Page 22 of When He Plays

“He’s done, boss,” Jesse told him. “Done.”

His attention shifted back to Ares.

The jerk was spitting up blood. Curled in a semi-fetal position against the wall. Blinking blearily.

“He’s not done.” Logan flexed his fingers. Rolled back his shoulders. “He’ll be done when he signs over his property. Because no one goes back on a bet in my house. Take him.” He stepped back.

Charlotte stood close to Logan. Which meant she was close to Ares, too.

If she was stunned by the violence that had erupted so quickly, she showed no signs of it and⁠—

Ares yelled. He yanked a knife out of his boot and lunged upright.

He should have been searched. Jesse and Terrance always search anyone who enters a private game. He should have been thoroughly searched.

Logan reached for Charlotte.

She…

Kicked the knife out of Ares’s hand. Then she brought up her own knife. And put it right against the Greek’s throat.

What the fuck? Is no one being properly searched any longer? Do my guards completely suck?

“It’s my second favorite knife,” Charlotte snapped. “I had to leave my very favorite knife in my room because it was too big, but my second favorite? Oh, it was just the right size. Perfectly easy to conceal.” She pressed the blade harder against his throat. “You do not try to attack my boss, is that clear?”

Oh, it seemed pretty clear to everyone. All eyes were on her.

Carmichael slapped a hand over his heart. “I may be in love.”

Get over that shit. “She’s a phenomenal assistant,” Logan announced to no one in particular. “Totally worth her weight in gold. Or, you know, definitely equal to a villa in France and a new casino in Greece.” He clapped his hands together. “Gentleman…those transfer papers won’t just sign themselves. Let’s get going. Game. Over.”

More of his guards rushed inside.

Good. He would have been annoyed if they hadn’t appeared. He had standing orders that whenever Terrance and Jesse entered, immediate backup was to follow.

Terrance and Jesse took control of Ares.

Charlotte slowly lowered her knife. Her breathing still came a bit too fast.

“Fabulous time,” Freya cooed as she waved in Logan’s direction. “As I said, you always do provide me with the best entertainment.” She air-kissed in his direction. “Do tell your grandmother that I send my love. It’s been ages since we’ve seen one another.” Then she whirled and headed for the exit.

Logan surveyed the other players. Harper looked a bit shell-shocked. Understandable. This had definitely not been her scene. She was the pampered princess. Not the psychotic playboy—her brother should have been at that game.

Logan would face off with him, later. He fully intended to win a few hotels off that man.

For now, he waved toward Sebastian. “Get her back to her hotel room, would you?” He’d noted the careful way Sebastian watched Harper and caught the covert way she stared back at him. There was something going on between those two.

“Oh, I would be delighted.” Sebastian gallantly offered Harper his arm.

After a brief hesitation, and a very heavy swallow, she took it.

They left.

Carmichael saluted him. “Until next time.”

Yeah. Next time. Carmichael Lennon might seem friendly and charming, but the man was far too good at dealing death. Carmichael had been an enforcer for the mob once upon a time. Rumor said that he’d left the biz because he’d gotten tired of taking orders from other people. Not gotten tired of the bloody work. Nope, not that. Just tired of following orders. He’d left to be his own boss. From all appearances, the career changed had brought him plenty of cash.

Carmichael exited without a backwards glance.