Empire Of Chance Series, chapter two

LEONE My eyes scan the floor below, looking for the woman responsible for ripping me off. She’s unaware that her fate is now in my hands, an undesirable position to be sure. The casino floor below us buzzes with the electric thrum of excitement and desperation, the sounds of hopes and dreams being kindled or crushed beneath the relentless turn of cards and roll of the dice.

I watch the scene unfold with detached amusement from my vantage point on the mezzanine. Their misfortune lines my pockets. The neon lights cast an eerie glow on the players below.

Every face tells a unique story, be it tragic or comedic. They are nothing, mere ants, wasting their lives gambling for a chance to change their lives, yet they won’t find it here. The odds never favor them; I’d be out of business if they were.

The odds, cruelly skewed, ensure my empire’s survival, a truth they willingly blind themselves to in their pursuit of fortune. Rule One: abandon all hope at the door. This is not a place of triumphs; it’s a graveyard of dreams, where my house preys upon the naive and the desperate.

Loaded dice; the cards marked, and the slots are a siren song leading to a financial shipwreck. The thrill of the risk and the adrenaline of the near-win are the hooks that sink deep into their souls, dragging them back time and time again. Rule Two: Recognize the illusion of the big win.

It’s a mirage in the desert of despair, an oasis that vanishes upon approach. The illusion of the big win is the dealer’s best trick. It’s a phantom, a cruel joke played upon those foolish enough to believe in fairy tales.

The cycle is merciless; loss breeds desperation, leading them back into my clutches. In this world, addiction wears the pretty smiles of the girls dealing and is housed on smooth felt tables. It whispers sweet nothings of luck and fate into the ears of the damned, seducing them into believing that just one more roll.

One more hand and one more spin will be their salvation. But in this game, the only salvation lies in walking away, a feat few have the strength to achieve. Rule Three: The house always wins; its foundations are built on broken dreams and empty wallets.

In this game, money, lives, relationships, and futures are gambled away. Gambling here is more than a game—it’s a chasm few can escape. Here, lives are not just wagered; they’re devoured, piece by piece, until nothing remains but the hollow shell of a once-hopeful soul.

This is my kingdom of despair, where hope is slaughtered under Lady Luck’s cold, unfeeling gaze. The casino is more than a den of vice—it’s a world where hope and despair are currency; in gambling, the only winner is the one who holds the deck. Milo sidles up to me, leaning casually against the railing.

His usually impassive face betrays a hint of tension as he looks out over the casino floor. “How was your meeting with your father?”

Milo asks, and I glare at the floor below. “As always, he wants me to marry. The establishment’s shareholders want a family man in charge.”

“I thought you were buying it?”

Milo asks. “They don’t want to let go of the Red Lantern. Verdigris owed debt, so they had no choice. Red Lantern, the Mexicans want to make it into a family-safe establishment; they’ve agreed to go 50/50 but are concerned about the optics of my bachelor persona”

Milo sighs. We planned to buy the entire strip, but my father believed I needed to remain on the good side of the Mexican Cartel. The last thing we need here is a war.

“Since when is your father worried about the Mexican Cartel?”

Milo asks. “He isn’t, but we may need them if things go south with the Russians, and right now, my father has the governor breathing down his neck,”

I tell him. “So, why does that matter? The governor is in your pocket,”

Milo states with a shrug. “Yes, but he said he can’t afford cartel wars with the upcoming election.”

“So, what are you going to do? Marry to please the cartel?”

“Definitely not for them. But I need to figure something out. My brother has agreed to marry Santos’ daughter to strengthen alliances. I know he’s doing that because he hopes to get his hands on that club,”

I tell him. “I can’t believe your father still tolerates him after everything with Lyd…”

I glare at Milo. I don’t need the reminder of my ex-wife and what he took from me. Milo knows better than to mention her name, so I’m surprised at his slip of the tongue.

Changing the subject, I motion toward the card dealer on the floor below, whom I’ve been watching since I left the meeting with my father. “You’re positive it’s her?”

I ask, my voice a low rumble. His gaze goes to where Fallon deals cards with grace and precision, which belies the tension simmering beneath her calm exterior. “Positive,” he confirms, not taking his eyes off the girl.

“It was her.”

Milo lets out a heavy sigh, the weight of his unspoken thoughts pressing between us. “You know what this means?”

I ask, although it’s more a statement than a question. His fascination with her is a curious thing, uncharacteristic of a man of his stature. Yet, this girl has had his attention unbeknownst to her for five years.

