Page 5 of The Love Language of the Cartel

The men around the table laughed, and I felt a familiar thrill run through me. This was where I thrived—in the heart of danger, surrounded by men who underestimated me at their own risk.

As the game progressed, I carefully studied each player’s tells. Chen’s left eye twitched when he was bluffing. Reed drummed his fingers when he was confident. And Vinnie? He leaned back in his chair when he had a good hand as if he’d already won.

I used the knowledge to my advantage, raising the stakes when I knew they were weak and folding when their confidencewas genuine. With each hand, I chipped away at their stacks, my own pile growing steadily larger. I’d been playing poker and learning people based off the things they didn’t say since I was a kid. I practically grew up in my father’s club. I knew better than to trust half of the bullshit that came out of any of their mouths.

“Damn, Demi,” Chen exclaimed after I took another pot. “Your old man teach you to play like this?”

I laughed, the sound light and carefree despite the tension I felt coiling in my stomach. “Please. My father may have taught me the rules, but I perfected the art of the game all on my own.”

“Is that so?” Vincent leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with amusement and something else. Interest, perhaps? “You know, Demi, a woman with your skills would make quite the wife. Volkov might have fucked up the conversation earlier, but has a contract been arranged for you?”

I couldn’t help but roll my eyes at his comment, feeling a flicker of annoyance. “Oh, Vinnie,” I said, my tone dripping with artificial sweetness. “I don’t think it matters. You know I could never marry a man I’ve beaten at cards. It would be terribly emasculating for you, wouldn’t it?”

The table erupted in laughter, and I caught a glimpse of Vincent’s face slightly tightening with embarrassment.Good. Let him stew in his humiliation.

“Tell you what,” I continued, unable to resist twisting the knife a little. “If any of you manage to beat me—truly beat me, mind you, not just take a single hand—then I might consider it. But until then . . .” I trailed off, shrugging my shoulders with feigned nonchalance.

None of them knew about the contract my father made with Rivera, and it hadn’t been stated publicly yet. However, it was only a matter of time until it was.

Reed chuckled, slapping Vincent on the back. “Looks like you’ll be waiting a long time, Vinnie boy. Our Demi here is undefeated.”

As the laughter died down and we returned to the game, I couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride. This was my world, my arena, and I’d carved out my place in it through sheer force of will and intellect.Let them underestimate me—it only makes my victories that much sweeter.

But even as I reveled in my success, a nagging voice in the back of my mind reminded me of the true stakes at play. This wasn’t just a game—it was a demonstration of power, a reminder to those men that I wasn’t just Cyrus Malone’s daughter but a force to be reckoned with in my own right.

I didn’t want to be known for being the daughter of a don.

I wanted them to know me as a bad bitch.

I was about to call another round when I caught a dash of movement from the corner of my eye. Dominic was trying to get my attention. His face, usually stoic, carried a hint of tension that immediately put me on alert. With a subtle tilt of his head, he motioned toward the club’s bar.

My eyes followed his gesture, and my heart plummeted. Harris couldn’t seem to take a fucking hint.What is wrong with this delusional, cheating ass nigga?

“Gentlemen,” I alerted them, my tone steady despite the turmoil inside. “I believe it’s time for a short break. Don’t spend all your money at the bar—I intend to relieve you of it when we return.”

They chuckled, none the wiser to my inner distress. As they dispersed, Harris approached, his eyes locked on me with an intensity that made my skin crawl.

“Baby girl.” He greeted me, his voice dripping with false charm. “I didn’t say this earlier, but you’re looking beautiful as ever. You look as good in it as I know you would out of it.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes but couldn’t hold back my expression of disgust. He’d never get the privilege of touching me again. “Harris. I’ve already told you I’m in the middle of a game, and I damn sure ain’t your baby girl no more. What do you want?”

He leaned forward, trying to create an air of intimacy that we no longer shared. “I’m not going to lie to you. I was hoping we could have a word. In private.”

He’s not going to lie to me?That was rich, considering all he did was fucking lie when we were together. My fingers tightened around my drink. The last thing I wanted was to be alone with him, but I couldn’t show weakness. Not here, not now.

“I’m busy,” I replied coolly before taking a sip of my whiskey. “Whatever you have to say can wait.”

Harris’s calculated smile faltered for a moment as a flicker of frustration crossed his face. “It’s important, Demi. You’ll want to hear what I have to say.”

I met his gaze, unflinching. “I very much doubt that. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have another game to win.”

Before I could entirely dismiss Harris, Dominic stepped between us, his linebacker physique and imposing frame creating a much needed barrier. His voice was low but firm as he addressed my ex. “She said she’s busy, so run along, you dainty mothafucka.”

I saw the muscles in Harris’s jaw tighten and his eyes narrow as he glared at Dominic. For a moment, I thought he might’ve thrown a punch, but then a cruel smile split his face.

“Fine,” he spat, his gaze slithering back to me. “But don’t count on that marriage contract of yours going through, baby girl. Things aren’t as settled as Daddy Dearest would have you believe.”

My heart lurched in my chest.How the hell does he fucking know about that?The contract was supposed to be top secret, known only to a select few.

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