That does make me laugh, sharp and unrestrained. “Barney?” I repeat, tilting my head. “Like the purple dinosaur?”
His grin doesn’t falter, but his eyes narrow just slightly. “Like the guy who just made you rich,” he counters.
I stack my winnings and smirk. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
He leans in slightly, voice dropping just enough to feel like a secret. “Come on doll, just roll it again.”
His fingers curve around my wrist, and I stare into the golden hue of his eyes as the dice tumbles across my fingertips, and onto the table.
The dice spill across the table, bouncing once, twice—before landing in my favor. Again.
A chorus of groans and muttered curses ripple around the table, but Barney only laughs, low and smooth, as his fingers brush my wrist once more. “See, doll? Told ya. I’m your lucky charm.”
I drag my fingers along the edge of my winnings, smirking. “Or maybe I don’t need luck. Maybe I was already winning, and you just showed up to watch.”
He presses a hand to his chest, mock-wounded. “Damn. Tough crowd.”
I roll the dice between my fingers again, but before I can throw, a shadow falls over the table.
“I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”
The voice is smooth but firm, every word spoken with intent.. It slides down my spine like the sharp edge of a blade.
I look up, and see the man of the hour.
Sho stands at my side, a vision of tailored elegance and quiet danger. The black of his suit cuts a perfect line against his lean, toned frame, the crisp collar of his shirt open just enough to hint at smooth, tan skin. His hair, dark as ink, curves slightly where it falls over his forehead, the rest slicked back with effortless precision. But it’s his eyes that hold me still—deep, assessing, the color of midnight, void of anything that could be mistaken for warmth.
Barney shifts beside me, his easy confidence faltering. “Hey, man. We were just?—”
Sho tilts his head, slow and measured. “Leave.”
There’s no anger in his tone, no outright threat. Just a quiet certainty, an expectation.
Barney opens his mouth to argue, but then—he gets a good look at Sho.
His tan skin pales. “Shit,” he breathes, stumbling back a step. “You’re?—”
Sho doesn’t blink.
Barney swallows hard, backpedaling so fast he nearly trips over himself. “Didn’t realize, man. My mistake.” He glances at me, giving me a sheepish, almost apologetic look before he turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.
I arch a brow, watching him flee. “That was dramatic.”
Sho doesn’t acknowledge the comment. Instead, he steps closer, his presence swallowing the space between us. His fingers brush my wrist—just for a second, a whisper of contact before he takes the dice from my hand and sets them on the table.
“You shouldn’t play with toys,Hime,” he murmurs, eyes never leaving mine. “It’s a waste of time.”
I tilt my head, lips curving. “And what do you suggest I play with instead?”
“I don’t think you should play at all, pretty girl.” His lips quirk in satisfaction, as he extends his arm to me and I loop my arm in the crux of his elbow.
“I think you underestimate my intelligence,Shadow.” I tease looking around the room, my eyes snagging on the fine tailoring of a bald man who looks vaguely familiar.
I turn, guiding Sho to the Blackjack table, the only other game I know due to Nikolai’s obsession with the game as a teenager. He leans down, his breath cascading over the shell of my ear. “I would never underestimate the Queen of Russia. That’s like asking for my beheading.”
Sho slides onto one of the high stools, he taps the table twice, signaling to the dealer to hand him two cards. I follow suit, thedealer passing me two cards along with the vaguely familiar bald man next to me.
“You don’t have to ask for that,” I smirk. “If you want a little head, all you have to ask for isa little head.”