Page 117 of Bellini Bound
My brain short-circuited. “But how—” I shook my head, hoping that would be enough to clear it. “I only bet fifty total on that square.”
Enzo was quick to explain, “Because a straight number bet pays 35/1 odds. Then you had two more on the outside edge that paid 17/1 each, and another two on the inside split with four total numbers, which were 8/1 a piece.”
I blinked at my pile of chips that had almost tripled in the past few minutes. “That’s a lot of math.” Training my gaze on the dealer, I asked, “You did that all in your head?”
“Yes, ma’am.” He ducked his head, readying the table for the next spin.
“This is wild,” I breathed out.
Enzo shook his head in amusement. “I was just fucking around about beginner’s luck, butdamn, baby. Look at you.”
Unsure, I asked, “Should I try again?”
“Might as well, since you’ve gotta play until you run out of chips anyway.”
He had a point.
The process repeated itself, and I laid the exact same bets. The next spin landed on black eight, so I lost a hundred grand faster than I could blink. After that came black twenty-two, so I won some back with my chips touching all four corners—but not the straight number itself—because it was between the two I played.
That went on for a while, a steady ebb and flow of wins and losses. Until twenty-five hit and the thrill of total victory shot through my veins for a second time, and my mountain of chips quickly overtook the edge of the table.
“I have to ask,” Enzo asked while the table was being cleared during one of my losing spins. “Why nineteen and twenty-five?”
“Oh, well, um.” Heat rose to my cheeks. “Twenty-five was how old I was when I married you.”
A dazzling smile lit up his face. “Flattered, and also going to take all the credit for that last win, I’ll have you know.”
I tipped my head back, my laughter floating freely into the air. “I would expect nothing less.”
“And nineteen?”
“Just my lucky number.” I shrugged.
Enzo huffed out a laugh. “I’ll say.”
“Christ, those aren’t all your chips, are they?” At the sound of that familiar voice, we both turned our heads to find Matteo had joined us. “It’sbad for business if one of us comes out the winner. People will think we rigged the whole damn thing.”
“All Allie.” Enzo chuckled. “And she’s been playing straight numbers.”
Matteo reared back. “No shit. What’s your secret?”
“The better question is how I manage not to pass out every time I risk a hundred grand per spin. I think I’m sitting at about twenty panic attacks per hour at this rate,” I joked.
“Can’t say I blame you. It’s not a game for the faint of heart.” To Enzo, he said, “Just stopped over to let you know all the wire transfers have cleared.” Matteo clapped a hand on his cousin’s shoulder. “We did it, man.”
My husband visibly sagged in relief. “Thank fuck.”
“Now that everything’s been squared away, we’re gonna head out. Summer’s been asleep in the office upstairs for the past hour as it is.”
Acting like I didn’t know her exhaustion was pregnancy-induced, I asked, “Is it that late?” It was impossible to get a read on the time without windows in this warehouse-turned-casino.
Matteo nodded in confirmation. “Just past three. I’ll catch you guys later.” Then he walked away to retrieve his wife.
“You care if we split?” Enzo asked.
“But won’t my chips be forfeit?” I stared longingly at the neatly stacked rows on the table.
“Yeah, but this was all for fun anyway, right?” His lips found my neck, and I was powerless to stop my moan in response. “Besides, I’m dying to take you home and worship your body. All. Night. Long.” He bit down on my shoulder so hard I let out a little shriek.
