four of us often met up in Sparrow and Araneae’s apartment with Lorna, Reid’s wife, and Laurel, Mason’s wife, for breakfast, dinner was more spread out. It gave each person a bit of freedom. “Nah, I’m going to clean up and grab dinner at Club Regal. I figure I need to make my presence known.” I turned to Mason. “You want to come with me?”
“I’m going to eat here with Laurel. She’s been gone for the last few evenings. Something is happening with her research, making her cautiously excited. Hell, I didn’t think it possible, but she’s sleeping less than me. I wake and she’s in the office reading and running equations. I consider myself pretty smart, but damn, I don’t have a clue.” He scoffed. “I’m glad she’s excited. I want to hear what’s been happening.”
I nodded. “I hate that you have to leave her to babysit me at the club.”
“Not babysitting. I’m just your extra set of eyes.”
I probably needed it, but not for the reason everyone thought.
He patted my shoulder. “I’ll clean up too, and be to Club Regal before they assign the seats. You watch the cards and keep up your earnings. I’ll keep an eye on the room.”
“Okay,” I smirked. “Cleaning up might not be a bad idea.” I eyed his blue jeans, t-shirt, and colorful arms. Not everyone felt the need to wear a suit every day. My gaze went to his hair longer than ours. His hung past his chin, a far cry from the haircuts we’d had in the army. While the buzz cut stuck with me, it didn’t with Mason. “How about a haircut?”
Mason laughed. “I’ll see you at the club.” He stopped. “I want a list of all thirty-one players and their most recent picture and biography. That way I’ll know who everyone is.”
I nodded, looking at Reid. “I can pull it up so you can get to Lorna.”
“I can do it. It will only take seconds.”
Of course it would.
I stood, stretching my arms over my head. The suit coat from earlier was gone and the sleeves were rolled up on my shirt. It wasn’t that I didn’t do casual. It was that I didn’t do it often.
Sparrow and I walked toward the steel door. He laid his hand on the sensor. A moment later we were waiting for the elevator.
“Is there something else?” Sparrow asked.
“What?”
“I can’t put my finger on it. Should I have assigned playing in the tournament to someone else?”
My stomach twisted. I didn’t lie to these men. I would risk my life for any one of them. We knew one another’s darkest secrets. Maybe that was the thing. Maybe to me, Madeline hadn’t been a dark secret, but a light one. A ray of sunshine that while gone, reminded me what it had been like to have someone special, someone like these other men had found. Exposing her now would darken that memory in a way I wasn’t prepared to do.
Not yet.
“Nah,” I said as we stepped into the elevator. I hit A for the floor with the apartments while Sparrow hit P. “I’m just thinking about all of it. Hillman’s brazen move bothers me. I can’t decide if Elliott is an issue or not. And then there are the other players in the tournament. I’m worried there’s more I’m not seeing.”
The elevator stopped on A.
Sparrow reached out to hold the door open. “You’re right.”
I looked at my friend and boss. “I am? About what?”
“I’ll have Reid run background checks on the other players in the tournament. Maybe we’re too focused on Hillman to see what is right in front of us.”
Shit.
That wasn’t exactly what I’d wanted.
I didn’t say that. Instead, I nodded. “Don’t worry. I’ll win tonight.”
“I’m not,” Sparrow said with a grin as he released his grip and disappeared behind the closing door.
Madeline
I couldn’t believe my eyes. The bed was made, the room picked up. Those were things I’d expected. That wasn’t what had my attention. Sitting on the bedside stand was my handbag. Beside it was my phone, plugged into the charger. I turned from the sight to Mitchell. His eyes were equally as wide.
“Go,” he said, nodding toward the bag, “check the contents.”
The bathroom door, the one we’d passed without thought, opened.
I let out the tiniest of gasps as my neck straightened.
In the doorway was a man I knew too well. His presence dwarfed Mitchell’s. It wasn’t necessarily physical presence. It was obvious that this man was in better shape, his muscles more defined, but he was an inch or two shorter. However, his height didn’t detract from his omnipotent power that emanated from him as Mitchell and I both took a step back.
“Andros.”
