Fifth Avenue Devil

Chapter 1

One

Nate

"F our hundred thousand," the large Iranian man next to me declares. He grunts as he pushes a towering stack of poker chips into the middle of the table.

I lift the cards in my hand just high enough so that I can see them. A pair of jacks. With the other two jacks already laid on the table, I'm fairly certain that I've got the winning hand.

The dealer turns his attention to a tall, reedy man with a thinning crown of washed-out blond hair. "Mr. Gellar? It's to you. Four hundred thousand is the ante."

"Yes, yes," Archer parries. He eyes me, screwing his mouth up like the rat-faced weasel he is.

Archer Gellar is the CEO of Gellar Industries and my biggest business rival. I’d once thought we could work together. I am the CEO of the commodities giant ViaLife, and Gellar’s dealings in oil and precious minerals meant we could have formed a partnership made in heaven.

But because Archer is such a repugnant piece of human waste, he fucked me over. On a deal that netted him a measly hundred thousand dollars, no less.

Here we are, several years later. And rivals isn’t a strong enough word for what we are.

No, we are enemies .

I loathe him with every fiber of my being. You do not trick Nate fucking Fordham and think you're actually going to get away with it.

"You seem awfully sure of yourself, Fordham," Archer says. He narrows his eyes at me. "I think you've got a shit hand and you're just praying that I don't call your bluff."

I remain carefully impassive. Putting my cards face down on the table, I loosen my tie. We abandoned suit jackets over an hour ago, but my tie is chafing my neck.

Instead of answering Archer's question, I turn to the waitress working the bar next to our private poker table.

"Another whiskey. Make it on the rocks this time. And for fuck's sake, turn up the air conditioning. It's hot in here."

Archer's entire face lights up with malevolent glee. "Too hot in here for you, eh?" He chuckles dryly, which turns into a wracking cough.

"Mr. Gellar, are you in or out?" The dealer's frustration is evident in his tone. "We need to move this game along, sir."

Archer grins. "I'm all in." He stands up to push all of his chips to the center of the table. "Wait." He takes off his gold wristwatch and tosses it on the pile. "That's five hundred and fifty thousand. And..." He purses his lips. "How about I throw in my daughter? Hm? She's gotta be worth, what, a hundred k?"

The dealer clears his throat. "Sir, you have been warned repeatedly about trying to wager with illegal goods. Humans are not traded over a poker game, no matter how good you feel about your chances of winning."

I shift in my seat. I don't like Gellar's casual attitude toward human trafficking any more than the next guy. But the idea of somehow owning Archer's daughter — pretty, blonde Annalise Gellar — makes a prickle of sensation gather at the nape of my neck.

Archer points at me, grinning. "Look at him. He's excited."

I frown at Archer, even though what he says is true. Owning and debasing Archer's little girl does have a certain appeal to me. But that's not what we are talking about right now.

"Gellar, get on with it," I growl.

Archer feigns a wounded look for a second. "I'm just trying to win back what you have taken from me, Nate. Have a heart."

I turn to the dealer. "Let's move this along. I don't know what funds Archer has left to play with at this point, as I’ve been picking his bones clean for the last three days of this poker tournament. But let's be done with it all. I haven't slept in a couple of days, and I have a date upstairs with my pillow."

Archer makes a disgusted sound. Before he can start whining again, the dealer turns to me. "Mr. Fordham? We have five hundred and fifty thousand on the table. Would you like--"

"Wait!" Archer grimaces. He wipes the flop sweat from his forehead onto his pants.

This is the expression of a hardened addict trying to get his fix. I've seen it many times before when I’ve attended these tournaments geared toward the ultra-rich. But none were so evident as Archer Gellar is now.

"Just wait," he says. He eyes me. "What if I put something you really wanted on the table?"

"Mr. Gellar-" The dealer does not sound amused.

I hold up a hand to stop his admonishment. "Let the man speak." I know that nothing I could lose here would touch my billionaire status. But I have a feeling that Archer is about to dangle something I want in front of my nose.

"What if I put a merger on the table?"

I sit up a little straighter. "A merger?"

"You've wanted Gellar Industries for a long time. You can have a merger with my company and get all our ground-penetrating radar technologies. How would that be?"

I tilt my head and fold my hands, considering the possibilities. "It depends. Would you still be involved? Because I will not work with you, Archer. You're a snake."

He glares at me. "You're trying to drive me out of business!"

I look to the dealer. "Can we move this along?"

"Wait!" Archer grits his teeth. "Okay. I am willing to wager the company. And it would be under new ownership. I'd step aside. If you win this bet. Which I'm confident you won't."

I look at my watch. It's almost six in the morning, and I'm getting tired. I shouldn't be gambling anything big right now. But I want to squash Archer Gellar so badly that I can almost taste his whimpers of pain.

"And what do you want if you win?" I ask, sounding almost bored.

"Fifteen million dollars." Archer is too quick to come up with the exact figure.

I give him a long look. "Four."

"Twelve!"

I consider him for several moments, then sigh. "Six. And that's my final offer. Take it or leave it, and let us all go home."

"Fine, fine." He waves his hand. "I'm going to win. It's my turn. The universe owes me."

I exchange solemn glances with the Iranian. He tosses his cards in wordlessly.

"All right," the dealer says, taking control of the moment. "That's it. All bets are placed. Let's see what the river has to show us."

He deals an ace.

Archer shoots up from the table with the biggest grin on his face. "Woohoo!" Without waiting for the dealer, he flips his cards over. He has a flush, not even a particularly good hand. But he is leaning over the table to offer a high-five to the Iraqi gentleman.

The Iraqi waves his hand. "Why don't we see?" he says in heavily accented English.

"Yeah, why don't we?" I lay my cards out on the table. "Four of a kind."

"What??" Archer gapes at me. "That's... that's... cheating! You're a fucking dirty cheater!"

I push back my chair as Archer rubs the back of his neck, looking distraught. I point at him. "You lost, asshole. Fair and square. I have no idea how you thought it was a good idea to bet your fucking daughter on such a nothing hand."

Archer winces. "Ouch."

"You think that hurts? Wait till you realize that you're fucking fired."

Archer leans forward, clutching the back of his head, and begins to moan. "It... doesn't... feel... right..."

He lists to the side, and the Iraqi businessman scoots his chair out of the way just in time. Archer falls to the ground, a moan winding its way out of his lungs. "Ohhhoooohhhoh," he says.

Then he goes still.

The dealer is already on his feet, calling to the waitress. He tries to rouse Archer to no avail. "Mr. Gellar?" He kneels down and checks for a pulse. "He's got a pulse but I don't think he's breathing..."

I watch the dealer try to attempt a clumsy version of CPR. But it doesn't matter.

Archer Gellar just died after losing to me. Someone will be sad about it, I suppose.

But not me. No, I just gained a whole company. Not to mention Archer’s lovely daughter Annalise. I don’t know her well, but from what I remember, she’s a little blonde vixen.

Gellar came into this room probably thinking that he would mop the floor with me. But I swept the decks clean of his rotten garbage.

And now all that’s left is to claim my richly deserved reward.