“So,” Zane changes the conversation, reclaiming his mellowed, charming demeanor. “Who’s this Costello guy?”
Enzo is the first to point him out. “The guy in the grey pinstripe suit with the pink tie. Don’t mention family to him otherwise that will be an automatic death sentence for you.” Enzo gives a weak smile when Zane looks at him somewhat alarmed. “Costello’s family was killed in a planned home invasion some years ago. He never remarried, never got revenge, but one of our guys says he’s plotting to come down on those behind it big time, just when they least expect it. We were told it was the Valens, but apparently the evidence says otherwise.”
“The more blood and gore you talk, the more you’ll appeal to him,” Carlo chimes in, adding some additional information. “Just not when it’s to do with his family.”
“He wants bloodthirsty men, which is why he loves Giovanni,” Enzo adds, just as Giovanni comes back with a new drink.
“He used to love you, too,” Giovanni announces, crossing his arms over his chest. “Before you became such a sissy.”
“Fuck off, Gio!” Enzo roars back, unable to keep his irritation down. “Gloat about Carmello if you want, but Costello will eat that up. Carmello is one man of a few we all had suspicions was involved in the home invasion, so hearing that you attacked him will give you brownie points.”
“Hell, Zane, offer up how you killed our guard,” Carlo says, helping give Zane as many careful pointers are possible. “And whatever you do, do not bet less than five grand per round.”
“Yeah, otherwise you’ll be laughed out of the room,” my father interjects, shocking us all that he has some input into this conversation. I know it’s all for selfish reasons, but I appreciate it nonetheless. “I’ve given you a generous wage, use it. You’ll need to outshine all of my boys and especially my golden girl.”
“Yeah, Amelia’s a bit of a poker ace,” Enzo praises, shooting me a wicked smile. He taught me how to play my best at this game, but over the years, having come to parties like this, between a flirtatious nature and being able to keep a poker face at all times, I’m good to take the loot, especially when Giovanni plays to win. True, I don’t win always, but when I do, I love to make sure I rub it in Giovanni’s face.
“It’s all about knowing when to bluff,” I tell them, offering a sly smile. “But seriously, Zane, please say you’ve brought more than a measly few grand.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I have something much more valuable to offer than a couple of grand,” Zane comments, his voice twisted slightly with intent and I’m intrigued to know what. “Don’t worry, sweetheart, let’s just go play.”
“I’ll meet you down there,” my father announces, leaving us all as he heads toward the door where a few of the men have been coming and going all evening.
Everyone decides to follow, but apprehension rushes up my spine, forcing me to hesitate in joining what could potentially become a bloodthirsty game. As Enzo and Carlo walk off and Zane goes to join him, I know I have to say something. With Manuel not here and Lorenzo gone, my only concern is Zane.
“I don’t want you to give up your life for me,” I say, stopping him from trailing after the rest of the men. What Billy said has me recounting all the steps we’ve made. Zane’s sacrifices are going to be the death of me.
“I’m not,” he defies my worries, killing them all with a confident ooze. “I’m just merely taking a break from it until I have what I want... you.”
Again, my heart race slows before galloping into a melody of erratic beats, skipping one every now and then. He’s hell-bent and with every day – hell every minute – that he’s here, still loving me, I believe more than this will end the world.
“Now, let’s go play poker so I can treat you to something expensive with the money I’m about to steal from Giovanni as I ruin him at this game.”
“Who said you’re winning it?” I ask, cocking my hip a little to place a hand on it. I decide to listen to better judgment and believe in everything Zane has to offer – tonight I have nothing to lose by doing so. “You’ve never played against me before.”
“Okay,” he begins, sarcasm taking him over, “I’ll be buying you something expensive with your money.”
I laugh loudly, so amused by his comment. “You haven’t played against me before, Maverick.”
“Sweetheart, I can see through all of your poker faces,” he muses, fixing me with an all-knowing glance.
