I still feel as warm and relaxed when I wake up the next morning, every muscle in my body thanking me for what we did last night. I move my legs in my sheets until I felt her warm skin still in bed, and I have to say, I’m surprised. I would have bet anything that she’d be gone this morning, possibly with as much personal information of mine she could get her hands on. I’m a heavy sleeper, it wouldn’t have been very hard.

But she’s still sleeping quietly next to me, red hair strewn over her face in the darkness of the room. I can just barely make out her features, half-buried in sheets. Her eyes haven’t opened yet, and I don’t get the impression she’s faking being asleep... but I wouldn’t put it past her, either.

Slowly, I slide out of the sheets and stand up, stretch, and head over to the bathroom after grabbing my phone. The bathroom doors are pretty solid, so with the white noise of the shower water running and the fan going, it’s easy to do something without being overheard.

Naturally, I call for room service and order us a lavish breakfast before jumping in the shower.

Steaming hot water washes over my naked body, relaxing every muscle even further, so much so that I feel like I could lie down and go to sleep again. I run my hands through my short, dark hair and wash out the smell of cigarette smoke and the stale air of the casino off me.

Every time the thought of that stunning redhead in bed crosses my mind, I feel my shaft start to wake up and swell, eager for another round with her. I give my cock a few strokes, letting out a soft groan as it sends ripples of warmth through my body. But with room service on the way, I don’t want to spend too much time enjoying myself in the shower.

Ten minutes later, I come out feeling fresh and towel myself off before stepping outside.

As soon as the bathroom light streams out into the main room, Hadley sits bolt upright, suddenly on high alert with wide eyes and a frightened face. I freeze in place, putting a hand up and smiling warmly.

“Morning, sunshine,” I say, realizing my voice is still thick with sleep. “Don’t tell me I’m that forgettable.”

She smirks, and her shoulders relax.

“Surprised to see you still here,” she says smugly.

“I was thinking the same about you,” I say as I stride naked into the room, watching her eyes drink in my body as she slowly pushes the sheets off herself and stretches up into the air.

Before she can reply, a knock comes at the door, and she gasps, guard going up again immediately. I wonder how used she is to this kind of lifestyle. She jumps into action-mode too quickly to be anything but experienced.

“Don’t worry, that should be the room service I ordered,” I say as I lazily grab my pants and pull them over my legs. As I do, she quickly grabs the nearest piece of clothing she can find, which happens to be the shirt of my suit. She slips it over her shoulders and buttons it up quickly, giving me a playful smirk as she does.

I raise an eyebrow at her, chuckling as I head to the door and pull it open. A server I recognize is standing there with the tray of breakfast foods that smell heavenly. I give him a nod, pull out a $100 bill from my back pocket to hand him, then snatch the cart inside and shut the door before he can so much as say anything.

“You work fast around here,” She points out as she slides her legs out from under the sheets and props up the pillows to let her lean against the headboard while she watches me. I bring the cart over, and I start fixing a large plate for her.

The breakfast spread includes rich, applewood-smoked bacon, thick sausage patties on open-faced flaky, buttery biscuits, poached eggs seasoned with smoked paprika, and in case she was feeling like it was going to be the kind of day that called for a lot of carbs, a side of patatas bravas. To drink, I had ordered a French press full of the best coffee the house had to offer, but I also had a bottle of champagne and carafe of orange juice on the side.

“Do you like mimosas?” I ask as I hand her a heavy plate of food that makes her eyes go wide. “I’m making one for me, anyway, so…”

“Um, yeah,” she says, smiling brightly. I serve us up a couple of drinks, then get onto the bed, lying opposite her with my elbow propping me up at the foot of the bed, giving us a good look at each other while we eat.

“So,” I start, “you’re still here, and that incident with your friend didn’t scare you off—in fact, you’re still raking in winnings.” She watches me carefully as I speak, trying to read my face for signs of... anything. But all I wear is a curious smile, and that’s all I plan on showing. “You’re an intriguing woman, Hadley. Or was it Naomi?”

I have even more reason to be interested in Hadley now.

I spent all of last night wrangling with my boss over a new problem the casino has. According to Jerry, someone cleaned us out for a few million over the past couple night. He’s convinced that whoever it is is a team of professionals who must be cheating, because the odds are usually skewed to heavily in favor of the house here to let anyone get away with too much money.

But the thing is, nobody else seems to have caught onto Hadley’s presence like I have. And if I were a gambling man, I’d bet that her friend Vanessa is in on the same scheme as Hadley, part of the same team. But nobody pays attention to the women. Everyone, especially the men, just assume they’re wall flowers there to look pretty and go home with some rich gambler who hits a lucky break.

