Bloody Heart (Brutal Birthright #4) - Sophie Lark Page 0,30

her parents don’t share your opinion. Or Bosco would be looking at a murder charge.”

My father throws me a warning glare.

“Her parents should have kept their daughter at home,” Bianchi sneers. “You should have seen how she was dressed. Like a ten-dollar whore.”

My fists are balled up like two rocks under the table. I want to smash Bianchi right across the jaw. He’s a fucking hypocrite, acting like a father of the year when his own son is worth less than spit on the sidewalk.

This is exactly the kind of dirty work that Simone’s family would most look down on. Right in this moment, I’m exactly what they disdain.

I push away from the table before I say something I’ll regret.

“I’m gonna go find Nero,” I say.

As I stalk away, I hear Papa smoothing things over with Bianchi. “We’ll take care of it, Vincenzo. Don’t worry.”

I head back to the kitchen, where I nod to Zalewski, the Polack who owns the restaurant.

“You going down to the game?” he asks me.

“Is Nero playing?”

He nods.

“I’ll go watch, then.”

I push through the narrow door that looks like it leads to a storage closet. Instead, it gives way to a steep, dark staircase that descends into the bowels of the building.

This is where Zalewski runs his illegal poker game.

It’s not the biggest or the fanciest game in the city, but it’s the one with the most cache. While the ringers and the grinders like to play the bigger games where they’re assured at a least a couple of fish they can strip for chips, only the best of the best play at Zalewski’s game. You win there, and you can win anywhere.

I’m guessing this is what Nero’s been saving his money for, when I give him his cut of the armored truck jobs. He thinks he’s going to take down Siberia, the Russian ringer.

They call him Siberia because he always gets the cooler—the hand that kills your hand, even when you played it perfectly.

Sure enough, when I get down to the dim, smoky table, I see Siberia sitting at one end, flanked by two fellow Bratva, and then Nero sitting opposite with a hefty stack of chips in front of him. The other three players are The Matador, Action Jack, and Maggie the Mouth.

“Hey, Dante!” Maggie shouts, as soon as she sees me. “Where you been, big boy? I haven’t seen you in a month!”

Nero spares me a glance, his gray eyes flashing up at me before he turns them right back at his stack of chips again. I see him counting his stack and Siberia’s, which takes him all of two seconds. My brother is brilliant, much as I hate to admit it. But he’s also reckless and eager to make a name for himself. I don’t like that he’s playing, especially against Siberia, who’s as cold and humorless as his name would suggest.

Siberia looks more like a Viking than a Russian, with a full red beard and a barrel chest. He’s tattooed all the way down to his fingernails.

It looks like he’s got about $15k in front of him, though I can’t count it at a glance like Nero did. Nero has about two-thirds as much—maybe $10,000 in chips, which as far as I know, is about all the money he owns at the moment.

I’d like to grab him by his collar and haul him out of here, but you don’t leave mid-game.

So I just have to watch as the dealer lays out the cards.

Siberia’s on the small blind. He throws in a ten-dollar chip. The Russian on his left folds, then The Matador does the same. Maggie thinks about it a minute, before laying down her cards. Nero opens the betting with a hundred-dollar chip.

Siberia snorts. He’s seen plenty of young and hungry players in his time.

Not wanting to match that aggressive bet, The Matador and the other Russian fold. It’s just Siberia and Nero in the hand now.

Siberia isn’t going to be bullied by any kid. He re-raises to $300. Nero calls.

The dealer lays out the flop: Ace, Ten, Ten.

Nero has position. Siberia fires half the pot—another $300. Nero raises to $1000, taking control of the hand. Siberia calls.

Nero’s betting hard, but I know my brother. I know how aggressive he is, and how much he wants to prove himself. I don’t believe he’s got anything yet. He’s probably chasing a straight.

The turn card is a Six of Diamonds. Unlikely to help either player.

For the first time, Siberia hesitates. He’s probably