“We’ll see,” I tell him and waltz off, deliberately applying attitude and sensuality into every step I take, but stop when I come to the top of the stairs. I hear all the men gleefully bantering, and I turn back to Zane. “You coming, sweetheart?” I tease, throwing his own nickname for me back.
When he races toward me, I retain the urge to smirk at how excited I feel with the thrill of the game. I remember this is a game, and I need my poker face to be the best it ever has. I can’t let Zane beat me at a game I’m known for slaughtering men at. I am a poker ace, a champ who has cleared many a men out of wads of cash – even my own brothers. Tonight, I want to destroy Giovanni’s ego a little and take a little too much from Zane. Let’s just hope the odds are on my side and luck loves me.
As I move into the room, I’m quick to pick up a glass of whiskey waiting on the bar right by the entrance. My senses are overpowered by stale smoke, fresh cigars, and the smell of piss as every guy tries to wage a war on who will win and come out the bigger guy. The room, as always, is dimly lit, smoke dances around the beams of light cascading from the tiny chandeliers hanging over the large poker table.
I catch sight of my father standing with Costello. The moment he catches me in the room, I see his eyes light up and he gives me a wicked grin. I cross the room to him, knowing that if I don’t, it will insult the man. I remind myself about hierarchies and how this life works – I might be royalty, but men like Costello sit with my father in the thrones of glory. I have to obey, praise, and kiss the fuck up to men like him.
“Roberto,” I greet him, putting a smile full of seduction on my lips. I then, once close enough, kiss his cheeks with a more passionate hello. Costello takes the moment to put his arm around me, keeping me close. “Not in front of my father, Roberto.” I push him off, looking at my father who – while looking infuriated – remains calm enough to allow Costello to at least show some manners.
“Spoilt sport,” he says and relinquishes his hold on me.
I fall away, stumbling a few steps until I hit someone. I turn and see Zane. He looks emblazoned with Costello and I know that show of manhandling did nothing to make Zane an enamored soul to a man he has to kiss the hand of. I brace myself with a fake exterior complete with grin and friendly nature.
“Roberto, this is-”
“Zane Maverick,” Costello interjects, finishing my sentence. He puts his arm out and moves me out of the way to stick out a grubby hand to introduce himself to Zane. “We’ve heard a lot about you, but I’ve been waiting to hear from the man himself for too long.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Zane welcomes, putting his hand into Costello’s and giving him a sharp, confident handshake.
Costello brims with delight at the grip he’s given.
“It’s good to finally meet a man who shakes hands like a man. Maverick, I’ve heard a lot about you... both good and bad, but with a handshake like that, I see you as a positive addition to our businesses.” He then smirks at him. “We’ll just have to see how you fair at a game of poker with some of the best players I’ll only ever deal with.” He drops his hand away and steps back, turning to face me. “Are we playing for keeps?” he asks me, his eyes darting from my face to indulge upon the sight of my ample breasts in my skintight dress. “Because I’d sure like to make you a bet you can’t decline.”
I clear my throat, choking down upon the lump forming. “It’s money and nothing else,” I counter, admonishing his advances as I feel the heat radiate from both Zane and my father. “You’ve been trying for years to get what y
ou want from under my father’s name, but I’m fiercely loyal to him.”
Costello snorts with laughter.
“I know, I know,” I agree with him, not allowing him an opportunity to take advantage of my father’s standing. “My track record with my father isn’t stellar,” I comment, deliberately taking a step back to stand before my father. My lies are tinkering on the edge of my lips, waiting to be set free. “But we’ve worked through our issues and I know where my loyalties stand. Roberto, you think the Abbiati women want you, but you’d be sadly mistaken. We just like to get an arousal out of you.”
“You’re a little spitfire,” he comments, more turned on than disappointed apparently. “Doesn’t lessen my affection for you in the slightest, Amelia.” He then grins at my father. “She’s definitely Tori’s daughter more than yours.”
