Unspoken Obsession (Casino King #4)

6. Dante

DANTE

I t's been a morning of chaos. Too many meetings, too many updates, too much going on and I need a break. But it's still early and I've got a lot to do.

Standing up from my desk in my office at the Russo River Casino - my original empire - I gather my things, knowing I need to do a check on what's happening at one of the new casinos.

La Muse Casino is doing well. Revenue is pouring in and the reviews in the media are stellar. However, it has only been open for two years, and as with all new business - you've got to keep a close eye on things.

I need to be sure my managers are doing what they are supposed to; I need to ensure the staff are trustworthy. I need to watch over everything and trust no one until they've proven their loyalty and trustworthiness.

Our security system is state-of-the art. My primary focus when opening a new casino is always security. There are more cameras in my casinos than in any other casino in Las Vegas. Like I said - I don't trust anyone.

So, while I can access any of the cameras from anywhere - I still prefer to visit in person and make my presence known and remind everyone who works for me I've got my eyes on everything - all the time.

La Muse was a shopping mall before it became my casino. I purchased it - tore apart the insides and rebuilt it in less than a year. The location is prime, and the launch was spectacular.

Since day one the casino has been packed and the hotel books out months in advance. I am impressed with its success.

I arrive at La Muse after the lunch rush, heading straight onto the casino floor to speak with the managers.

"Afternoon, sir." The executive floor manager, Andrew, greets me.

"Andrew, what news do you have for me today? Anything I need to be aware of?"

He knows me well and skips the bland conversation to dive straight into the updates as we walk through the casino floor.

"Last night's event was successful. And this morning we've got a lot of the guests from the event out on the casino floor, so we are busy. The hotel is full. There is a VIP high-roller arriving tomorrow evening so we will ensure he has everything he wants. There are some reports of a card counter who's been spending evenings at the Blackjack tables. There is no concrete evidence yet - but we are keeping a close eye."

I frown and stop walking. "A card counter?"

"Yes, sir. Goes by the name Frankie. New in town. Showed up a week and a half ago and comes in for an hour or two early in the evenings. Doesn't play large, and never two nights in a row."

"Frankie," I mutter his name. As a casino owner, I despise card counters. But they also pique my curiosity. The audacity - and that it is so hard to prove what they do. The problem with genius criminals is they are often too smart to catch.

"What makes you think they're counting?" I ask, wondering just how sure Andrew is.

"The skill is just - it's so good it's questionable. That's all."

I nod. That's how all card counters end up getting caught. They are too good at the game. And ego won't let them step back and lose.

They play with their egos instead of logic. If they just lost some money occasionally it'd be less conspicuous.

Well, now I want to meet Frankie myself. A face-to-face so he knows who is in charge, and then I'll add him to the blacklisted players at my casino.

And the best way to lure a card counter out of hiding is to host a high-stakes game. They can't resist.

He will learn that I am not a person to fuck with - and card counting in my casino will cost him more than he bargained for.

"Set up a high-stakes game. I want to meet this Frankie."

"Yes, sir. I'll set up for the end of the week?"

"Perfect. Send me the details. I want to be here in person. I might even chat with Frankie myself."

Andrew nods. He knows my reputation and his expression tells me he fears for this Frankie asshole. Well, Andrew - Frankie should've thought about the consequences of his actions before he fucked with my business.

After catching up on news with Andrew I go up to my office and complete some paperwork. Finding out about a new card counter has set my irritation levels high. I hate to be taken advantage of - and that is what card counters do. They work around the system.

You've got to be a genius to count cards - but it is still cheating, and I won't tolerate it. If I don't act against this guy, my reputation will be stained.

On Friday night I walked into La Muse Casino wearing a slick black suit, my eyes already dark and broody to match my mood just having to be here to meet this card counter. It's a waste of an evening - but I must do it in person.

The game has already started when I arrive. I make my way to where they're playing and stand on the platform overlooking the tables.

Andrew comes to stand by my side.

There are seven players at the table. Six men and one woman. Four of them I know well. They are regulars.

I stare at the other two me wondering which one of those assholes is Frankie.

"She's superb," Andrew says, his arms folded across his chest, watching the girl instead of paying attention to the entire reason I set this game up.

"I don't care about her - which one is Frankie?" I sigh, even though I am staring at the girl too. There is something about her that stirs my insides and sets my pulse racing. Do I know her? Maybe I've seen her around here or in one of the other casinos. She looks so familiar, but I can't place her.

"She is Frankie, sir." Andrew turns towards me in confusion - as though he thought I already knew that.

"The girl? The girl is the card counter?"

My heart rate goes up. It never even crossed my mind that Frankie might be a woman. I just assumed - I mean card counting is a man's game. Women tend to - I don't know - not be that smart. It's a woman. That woman. She's fucking gorgeous.

"Yes, sir. And she's damn good at it. She knows when to hold back on winning and it's bloody hard we can't prove what she's doing."

"The girl. Fuck me." I mutter again in disbelief.