Despite this, he still came to me when he caught her cheating Verdigris. She may have stolen his attention, but I hold his loyalty, and soon, I’ll hold her life in my hands. Milo knows this, but I must be sure this won’t break him.

I worry it will, the fact is that he could easily kidnap and bend her to his will. But he hasn’t disclosed much about his obsession. Instead, he has watched her from the shadows, through the cameras, for five years and done nothing.

Milo shifts uncomfortably, his loyalty battling against the draw he feels toward her. “My loyalty is to you,” he states, a hint of resignation in his tone.

“She cheated you. Do what you gotta do.”

“I’m curious how she bought into those games,”

I admit. Milo lets out an exasperated breath, and I glance at him; he knows how. “You know?”

I ask. Although it is more of a statement than a question, I can tell by how he doesn’t want to answer. He nods once, and I curse under my breath.

“She is a daring little thing,”

I mutter. No one crosses me, and she would have to know it’s suicide to steal from me. “And feisty. I spoke with Verdigris security earlier. Apparently, she waltzed in there and demanded to be allowed to play. When they said no, she gave them a mouthful.”

“And they still let her enter?”

I scoff. “Probably thought she would be an easy win.”

Milo shrugs. My eyes narrow on him. “Well, they were wrong,”

I say, slightly annoyed. “So, what do you want to do?”

Milo probes, and I know he is curious about what I have planned for her. Usually, those who cross me are men, none of whom live for much longer. However, women are easy to sell off or willing to negotiate their pussy for payment.

I don’t traffic women; that’s my father’s way of dealing with them. But this woman owes a lot, so I am seriously debating selling her ass to the highest bidder to get her off my plate. Part of me, however, has a strange feeling Milo would probably buy her for himself.

Which in turn would cost me more, knowing he won’t have what she owes me and would have to borrow it. I study Fallon’s movements, the way her deep green eyes scan the room, missing nothing. Her blonde hair cascades over her shoulders.

She is beautiful, undoubtedly, but her beauty is not what captures my attention. It’s the sharpness of her mind, the calculated risks she takes; she didn’t just play the slots; she entered the underground games, which are teeming with men who easily scare off most women. Instead, she challenged them, and I want to know why.

“That’s the thing,”

I muse aloud. “I don’t have to do anything. I could leave Fallon for you to handle, knowing your… what would we call it, fondness, obsession? You watch her more than you watch my back when here.”

I laugh. Milo nudges me with a shake of his head before turning his attention back to her. Milo’s gaze hardens as he watches her, a conflict raging behind his eyes.

“So, what do you want to do?”

I ask, turning the decision over to him. “What we always do,” he replies after a moment, his voice firm.

“We take care of it. We can’t show weakness, not now, with the Russians breathing down our necks.”

The Russians have been a thorn in our side, interfering with my shipments. A bold move, signaling a dangerous shift in the underground power balance, so a cheating card dealer playing her own house is the last thing I need. Fallon meets our gaze from below unflinchingly.

“She doesn’t scare easily,”

I muse, astonished at her audacity. “Or she has a death wish,”

Milo adds in a dark tone. I shake my head slightly. “She can’t fear death. Not if she stepped into Verdigris.”

The underground games at Verdigris are notorious—brutal, unforgiving, and typically a man’s domain. “A woman joining those games…”

I trail off, my interest piqued. “She must be desperate,”

Milo concludes, and I nod in agreement. A woman like her risks far too much by stepping foot into those games where women are swapped like currency or used to settle debts. Indeed, she wouldn’t risk her life in such a way without a compelling reason.

I turn back to the scene below, a plan forming in my mind: Fallon McAllister, a dealer in my casino, a card shark at Verdigris, a woman who doesn’t flinch under the gaze of the city’s most dangerous men. There’s an undeniable allure to her. She deals another hand, her fingers deft and sure, oblivious that her fate is being decided just a few feet above her.

Turning to Milo, his gaze is still on her. “Keep a close eye on her. She’s clever, more so than she lets on. And Milo,”

I pause, ensuring I have his full attention. “Don’t let your feelings cloud your judgment. We can’t afford any slip-ups.”

“Understood,” he says, but there’s a lingering trace of something unspoken in his eyes.

Something that has me questioning my decision to kill her. Either way, I want to see her reaction when she realizes my gaze is more sinister than she comprehends.