Corey

Nico flew us all to Chicago in a private plane, but we’re on our own heading back because he and Sondra are taking the private plane to Fiji for their honeymoon.

Stefano and I head to the lobby at 7:00 a.m. the next morning to get a taxi to the airport. After the incident with my dad last night, I’d gone to my hotel room to pull myself together, and made it through the rest of the night.

Stefano dragged me back from the shitstorm of thoughts in my head at the end of the night by pinning me down—literally with my wrists clamped in his big paws—and forcing me to hold eye contact the entire time he fucked me raw.

It was brutal. And beautiful. By the time we both came—perfectly synchronized together, of course—I was fully present. In my body. With him.

We get to the airport, and Stefano hands the tickets over to the United agent. “Two to Memphis,” she confirms.

My head jerks up. “No—”

“That’s right,” Stefano says.

I hide my confusion because I don’t want to get punked in front of the ticket agent, but the minute we head for security, I grab his arm and pull him to a stop. “What in the hell is going on?”

He hides a smile. “The world poker tournament starts tonight. I entered you.”

My eyes must fill my whole face. “What?”

“You heard me, bella, you’re going to be on TV. An international poker star.”

My knees nearly buckle. “Stefano, are you nuts? It costs ten grand just to get in. I’m nowhere near ready for games like those.”

Stefano’s expression turns serious. “Bullshit.” He has a way of saying bullshit that is all street. All scary, in your face, I-dare-you-to-lie-again attitude.

I draw back, flushing.

“When are you going to let yourself out of the box?” he demands.

I’m trembling now, whether it’s from anger or fear, I’m not sure. “What box?” I raise my voice, because getting right back in his face is my defense mechanism.

“The box you put yourself in to keep you small. To keep you from shining. Who are you hiding your brilliance from? Your dad? Yourself?”

I slap his chest, because tears are shoving up in my throat and I’m pissed that he’s stripping me bare right here in the airport.

He catches my hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it with tenderness. “Because I see it in you every time I look, bella,” he murmurs. “Every goddamn time. And I want you to know what I know.”

Tears well up. “What’s that?” I mutter.

“There’s nothing you can’t do.”

“Damn you, Stefano.” I blink back the water in my eyes.

“Listen, amore. We’re going to Memphis. If you decide you don’t want to play, then we’ll go to Graceland and see the King. Or we’ll stay in the hotel room and you can punish me for springing this on you. ‘Kay?”

A few tears spill and I let out a watery laugh. “Yeah. Okay. Asshole.”

“Still your boss, baby.” He gives me a mock-stern look that makes my toes curl.

I let him lead me through the security line and into our first-class seats on the airplane where my eyes start to water again.

My boyfriend.

Sheesh.

No one has ever been this sweet to me in my whole life.

And knowing that makes me even sicker thinking about my dad and his goddamn investigation.

I need to stop him.

And actually, this poker championship may give me the way.

Stefano

Twenty bucks will get you a long way with most any stranger. I have a clutch of them in my hand and I’m offering them up in what may be the craziest thing I’ve ever attempted.

I must be in love.

That’s the only explanation for this scene I’ve facilitated outside the room of Corey’s first poker match. I told her I needed to make a few phone calls and that I’d pick us up some coffee and meet her here.

She wasn’t thrilled about being left alone. I think her nerves were getting to her, but she didn’t seem suspicious.

Now, though, I’m starting to worry that she won’t show. I did tell her she didn’t have to if she didn’t want.

What if she never comes down?

“How’s this look?” A pretty millennial with a makeup pencil in her hand asks. She’s written C-O-R-E-Y across her face. A group of her friends are working on the TEAM COREY banner. They’re all wearing the Corey sashes I had pre-printed for the event. I recruited nineteen random strangers in all who are committed to being here to cheer Corey on when she comes. It doesn’t hurt that most of them have been drinking and would be up for doing almost anything for twenty bucks apiece.

If she comes.

Merda.

I check my watch. She was supposed to meet me here five minutes ago. Come on, baby. Just then, a long pair of legs below a red skirt appears on the escalator coming down.