"I'm going down. Call if you need anything. We've got the cameras on her." Andrew says, oblivious to my complete and utter shock.

"Yeah - sure." I stammer, not sure I like this.

I step close to the railing, looking down at the table, at her face, the way she moves and that slight smile on her lips as she pushes her chips towards the dealer. Her slender figure, tall and athletic, elegant. Her tight black dress dipped low in the front to reveal tanned olive skin.

Why does she seem so familiar to me?

Her body language, her mouth - something about her - where do I recognize her from?

She glances up, sensing the intensity of my stare.

For a moment she looks taken aback - a sly smile crosses her face, and her eyes shine for a moment. Then she looks away and realization slams into me.

She reminds me of the woman in the gold dress, the little fox from the gala.

Her hair is different. Dark and long, compared to the shoulder-length blonde. This woman seems more poised, perhaps more serious, but similar in so many ways. I've never met someone who reminded me of that fox - but this girl - she has the same energy, movements, and the same intensity in her eyes.

But it can't be her. Something is different.

All night I watch her play; I can't tear my eyes off her even though it is weird and awkward.

I move from the balcony onto the main gaming floor so that I can see her at eye level.

Fuck. She is gorgeous. And Andrew was right - she is damn good at her crafty cheating. She plays it safe but is still kicking ass amongst the men in the game who are very upset to be losing to a girl. Frankie is bruising their egos while stealing from me.

"Frankie," I mutter, watching as she folds her hand. There are only three players left. If she wins now, she walks away with a lot of money - but I get the sense that this isn't about money.

"Who are you, Frankie? Where are you from?" I mutter, sipping my neat whiskey.

Frankie knows I'm watching her.

Her flirtatious glances confirm it. She is toying with me.

My phone has been an annoyance all night and as much as I want to keep my full attention on this game it seems like all hell is breaking loose underground. I've got no choice but to step away and find out what the hell is going on.

Reluctantly, I leave the game, taking one last long look at her.

Maybe I can make it back before it's over.

I hurried down to the tunnels, agitated because I did not want to walk away from that girl. Something about her—I don't understand it—but she has my full attention.

"What the fuck is going on?" I demand, stepping out of the elevators into chaos.

The shift manager rushes over to me.

"Sir, we spotted some intruders on the cameras—the guards are after them and we've locked down all exits."

"And?"

"And that's it for now, sir. We will catch them." His voice was thin with stress.

"Well, don't fucking call me until you do. Handle this." I snarl, then turn back to the elevator, desperate to get back upstairs. It's not like I'm going to go running through the tunnels to catch these assholes in Gucci loafers and a suit. I pay other people to do that.

In the elevator, I do my best to regain my composure. Even with the shit going on in the tunnels, I am still obsessing over this Frankie girl. I want to find out more about her - but without giving away the fact that I own this casino. I don't want her to think I am onto her. I don't even give a shit that she is card counting at this point. The curiosity has overrun the irritation of her cheating in my casino.

I've got to find out who she is. I want to know why she reminds me so much of that woman. Could it be a sister? Could she lead me to find the other girl?

Frankie plays it safe and ducks out of the game in second place.

She could've won with no effort - but I guess she didn't want that attention. She's a clever thief, with no ego, unlike men.

Well, whether or not she wants it - she has my undivided attention.

My phone chimes with updates about what is happening down below. It's agitating me and making me tense. All I want to hear is when they catch the guys. Until then I do not care. For now—I want to focus on what is right in front of me.

I watch her as she saunters over to the bar. Her hips swaying. I am mesmerized by her beauty. Her long dark hair falls in thick waves down her back and when she moves it floats around her.

As she leans forward over the bar to order a drink, my eyes trace over the curve of her back, the silky black fabric of her dress looks like liquid against her skin.

Everything about her is understated. The way she presents herself - there is nothing flashy or over the top. She has subtle gold jewelry, complimenting her tanned skin. Elegant and simple. Her make up is natural and soft. Her dress is plain too. Thin straps and a long, flowing style.

It's as though she is doing her best to blend in and not draw attention - but with a body and face like hers, it is impossible.

A lot of men are watching her tonight, and one of them is busy making his move right now, offering to buy her a drink.

Frankie glances over her shoulder, towards me, half a smile curling the corner of her mouth. Then she turns back to the man, declining his drink with polite elegance. He looks disappointed, trying to push his luck by asking again - but she declines again - and then glances at me, her thick dark lashes framing that piercing gaze of hers.

Was that an invitation to me?

Either way - I've got every intention of going to talk to her.

Pushing away from the table I was leaning on I walk towards the bar.

I don't stand too close to her, and I don't turn my body towards her. I nod towards the bartender and order a whiskey.

Once he has placed the drink in front of me I turn towards her, lifting my drink up to hers. "Congratulations, you played a good game this evening."

"Thank you." She says, cool and polite. She touches the lip of her glass against mine.

Her eyes trace over me. My heart is racing even faster being this close to her. She has my skin tingling like it's on fire and my mind running wild with possibilities.