“Boss.”
Our greetings came simultaneously.
Ignoring, Mitchell, Andros set his sights on me.
The black button-down shirt he wore was unbuttoned at the collar with his sleeves rolled up to near his elbows and tucked into the trim waist of his black slacks that covered his long legs. With each step forward, his dark eyes probed my gaze for answers I couldn’t give.
Closer and closer he came until he reached up, cupping my cheek.
My flinch was involuntary, almost going unseen.
Almost.
His face tilted as his thumb ran gently over my cheekbone, inspecting his latest marking. “Mitchell, leave us.”
I wanted to send Mitchell a silent plea to stay.
How crazy was it that I wanted him near when in reality I hated him too?
Nevertheless, I couldn’t pull my stare away from Andros. Doing so would be considered a rebuttal. Those didn’t occur concerning Andros without consequences. I could thank Andros for my lessons on remaining calm and indifferent. I’d learned them well and they helped me in poker as well as everyday life. The slightest twitch or change of expression could be easily misconstrued. Verbally disagreeing would be even worse.
The door to the hallway opened and closed, only the audible noises giving me the intel as I continued staring unblinkingly at Andros Ivanov.
“My dear, what have you done to cause you to fear me?”
My head shook. “I’m not afraid. I’m surprised.” It was a bald-faced lie and we both knew it.
“Ah,” he said with a grin as he leaned closer and his lips came to my other cheek. The combination of coffee, whiskey, and overpowering cologne filled my senses. The mixture was a catalyst increasing the dread bubbling within my stomach.
Exhaling, I took a step back, and reached for the buttons on my coat. My tone was a forced one of lightheartedness. “What brings you to Chicago?”
“There is business at hand but none as significant as you.”
After removing it, I laid my coat over the back of one of the chairs. As I did, my purse and phone across the room again caught my attention. “Is that...?” I nodded toward the bedside stand. “...I thought I’d lost it.”
“And yet you didn’t tell me.”
Casually, I walked past the mountain of a man and nonchalantly opened the handbag. My entire body relaxed as I worked to stifle my sigh of relief. Everything was as I’d last seen it. The receipt, my identification, my credit cards, and even the cash were all in place. The only thing missing was the phone, and that wasn’t missing but lying beside it.
I let out a breath and turned to Andros. “I was embarrassed. I told you I was looking for it. I fell asleep last night not even realizing it was missing, or so I thought. Where...?”
“It
was here when I walked in. The purse was lying on the bed.”
“And you opened it?”
“To check for your phone. After all, it needed charging.”
“Yes,” I said with a nod. “Of course. Thank you.”
“Tell me, Madeline, do you have secrets within the handbag or maybe the phone that you don’t want me to know?”
“No, Andros. How could I have secrets from you?”
“That’s what I wonder too.”
I gestured around the hotel room. “I don’t have anything to offer you except water. I could call for room service. Wine? Something stronger?”
“So accommodating.” His smile grew. “You’ve learned your place well. Isn’t that so?”
The condescension in his statement added to my unease. It was part of his power play. Thankfully, I’d learned to play.
Lifting my chin, I met his gaze. “Yes, Andros. You’re a marvelous teacher.” When the silence built, I asked, “May I ask about how—?”
“Our concentration is here with your job at hand,” he interrupted.
“Yes, of course. Are you staying?” I looked around. “Here?” Our gazes again met. “With me? Are you coming to the tournament?”
“I couldn’t be away from you.”
I had no idea what was happening or why he was here, but I would place money on it having less to do with a yearning to be near me and more about something else—something bigger.
Wasn’t that what Patrick had said?
How could Patrick possibly know about Andros Ivanov?
Patrick.
Oh my God!
The realization twisted a knife in my chest. Patrick hadn’t taken my purse. I’d thought the worst of him—I’d accused him. No wonder he’d been perplexed. I couldn’t think about that now.
I looked back to Andros. “So you will stay?”
“Not here.” He looked around with an air of superiority.
“Are there people here—at the tournament—that you want to see?” I shouldn’t ask, but curiosity was difficult to ignore. “Hillman or Elliott?”
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