So, that means that by lying here, looking at nearly six feet of a gorgeous and cunning woman who’s at least pretending to be this into me and doesn’t seem to know who I am or who I work for... I find myself in a very interesting position.

I know Hadley is up to something, and nobody else does, not even my boss.

“I’m not apologizing for giving a fake name, if that’s what you’re fishing for,” she says, smirking at me while sipping a mimosa. “I didn’t have any idea who you were. And I still don’t, to be honest, but you’ve exposed more of me than anyone else at this casino.”

“I don’t blame you,” I say, picking around my biscuit. “Cleaning out a bunch of rich fucks like them? It’s a dangerous game, but you look like you know how to handle yourself. I’d be more surprised if you didn’t give a fake name.”

“Well, this one’s real,” she says. “Vanessa was... not in a great place. She’s alright now, though, if you were curious.”

“I’m more curious about you,” I say with a wink.

“Yes, you are,” she muses, narrowing her eyes at me. “That’s worrisome, you know.”

“What can I say? It’s not every day you see someone like you walk through the doors of this place and clean house that well without cheating.”

She arches a perfectly manicured eyebrow at me.

“And how do you know I’m playing fair?” she challenges me, tilting her head to the side.

“I think you don’t need to cheat,” I say simply. “You’ve got skill, and a lot of it, and the kinds of guys you play with don’t recognize that. I bet it makes it easy to take them for a ride. I can only imagine what kind of a rush that is.”

A smile curls her lips up, and I can tell I’ve hit on something interesting.

“You don’t know the half of it,” she purrs.

I was almost afraid she’d say that.

Jerry Laskin isn’t the kind of guy you fuck around with. If you can’t play at the big boy table, get the fuck out. So when he told me last night that I needed to find out whoever was cheating him out of that much money and put a bullet in their brain, I know he doesn’t really care if the guest is actually cheating. It could be a perfectly legitimate professional gambler.

Point is, nobody beats the mafia.

Losing this much money is a big slap to the face. And he wasn’t exaggerating—we lost tens of millions last night. It’s definitely a team of people, and I’d be willing to bet my career that Hadley is part of that team. I just need to find out how it works…

...and then decide what to do with that valuable information.

“So, are you planning on being a tease all morning, or are you going to tell me the half of it?” I ask.

“You know what?” she says after a thoughtful sip of mimosa. “I think I will. And you know why?”

“Can’t imagine,” I say with a mild smile.

“Because you’re the only guy I’ve run into in this game who isn’t a complete dipshit, and I’m playing a big game,” she says, crossing her legs under her and smiling deviously. She’s excited, and it occurs to me that I might be the first person she’s letting in on this.

Is she desperate to tell someone? Secrets can be hard to keep, surprisingly so, and especially when there’s this much money involved. There’s a look in her eyes I recognize. It’s loneliness, but it’s sparked by that wild streak she has, that thirst for adrenaline I saw so clearly out on the balcony last night.

Yeah, she’s eager for someone she sees as being on her level.

“I’ve seen some pretty big games in my day, so you’ve got my attention,” I say.

She gives one more moment’s hesitant thought before she smiles and starts talking.

“You probably figured out Vanessa and I aren’t just friends, exactly,” she says. “We’re sort of like coworkers. Teammates. That doe-eyed wilting flower routine didn’t fool you the other night, did it? She works the tables every bit as well as I do.”

I raise my eyebrows, feeling a sinking sensation in my gut. If Hadley is the one at the center of this web, I’m going to have a major problem. I show none of that emotion, though.

“You’re right, we don’t cheat, and you’re right, it’s because we don’t need to,” she goes on, looking smugger and prouder of herself by the moment. I can tell she has really been waiting a long time to be able to talk about this. I feel privileged to be the one to hear it. “The guys out there, they take one look at us and write us off. Yeah, I play up the ‘dumb debutante’ routine, but I barely need to. Some of the girls don’t even bother with that.”

“Wow, how many of you are there?” I ask.

“More than two,” she says tantalizingly. “And we’ve been all over the world doing this. Vegas is one thing, but I’ve seen so much more. Montenegro, Nepal, Monaco, Tokyo, you name it. We don’t hit those exclusive lakeside retreats where drug lords and arms dealers gamble with billions, though. We need places where we can blend in and draw attention all at the same time. I can barely believe this is real, sometimes. But we always clean house and are on a jet to the next place before anyone has time to do anything about it.”

And that’s exactly what you’re about to do here.

“So, why tell me all this?” I ask, making myself vulnerable by giving her an out, but I’m liking what I’m hearing more by the minute. “I could ruin everything for you, couldn’t I?”