“Here she comes.” I clap my hands and the rowdy crew snaps together in a cluster, holding up the sign and waving their flags as the rest of Corey’s body comes into view. She’s wearing one of the red dresses I bought her and looks like a million bucks. No, a billion. She looks like a winner. Definitely a champion.

“COR-ey, COR-ey, COR-ey,” one of the crew starts chanting and the rest join in.

Corey’s face comes into view, her hand across her mouth, eyebrows to her hairline. “Oh my god,” she mutters as she stumbles off the escalator. I catch her in my arms. “What have you done?”

“I assembled a cheering squad.”

Tears swim in her eyes. “Jesus, Stefano,” she chokes. “You did this for me? Now you’re making me cry.” She waves her hands in front of her face, blinking rapidly as she laughs. “I never cry. Only you do this to me.”

I slide my hands around her waist and nuzzle her neck. “You’re safe with me,” I murmur. I’ll take her tears. Guard her emotions with my life.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “You’re amazing.” Then she pushes me back and stares at her champions again. “Who are these people?” she demands.

I laugh. “Turns out, cheering squads can be hired, which doesn’t mean you don’t already have raving fans. They just don’t know you yet.” I wink and steer her toward the door for the competition. “You’d better get in there, it’s going to start in ten minutes.

She blows out a quick breath. “Stefano, you’re insane.”

No, just in love. I don’t say it, though. She’s too easily scared off and I’m still not certain she feels the same.

“Go in there and kick some ass.” I tap her hip because I don’t think she’d appreciate having her ass slapped in public.

She squares her shoulders and tosses her gorgeous hair as she marches in to take her seat at the table.

I find a seat in the audience. I only have a view of Corey’s back, but the giant screens all around the room televise the event, and the cameras are loving on Corey. Who could blame them? She’s about one thousand times easier on the eyes than the grizzled men she’s playing against. I’d be surprised if the cameras ever move from her face this entire tournament.

If only she knew how much everyone watching would love to root her on.

Corey

I get dealt the shittiest cards in the history of poker. I fold three hands in a row. Part of me is ready to just stand up and walk out of here. I’ve seen enough of gambling to know that when luck isn’t with you, you have to walk away.

But Stefano did so much to get me here. Surprised me with this trip, set up the cheering squad. How fucking sweet was that? He actually listened to the story I told him about playing soccer as a kid and tried to remedy it.

He’s one in a million, this guy.

And that’s why I have to keep playing. Not because he cares whether I win or lose. I believe him when he say he doesn’t.

No, I need to win big, because I have a purpose for this money. And it could be a matter of life or death.

I’m not the praying sort, but I start asking Lady Luck, the angels, God, fairies, leprechauns and whatever the hell else might be out there to show up and help me out. And then I remember that desperation never wins. Control wins but not as big or with ease. No, the gut gamblers, they surrender.

So I sit back and imagine I’m tied to Stefano’s bed. Imagine I’m surrendering to him. To pleasure. I have no choice but to receive.

A tingling starts between my legs and I have to press my inner thighs together to alleviate the slow throb of my clit. My nipples harden and I start to sweat. All the guys at the table start glancing over at me, like they sense the change.

And I get dealt four aces. Four freaking aces!

And that’s when I start to feel the energy pulsing around me. With each hand I win, I get hornier and hornier, as if every win is a sexual gift, every dollar the stimulation I need to get off.

Five hours later, I’m nearly delirious with need and I’m up one hundred thousand dollars.

I play it safe until the end of the tournament. When it’s finally over, the announcer gives my total winnings and I hear cheers behind me. I spin around and take in the audience. They are whistling and cheering for me. The sound catches on and pretty soon, the entire place is clapping, including the men I was playing with.

Giddiness kicks in and I laugh, disarmed by the unexpected affection of strangers. Fortunately, Stefano appears at my side, because I’m not sure I remember how to walk, and then we’re out of there, up to our hotel suite, where he takes me in every position imaginable until I pass out from utter delirium.