People were clustered in a circle, one spotlight beaming down harsh white light over a round table where a wide smear of blood was smudged on the surface. Evgeny held out his free hand, and another white-gloved butler placed a revolver in his palm. He released Adriana and took bullets from his pocket and loaded the revolver, spinning the chamber. His audience buzzed. Not anxious or agitated, they were fucking excited.
Evgeny’s hand went to Adri’s bottom and pulled her up against him. She visibly stiffened as he brushed his lips across her jaw.
A low growl ripped from my throat.
Berezin raised the revolver for all to see. Staring at Luca, still holding onto Adriana, he placed the gun ceremoniously on the center of the table.
Russian fucking roulette.
The raucous jabbering of the spectators grew louder at Evgeny’s challenge. An excited, impatient babble of foreign languages.
“Prove yourself to me,” Luca breathed, his voice steely, low. Just for me. “Prove yourself toher. Now is your time, DeMarco.”
My heart slammed in my chest, my eyes jammed shut.Do this one thing for me.
“Luca. Time to play.” Berezin’s voice sliced through the air, silencing everyone. Everyone but me.
He’d unloosed the pin in the grenade.
Adriana’s fierce gaze held me in its grip. She remained rigid. She needed me.
I needed to protect her. Save her.
I needed her.
Pushing through the tittering crowd, I stood in the light in front of the blood smeared table. Everyone’s gaze devoured me. Their knotted expectations released and filled the air with the press of something more fervent than before. Something nauseating, bracing, galvanizing. Adriana twisted in Berezin’s hold. Evgeny only took me in anew, dissecting me from head to toe as men in absolute power were want to do, men like my father, searching for the intriguing, useful pieces they needed, wanted to acquire.
The useful tool.
“Luca?” asked Evgeny, his eyes still on me.
Luca came up beside me and bowed his head slightly, a hand gesturing in the air.With my compliments.
“Sit,” Evgeny said, slanting his head at me, his voice lighter. The courteous host.
Come out a winner, Luca got his chance at a contract with Evgeny and, hopefully, me and Adri would walk away. Come out a loser, Luca lost his contract, maybe a limb, and I lost my life. And fuck knew what would happen to Adri.
That wasn’t going to happen.
I pulled out the chair and sat at the table, blowing out short breaths to steel myself. But there was no “steeling” anything. It was all an illusion right at this very moment. All of it. The spotlit table meant to blur my vision and thoughts, the excited betting and shuffling of money all around me.
I’d never done this before, played this particular game. I’d seen it once in a warehouse on the outskirts of Chicago. Both hapless victim and the speedy adrenaline rush it had left us with had been dismissed and forgotten almost the next second.
Now I was the victim, the bull in their arena, the dice, the wheel of chance providing the adrenaline rush.
The hushed tones of the men and women around me buzzed in my ear, the shuffling of their tense movements suddenly loud, their anticipation crackling in the air like lightning in a coming storm. A cold sweat prickled my skin and ran down my spine. I was the offering. The sacrifice to their party god, to their thirst for entertainment. To big business.
This ship must have a freezer full of dead bodies that got unloaded once they were out at sea.
“Turo, no.” That beautiful, exotic voice uttered.
My eyes darted to Adriana’s. Terror. Worry. Was she worried about me? There was something different, new. I let it wash over me, fill me. She lifted her chin and held my gaze, those memorable lips of hers pressed together.That was one fucking great kiss. Was it my last?
“Place your bets, everyone,” Evgeny announced.
An eruption of activity and noise. Paper shuffling, shouts, clamoring voices. A man darted quickly around the room, collecting more money, jotting down final bets.
“Take the gun now,” Evgeny said to me.