“Who’d believe you?” she replies, and I see the flare of excitement in her eyes. “That’s the best and worst part—you’re not the first guy I’ve told about this.” I stare, surprised, but her face is grinning. “You’re the first to actually listen, but I’ve flirted with guys before. How could I not? You’d do the same if you were in my shoes.”

I have to admit, she’s right, and I nod.

“But your next question is, why put the whole thing at risk for that?” She sets her now-empty plate aside and lays on her stomach, crossing her legs at the ankles behind her and perching her chin on her folded hands and smiling at me. “It’s because of our boss.”

Alarm bells go off in my head, and I tilt my head to the side. Now I’m getting somewhere.

“So, this isn’t an independent thing?” I ask.

“I wish,” she says, shaking her head. “No, Carl—oh, excuse me, Mr. Owens as he insists on being called—takes most of the cut. By a big margin. Basically, he’s our overhead. He’s some pervy old rich heir who has nothing better to do with his life than organize a team of young and lovely gamblers, like moi,” she says with a flutter of her eyelashes, “and he flies us around the world to clean house with him.”

I raise my eyebrows as everything clicks in my head.

So, Carl Owens is the man responsible for cleaning out a mafia casino for millions of dollars in winnings, all by pulling the strings with a team of beautiful women who don’t even have to cheat to get what they want. Astounding.

“That’s a hell of a plan,” I admit, looking appropriately stunned in such a way that she seems satisfied with my reaction.

“Right? It would be perfect, if only he was thoughtful enough to pay us enough.”

“What’s your cut?”

“Fucking 10%,” she says, frowning ruefully. “Sure, that’s a lot of money, but compared to what he’s raking in for doing nothing but getting handsy with us and coaching us on things we already know? It’s an insult.”

“It really is,” I say, furrowing my eyebrows. That cut would be outrageous even by mafia standards, especially considering the risk involved.

The smile has faded from my face by a bit, because now, I have a lot to think about and not much time to figure out how to handle it.

It should be simple. I now have the name of the man who’s ripping the mob off, and I have Hadley. If Hadley had any idea how deep in the mafia I am, she wouldn’t be singing like a canary for me right now. If she knew I’m one job away from becoming a made man, she’d be a little more protective of her boss. But then again, she doesn’t seem to have any love for Carl, and he sounds like a piece of shit. She, on the other hand, is not a piece of shit. Hell, right now, she’s the most interesting woman I’ve met in my life, and I want to know more.

But if I did my job right, she’d be on the chopping block right along with Vanessa and Carl Owens. And that’s the big question I’m faced with: do I want to be a good mobster and do the job that’s expected of me?

Or do I let them get away with it and pretend I didn’t see anything?

Hadley deserves something good, better than what she’s getting now. Vanessa and the other girls probably deserve the same, if Hadley is telling the truth.

I’m holding the cards now, and I get to decide who wins.

But I’m sensing a third option, and it’s increasingly interesting.

“So, why don’t the lot of you just ditch Carl and go on your own?” I ask, smiling, and the question seems to delight her.

“I like how you think, but Carl is the glue keeping the operation together right now,” she admits. “Plenty of the girls are at least content with what we’re doing, not enough to rebel against him. He’s got a kind of... intimidating force of personality.” I hate him already. “And besides, he has the jet, he has the professionals who make all this happen,” she says, gesturing to her face. She’s still got most of her makeup on from last night.

I nod, but now I’m thinking. The amount of money they made last night would be more than enough to get things started off on their own. I wonder if they’ve made the handoff to Carl yet…

But just as that thought crosses my mind, I get a text. I check it, and see it’s from Jerry, telling me to call him immediately. I have to get back to my regular duties, or I’ll look suspicious. In a hurry, I stand up and buckle my belt.

“Where are you going?” she asks, crestfallen.

“Got to go,” I say brusquely, reaching my hand out. “And I’ll need that shirt back.”

I can see the disappointment and frustration melting over her face, and it’s heartbreaking, but I can’t linger any longer than this. She tears the shirt off her shoulders and thrusts it at me with a scowl.

“Fine, whatever,” she scoffs, standing up and heading to the bathroom. “Figures.”

I watch her go as I button my shirt back on. I’ll have to make it up to her somehow, but for now, I need to collect my thoughts. I head out the room once I’m dressed, and as I go, I already have a plan hatching in my head.

It’s simple and brutal, two things that go a long way in the mafia.

If I kill Hadley’s boss, then she gets to keep the money she earned, and I get to advance in the mafia. Nobody knows the girls are involved, and they disappear without a trace.

It’s perfect.