Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,3

The words ring in my ears like a siren.

He’s alive? How?

He’s been knee-deep in shit since we were kids. Always sticking his nose in his enemy’s business. Always bartering with things that don’t belong to him. Always poking a bear or tugging on a tiger’s tail until it was only a matter of time before he’d get eaten alive.

But apparently, his luck hasn’t run out quite yet.

Shocker.

Crossing my arms, I weigh my options before pulling on the proverbial mask I’ve grown accustomed to wearing. And even though I hate it, it’s the only card I know how to play. With a coy smile, I sashay toward him and drag my finger along the button of his slacks.

“Listen,” I purr, peeking up at him through my dark, lacquered lashes. “I don’t know what my brother has been up to, but I’d be more than happy to help him make amends.”

He shrugs away from me. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I know what you like, Stephan. I know how much you enjoy it when I––”

“I said that won’t be necessary.” His angled jaw is tight, but I don’t miss the outline of his dick in his pants. He’s hard. For me.

Just like the rest of them.

Flicking my hair behind my shoulder, I lick my lips and inch forward, but he mirrors my movements and keeps the distance between us.

“If you don’t want me to suck you off, then why exactly am I here?” I demand. “Are you going to kill me, Stephan?”

“Your brother wants to talk to you.”

“So you’ve let him keep his tongue?”

He smirks. “For now. Follow me.”

As I enter the house, my pulse quickens, but I keep my façade firmly in place and follow Stephan across the dark floors, through a hall, past the kitchen, and down a set of stairs to the basement.

Nothing good happens in basements. Not in this life.

He stops at a door that’s locked with a giant keypad, then faces me. “Do you have any weapons on you?”

“No.”

Head cocked, his gaze narrows before he decides, “Raise your hands up.”

I purse my lips but do as I’m told. He runs his hands along my sides, under my breasts, then down each leg to confirm I’m telling the truth. When he finds me very much without a weapon, he nods his approval.

“Leave your purse and your phone with me,” he orders. My grip tightens around my black bag that holds a small handgun and a knife sewn into the lining, but I force my fingers to loosen and hand it to him anyway.

“Fine,” I rasp.

“Turn around.”

I give him my back, staring at the wall opposite the keypad and wait a solid three seconds before a soft buzz confirms he’s finished pressing in the code to unlock the door.

“I’ll be right outside if you need anything,” he tells me.

“Like what? Maybe a glass of wine and some cheese?” I quip.

“You don’t drink wine, remember? Too many calories.”

“Funny you remember that tiny detail. Do you remember what I look like naked too? How the sacrifices I’ve made in regards to what I eat has turned me into your own personal wet dream? Because you sure as hell weren’t complaining the last time I sucked you off,” I return with a confident smirk.

The bastard doesn’t bother to answer and motions to the unlocked door. “Ladies first.”

With my chin held high, I push it open and saunter inside the small square room. The walls are painted white and match the sheets on the thin mattress, while a bucket is tucked into the corner. My nose wrinkles. I feel like I’ve been transported to a damn insane asylum. I guess it’s fitting since my brother is far from sane and has been for as long as I can remember.

Speaking of which….

“Hello, Dom,” I greet him coolly. His beard is scraggly, and his beady eyes are framed with deep purple bags. He looks like shit.

“No hug for your big brother?”

I smirk. “We’re not exactly a hugging family, are we?”

“I guess not.”

My heels click against the concrete floor as I step closer, and tsk, “What’d you get yourself into this time?”

“Who said I got myself into anything?” he counters.

Rolling my eyes, I cross my arms and spit, “Just get to the point, Dominic.”

“I found you a husband.”

My eyes widen before I cover it with indifference. “In a dank basement? How thoughtful.”

“I’m serious.”

“I’m sure you are. Who is it this time?” I scan the empty room as if my fiancé is hiding somewhere. “Hello? Future husband? Would you