Page 74 of Love Me (Touch of Death 3)
“Sasha.”
“Una.”
The man standing before me now is not the one I’ve come to know. It’s as though in her presence, he must remain everything he once was. There are two versions of him.
The room is full of people. Gio, Jackson, Tommy, Nero, Dante, Una, and a man and woman I don’t recognize.
Nero pours a glass of liquor and hands it to me, but I pass it to Sasha before going back for another. “You have him drinking?” Nero asks with a grin.
I shrug. “I’m a bad influence.”
“Oh no,” Jackson joins in, clapping his hands together on a laugh. “You’re a great influence.”
Tommy stands up from his place on the sofa and pulls me into a hug. “I missed you,” he says.
He then sits on the arm, giving me his seat. On the sofa to my left is a huge man, tattooed from head to foot. At first glance, he looks terrifying. He’s practically bursting out of his shirt, the buttons straining against enormous muscles. And cradled in his huge arms, is a child, a baby. He looks so at odds and yet fiercely protective. Next to him is a blond woman, so beautiful, she looks like a doll. Golden hair spills around her face in waves. Cornflower-blue eyes meet mine, and a small smile touches her lips. There’s a kindness to her, a softness, and yet her features are familiar.
Nero places a new glass in my hand. “This is Rafael and Anna D’Cruze.” He points at the woman. “Una’s sister.” Now that he’s said it, I can see the similarities: the hard, perfect cut of her cheekbones, and though their eyes aren’t the same color, they’re both unusual. My mind catches on the name, D’Cruze. Rafael. “And their daughter Violet. This is Adelina Ricci.”
The huge man smiles. “Ah, so this is the little girl causing all the trouble.” His accent is noticeable, though not thick. Spanish.
“No more than you do,” Sasha grumbles from his position next to the fireplace. His back is to the wall where he can see the door, windows, and everyone in the room. Old habits die hard.
“And you can endure him?” Rafael points at Sasha, a mocking smirk on his lips. “That is a feat.”
“Rafael D’Cruze. The man who has stolen one of my customers,” I say with a smile.
His eyes narrow on a smirk. “Fighting talk, pequeno. Though, as I recall, I was asked to take said customer as a favor.” He shrugs. “Favors demand payment.”
His wife places a hand on his arm before taking the baby from him. “No business. We came here to spend Christmas with family.” She offers me an apologetic smile.
“Speaking of business, who wants to play poker?” Nero’s gaze lands on Rafael, then Jackson, Gio, Tommy, and finally, Sasha.
I place my drink down. “I’ll play.”
Several sets of eyes land on me. “You sure about that?” Jackson asks, and I know he’s trying to bait me.
I smile as I stand. “Afraid I’ll clean you out? You better have deep pockets.”
He necks his drink. “Oh, you’re on.”
We leave the room, and Nero, Gio, Jackson, Rafael, and I end up sitting at the dining room table. Sasha lingers to the side, and Tommy has wandered off. Anna and Una are somewhere, Una having voiced her distaste for “irrational gambling.”
Stacks of chips sit in front of me, and Nero starts. We play a few hands, and I observe, just like I was taught. Allow them to think you’re weak. On the ninth game, I get a good hand. Jackson and Gio fold quickly, leaving just Nero and Rafael in the game. All three of us sit, determined, unwilling to fold.
“How about a little wager,” I say casually, my eyes on my cards.
“I’m listening,” Nero says.
I lift my gaze, zeroing in on Rafael, then flicking to Nero. I have to involve him, given it’s the three of us left. “Whoever wins gets to keep Rosco Awega as a customer.” The customer Rafael stole from me because we stole him from Enrique. I am now the Bianchi mafia.
Nero smiles, Rafael laughs. “I like her,” he says.
“Business over poker, what could go wrong?” Sasha mumbles from his place in the corner. This isn’t just business, though. In this underground world we all find ourselves in, strength is respected. And respect is even harder to earn as a woman.
One by one, we drop our cards. Nero drops a flush, and it figures, he won’t be overly concerned about winning a customer he doesn’t have and never did. Rafael puts four of a kind on the table, a smug smile on his face. I place my cards face up.
“Straight flush. Pleasure doing business with you, Rafael.”
The huge man sits back in his chair, eyes narrowing as he looks me up and down. “Please, my friends call me Rafe.”
Nero claps him on the shoulder. “Don’t take it too hard, my friend. I once played with her father. The old man could hustle the best.”
