Black Jack (Advantage Play #5) - Kelsie Rae Page 0,4
like me to suck you off here or––”
“Stop being a bitch, Bianca.”
“Then stop wasting my time,” I return. “You’ve been dangling marriage over my head for so long that I realized I don’t need a man. In fact, I’m not sure if you’ve noticed or not, but all men are assholes.”
“You should be happy I finally found someone to marry your sorry ass.”
“And I’m sure I would be, if it weren’t a lie.”
“It isn’t a lie.”
“Then who?” I challenge with my hip popped on one side. “Who’s the lucky guy? And why now?”
“You said you were done with the business.”
“You mean whoring myself out?” I laugh, dryly. “Ya know, since my pimp died, I guess things have been a little slow.”
“I told you that Burlone isn’t the only one who could find clients––”
“Stop,” I grit out, hating the way my skin crawls at the memories. I raise my chin and look him straight in the eye. “I told you I was done.”
“Which is why I found you a spouse.”
“Why?”
“I have my reasons.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
I know that look. The one that says no matter how hard I push him, no matter how desperately I beg, he won’t answer me. It makes me feel like a little girl. Like an inconsequential object to be used at someone else’s disposal. Like a pawn. And I hate it.
Licking my lips, I drop the subject and try a different tactic. Because even though he’s not willing to answer that particular question, I can still piece together the puzzle and figure out what his plan is if I can keep him talking.
“Who is he, Dom?” I ask.
“Your husband?”
“Yes.”
“His name is Jack Connelly.”
When you’ve whored yourself out for almost a decade, you become very familiar with people, but the name doesn’t ring a bell.
“I don’t know that name,” I admit, my brows pinched.
“I’m not surprised,” he returns with a shrug. “He’s a Fed.”
What?!
“You’re joking.”
His arrogant grin makes my blood run cold. “I’m really not.”
What are you playing at, Dom?
Studying him carefully, I ask, “Why would you arrange for me to marry a Fed?”
“Because if you’re married to a Fed, our threats to blackmail all the dicks you’ve sucked will hold more weight.”
My gaze narrows. “How can you be so sure?”
“Because they won’t be able to kill you without repercussions. All your little clients will pay to keep you quiet instead of slitting your throat when you approach them with all the dirt you’ve collected during your little visits. We’ll be able to make them pay us hand over fist before disappearing into the sunset.”
Pay us.
Because he thinks he has a right to the money I’ve earned by spreading my legs for every guy Burlone sent me to. For every politician. Every celebrity. Every mafia family with a secret that needs to be revealed. Everyone. Yet, I never would’ve done any of it if he hadn’t wasted our entire family’s wealth on his gambling addiction.
Selfish bastard.
At least I’ve collected useful information during all of those visits. If I’ve learned anything in this business, it’s to keep my eyes and ears alert. Always watching and always listening for every dirty little secret and skeleton in their closet. And boy, do they have a lot of skeletons.
“And how did you convince a Fed to marry me?” I ask, searching for any loopholes he might’ve missed. Because even though he’s insane, this actually might work.
Dominic’s smirk is as hollow and lifeless as his soul, but he flashes it nonetheless. “I can be very persuasive.”
“In the Romano’s basement?” I clap my hands. “Bravo, Dominic. I’m impressed.”
His hands clench into fists at his sides. “You really are a bitch, Bianca. You know that, right?”
“I learned from the best. Now, tell me the truth. How did you convince a Fed to marry a Castello? What leverage do you have?”
“You don’t need to know.”
“But you’re going to tell me anyway,” I push.
“And why would I do that? You’re nothing but a woman in a man’s world, Bianca––”
“And you’re nothing but a roach in a basement,” I spit. “Tell me the truth or I walk away.”
“And where would you go?” he challenges.
“Doesn’t matter––”
“Oh, but it does. Because you’re nothing but a pawn in this game, and if you want us to win, then you’re going to play by my rules.”
“I’m leaving,” I announce, my tone laced with bitterness. Turning on my heel, I reach for the door when a cold hand grabs my wrist and yanks me away from it. I flinch as he presses my forearm