My father’s face hardens furthermore at the sound of my mother’s name, but he manages to cover it up with a momentary roll of his shoulder and an overwhelming grin. “I always hoped she would be the epitome of her mother, and I can’t be unhappy that she is. It just means she’s a cause of distraction for men like you, Roberto, while I steal the game.”
“I deliberately wore this dress to help the cause,” I goad, putting my arm around my father’s to show an alliance with him. I give Zane a wink and see him relax a little. “Now, I have my whiskey and I have my money. All I need now is a seat and dealer.”
“Right this way,” Costello speaks, gesturing me over to the table. “Maverick, it’s two card poker, are you familiar?”
“Haven’t played in years,” Zane comment, a worrisome tone taking him over.
“We’ll get you up to speed,” my father announces confidently, giving Zane a wink.
I release my father and take a step forward, brushing deliberately up against Zane as I walk past him. I notice how everyone’s eager to play, so I take my seat and wait for the rest of them to take their own. Disappointment sparkles within as I see Zane has been butted around the table until the only seat he can take is between Andrew Rossi - sex pest extraordinaire – and Costello himself. We all set our drinks down and while some of the men smoke, Enzo and Carlo are watching me intently from across the large table. I try to withhold the urge to grin playfully because they know all about my tactics with distracting men enough to fold or worse – fuck up.
I take a moment to calm down, looking at the others around the table. It seems the same crowd has gathered and none of them are impressed with Zane’s sudden appearance at the high flyer’s table. I know they think he’s some insubordinate who’s all but married his way into power, but I know Zane; he has one of the best poker faces possible.
As we’re all dealt out two cards and we all take our money, Costello clears his throat.
“I say we start off with a smaller wager,” Costello comments, reaching into the inside of his pocket. He pulls out his own wad of cash, all of which appear to be one hundred dollar bills. He looks at Zane. “Can you keep up, Maverick? Or do we need to break out the kiddie table?”
“Nah,” Zane chuckles and reaches into the inside of his own jacket. “I like that we’re not taking this slow.” He pulls his own money out, looking quite pleased with himself.
“Let’s start with a grand as the token bet,” Costello announces and throws his money in. “I know we usually start bigger and blow it all, but let’s just build some anticipation,” he trails off, not emphasising.
No one hesitates to follow suit and as I draw back from throwing my own bet in, I pick up my drink and sit back in my seat. I watch the dealer begin to shuffle the cards before he tosses three cards out face down in front of him before continuing to deal us all our hand. As I pull my cards up to look at them again, I feel pleasantly happy with an eight and nine of spades. Silence beckons around us all and as I pull my cards off the table, I feel smugness settle as I hope there’ll be more spades in the dealer’s lot.
When I look up, I see Zane’s eyes are on me and I make sure nothing gives away how happy I am with my draw. Likewise, he gives nothing away apart from offering me a needy look. It’s sultry and heavy on me, and I feel the need to move a little on the spot. My movement breaks the moment.
As three cards are revealed, Costello is first to add another bet, upping his wager to two grand. My father and brothers join, even Zane does. Andrew folds as do two other men, but the rest of us throw our money into the middle and await the new card. I notice a four of spades and a two and king of hearts and feel confident to continue. The dealer gives us another card and I see another nine of diamonds. Again, I wait for the rigmarole of whether to put a new bet in or not happening before the final card is revealed as a nine of hearts.
Everyone bets a fourth and final time, Enzo and Carlo folding. I know I have a three of a kind so I go with it – it’s only four grand. When we’re all done, a deafening silence erupts and we all wait with bated breaths.
“Show,” the dealer commands and we all hand our cards over, revealing. I feel satisfied with my three of a kind kings, but when I hear Zane announce what he has, my stomach bottoms out.
“Two aces,” Zane lays down his cards, matching them to the two aces laid out by the dealer.
“I guess all the money goes to our new recruit!” Costello announces, putting his arm around Zane proudly. It’s one reason I love playing poker with the likes of Costello – there are no such things as sore losers. Unless you count Giovanni, that is.
