Ashes (Web of Desire #3) - Aleatha Romig Page 0,117
at me.
Julius folded as did the man to his right.
The remaining gentleman narrowed his gaze.
I’d been watching. That was what he did before folding.
The pot would be mine.
My intuition was incorrect. The gentleman called the $25,000.
Hmm.
Was he considering a fold?
“Ms. Miller, you have been called.”
I’d been the one to make the initial bid. That meant I had to show my cards. If there’d been a raise, I planned on folding. I flipped my hand. A, K, J, 10 and 5. Basically, I had nothing.
The man flipped his hand with a grin. “The rumors about you, Ms. Miller, are correct.”
He also had an ace high. His second highest was a 10.
“Ms. Miller, the pot goes to you,” our dealer said.
“Rumors?” I asked as I collected the chips from the center of the table.
“Beautiful, mysterious, and lethal,” he said, raising his glass.
The small hairs on my neck and arms rose like lightning rods. That was the exact wording Marion had used in Chicago.
The play concluded and we all waited as our chips were counted. Next was the declaration of the ten advancing contestants.
Patrick came up behind me as soon as the announcements were complete. “Good job, Mrs. Kelly, you advanced.”
My gaze met his as Marion approached. “Let’s get out of here,” I said, standing.
“Mr. Elliott,” Sterling said, stepping in Marion’s path.
“Mr. Sparrow?”
“We have business to discuss if you have any hope of anything other than an empty facility in McKinley Park.”
Patrick escorted me from the room as Mason stood guard beside Sterling.
“Are they really talking business?” I asked as we made our way down the stairs.
“Talking about business, yes, but it was a diversion. Sparrow has already sabotaged Elliott’s chances.” He shrugged. “But there is some satisfaction in hearing men like Elliott beg.”
The second night progressed much the same.
The third night wouldn’t.
I would have no choice but to face Marion to win.
Patrick
It was midmorning on Saturday when Reid called. His voice and image came from the computer upon the table in the center area of the hotel suite.
“Bykov finally reached out.”
“Where the fuck is Ivanov?” Sparrow said. “Two days of tournament play and he hasn’t shown.”
“He’s showing tonight. There have been more problems in Detroit. Bykov agreed they need help. He said Ivanov is leery since Hillman. Ivanov is losing control and needs help but doesn’t want to ask.”
“What kind of problems?” I asked.
“Fighting in the ranks. He lost four men last night to a second-rate gang. The rats are fighting amongst themselves, and it’s chipping away at the bratva’s base. The fucking city will implode if we don’t step in.”
Sparrow shook his head. “I’m not losing my men because Ivanov fucked up. We’ll offer limited resources for a finite period of time. Do you think this Bykov is capable of steering the ship?”
Madeline stepped from our bedroom, standing in the doorway. She had one arm across her body holding her opposite elbow. Her other hand was near her soft pink lips. The fancy dresses she wore both nights of the tournament were in the closet. Now, she wore soft black pants with a wide-neck light-gray t-shirt, exposing one shoulder. Soft socks encased her feet, and her hair was braided to one side, similar to how Ruby wore hers. With very little makeup on, my wife was the personification of the girl I’d married, complete with the curves that came with maturity.
In other words, my Maddie girl was spectacular, just like her recent play in the tournament.
Madeline ended play Friday night ranked third behind Edward Bellows, a local businessman, and Elliott, who too was ranked behind Bellows. Tonight with two other players, the winner would be determined.
Near Madeline’s green eyes were lines of concern.
The others turned her way.
“I’m sorry if I’m eavesdropping,” Madeline said. “Why would Sasha need to steer the ship? What’s happening to Andros?”
Sparrow and Mason turned to me.
With a deep breath, I stood. “In a nutshell, Hillman was planning a coup.”
“Of you?” she asked.
“Maybe in the future, but no,” I replied. “His first goal was Detroit. He had it all in the works. He played Ivanov.”
Madeline’s head shook. “No, Andros doesn’t trust many people.”
“He trusted the wrong one,” Sparrow said. “Now the city is faltering. Ivanov declared war on Chicago when he thought he had Hillman’s recruits. Now he’s trying to keep what was his.”
Her lower lip disappeared. “He had gained control before I went to…before he bought me. I’ve never known him to not have supreme control. He must be furious. I can’t imagine.”