Page 23 of Mending Our Chance

12 Marcus

A week later, I found myself in a dark street, the winter wind biting through my coat as I faced the door in front of me.

I had nothing but my name and an emergency stack of cash that I had not earned and only been given, because I had been born into the right family. It went against everything I was standing for to be in this place with a satchel full of green dough that I was about to turn into chips. It was not the sordidness of the place that bothered me, but the fact that the wealth I was playing with was not my own. I did not belong amongst these men and women who had all worked, fought, and gained their place here. This was, however, an emergency. I needed to pay Felicity back, and how I would manage that without insulting her and losing her as a partner, I had yet to figure out. And that didn’t stop me from entering a den of lions and fighting for a chance to try.

I had not behaved honorably a week ago. I had taken advantage of Felicity, infringing on her generosity. She’d taken a risk for me. She’d claimed this was her stand, but if her family paid the price for her accomplishments, I knew that she would never accept them at the value they should be accepted.

So, into the depths of hell, I now trod. In the underworld, there was not one ruler but a plethora of princes, each ruling their own kingdoms with a heavy dose of violence. These princes knew that to do anything less would cost them their crowns. They were various devils, masquerading as men who gathered for weekly games of chance that were laced with skill. Poker was their favorite, although the other assortments of gambling games were plentiful. This was the place to be if I wanted to try my luck.

Taking a deep breath, I entered. Nodding to the men in suits that cost the same as one of my family’s beach houses, I pushed forward into the belly of the beast. I had told Felicity that I would put this company first, but I was hoping that the business would soon come second, and me, first. To do that, I needed to offer her something of value, and I had come to this place to find it.

Scanning the room, I loomed over the balcony. The lights were brilliant, yet, there were well-placed shadows everywhere. And in one of those shadows was my prey. Sitting at a table, I could see that Signor Argento was short. His salt and pepper hair was still thick, worn long with a liberal amount of oil. He was dressed all in black with the gold glint of a wedding band on his left hand. I noticed the matte black watch on his left wrist. The only other pieces of metal were the cuff links and tie clip. He looked like the older generation of gangster, and it was rumored that he was rich as Croesus. I’d also heard he was always interested in money ventures.

It took a bribe, but soon enough I was given a seat at his table. Without much protest, we began the poker game after they found out I had money to lose. This was a game I had become a master of in the Marines. My experience enabled me to quickly learn the tells of the other men, but my mark was another matter entirely. Signor Argento was pure stone. Trying to gauge a read on the one man who mattered had me stumped. It was invigorating. I was in my element. I could easily see myself belonging in this dark hole. After all, I had my own monsters—they were the result of the scars I bore. This meant that I wasn’t afraid of the beasts around me, and that lack of fear appeared to stump them.

“I heard you had trouble,” someone piped up to my right.

I looked up and immediately tried to hide my mirth. The man’s red hair was perfectly coiffed and he wore too much bling to be taken seriously. He was also about to lose this hand. “What are you talking about?” I enquired mildly.

“Your company was bought out from under you.”

“It was.” I kept my voice clipped. There was no point showing my hand to the fish I was about to lure in.

“What will you do now? Lose yourself in the gaming halls?” This query came from a Cuban man to my left.

“I played poker before my downfall. I will continue to play it now, and even later when I climb back on top.”

I folded. I had everyone at the table, but I wasn’t ready to strike. A shiver of satisfaction flicked through me when I saw that I had this game. My pride needed the small moral boost, and while they laughed at my expense, I kept waiting for Argento to speak. But it wasn’t until he took the red head for thirty large that he broke his silence.

“You have already formed a new corporation.” It was not a question, but Argento left the statement open-ended.

The next hand had begun. I reminded myself that the sacrifice of my pride had to be worth the prize of taking Argento. I would never have touched the money I was playing with if there hadn’t been a greater purpose. In this situation, the ends were certainly going to have to justify the means.

I finally responded with, “I have.” Then I raised him a few thousand.

There was a small fortune sitting in the duffle bag I had brought with me and the stack of chips in front of me were only a quarter of my spoils. I hated using my family’s money, but it was buying Felicity’s freedom. By luring in an investor, neither would I be sacrificing my morals by building my business with my family’s money, nor would I be offending Felicity by using my money.

“You must have other products to sell,” Argento murmured as he met my raise and raised again.

I pretended to hesitate, creating a fake tell. My pair of cowboys was pretty, but I decided to change a card out, then called him.

I lost. But there was an unmistakable glint in those dark Italian eyes. The soft smile on my lips was a greeting to that familiar sin and a confirmation that Argento was as greedy as his reputation suggested.

“I am looking for investors,” I finally revealed, scratching my clean shaven face and shuffling in my seat to illustrate nerves I didn’t feel.

“You will take your company public again? So soon?” This was the first question Argento had put to me.

I flipped through my cards, made an obscene bet, and then hooked my fish. “No. This company will be private,” I informed him. “And the investor will be silent.”

“Ah.” Argento traded out cards as he flicked his eyes over the table.

The Cuban threw in a lot of money, but the rest folded.

“This must be fate then, for you came to me and not some other rich bastard. Tell me about your company.”

It was the opening I was waiting for. So, we played poker and I sold my soul.

I saw the raw lust for wealth in Argento’s eyes, but at one point he surprised me by derailing my thoughts with an odd question. “Tell me about your business partner. Is she also your woman?”

---