No one says anything as a new game rolls around. Before I know it, we’re on to our sixth game, and it’s anyone’s game to win the jackpot tonight. No one is a clear winner, but I’m just waiting for Costello to demand we put all in and then some. It seems my brother is growing tiresome of Zane having another win when he sits back, arms crossed over his chest in petulance.
“Beginner’s luck,” Giovanni snarls as Zane pulls the money closer to his body. He then releases a small burst of mirth before growing rapt with intent. “I say we really up this ante.”
“What do you have in mind, Giovanni?” Costello asks, watching Giovanni while the dealer prepares for another round.
With a self-righteous smile on his face, Giovanni reaches into his side pocket and my heart thuds slowly to a halt. I see him place my mother’s pearls down on the table before he reaches back into his pocket and lays out a diamond necklace that I remember Zane bought his mother with his first wage check. My heart flutters and struggles as I look at those perfect pieces of jewelry set out as the biggest insults ever. I can see in my peripheral vision as Zane’s body bridles with prickling anger.
I look wildly at Enzo then Carlo, back to Enzo, until I settle on my father, praying he’ll take note of my panic-stricken expression and save one of the few things I have of my mother’s. The fire that burns through his eyes is strong and he reaches out to snatch the pearls back, but Costello’s hand reaches out, stopping him with a tight grip.
“Na uh, Salvatore, they’re on the table now. You’ll have to win these.”
“You seriously think I’m going to allow something so valuable as those to be bet away?” my father barks, ripping his hand away. He narrows a death glare upon Giovanni and shakes his head in dismay. “I thought we only played for money and material crap.”
“Sometimes I like seeing a little rebellion like that,” Costello comments and snaps his fingers at the dealer to be ready. “I guess I can add ten grand in and be done. They look like they wouldn’t be worth a thing.” He turns his nose up at the invaluable items of jewelry, only further angering the Abbiatis at the table.
“You’d be fucking surprised,” my father sneers, his aggression just waiting for the right trigger. “You’ll know exactly what they’re worth when I strangle the life out of my son with them.”
I realize my purse is about to become suddenly a hell of a lot lighter as my ten grand begins to disappear. As I count out the wads of cash, I send a silent prayer that my mother – hell, even Zane’s - will be looking over us. With the sickening idea that
I’ll lose something I hold so dearly to my heart, I just throw all my money down and try to cover how much panic I’m burning through with every single inhalation.
“Maverick?” Costello urges, waiting on him to join. “Do you not have enough?” he jokes, laughing, forcing his own minions to join.
Zane scratches his head and laughs himself before speaking. “It’s okay, I saw this coming, so I’d like to join Giovanni and add something a little better,” he announces. He leans over to bury his hand into his pants pocket and pulls out black beading. “I wasn’t given the memo on playing fair either, so I’m glad I went with my gut.”
He allows the string of beads to drop from his hand and I see it’s Giovanni’s rosary beads and cross. I know from the way the light bounces off the serendibite stones that this is the necklace our uncle gave Giovanni after his first vicious kill. Each stone is said to be worth almost 2 million dollars per carat. You plus onto that the red diamonds embellishing the metal cross and you’re looking at a pirate’s dream fucking swag. I, also, know Giovanni uses this to get a sniff of cocaine while on the go and I cannot help but see my lucky stars twinkle.
“Complete with a few grams of cocaine inside and this,” Zane comments, but as he does so, reaches into his other pocket and pulls out several dozen small bags of cocaine ready to fill the metal cross.
Apparently, Zane thought it was wise to steal the entire loot and not just a little.
Immediately, Giovanni’s face reddens and he looks ready to kill Zane.
“I wouldn’t get pissed off, Gio,” I comment after watching him toss a few daggers at Zane with just a few quick glares. “Zane is actually playing pretty fucking fair with what you’ve bought to the table.”
“What about your panties too, Amelia?” Andrew asks, his voice that normal drone. “I’m sure any of us would love to be in them.”
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