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Authors: Kirsty-Anne Still
“You’re a little spitfire,” he comments, more turned on than disappointed apparently. “Doesn’t lessen my affection for you in the slightest, Amelia.” He then grins at my father. “She’s definitely Tori’s daughter more than yours.”
My father’s face hardens furthermore at the sound of my mother’s name, but he manages to cover it up with a momentary roll of his shoulder and an overwhelming grin. “I always hoped she would be the epitome of her mother, and I can’t be unhappy that she is. It just means she’s a cause of distraction for men like you, Roberto, while I steal the game.”
“I deliberately wore this dress to help the cause,” I goad, putting my arm around my father’s to show an alliance with him. I give Zane a wink and see him relax a little. “Now, I have my whiskey and I have my money. All I need now is a seat and dealer.”
“Right this way,” Costello speaks, gesturing me over to the table. “Maverick, it’s two card poker, are you familiar?”
“Haven’t played in years,” Zane comment, a worrisome tone taking him over.
“We’ll get you up to speed,” my father announces confidently, giving Zane a wink.
I release my father and take a step forward, brushing deliberately up against Zane as I walk past him. I notice how everyone’s eager to play, so I take my seat and wait for the rest of them to take their own. Disappointment sparkles within as I see Zane has been butted around the table until the only seat he can take is between Andrew Rossi - sex pest extraordinaire – and Costello himself. We all set our drinks down and while some of the men smoke, Enzo and Carlo are watching me intently from across the large table. I try to withhold the urge to grin playfully because they know all about my tactics with distracting men enough to fold or worse – fuck up.
I take a moment to calm down, looking at the others around the table. It seems the same crowd has gathered and none of them are impressed with Zane’s sudden appearance at the high flyer’s table. I know they think he’s some insubordinate who’s all but married his way into power, but I know Zane; he has one of the best poker faces possible.
As we’re all dealt out two cards and we all take our money, Costello clears his throat.
“I say we start off with a smaller wager,” Costello comments, reaching into the inside of his pocket. He pulls out his own wad of cash, all of which appear to be one hundred dollar bills. He looks at Zane. “Can you keep up, Maverick? Or do we need to break out the kiddie table?”
“Nah,” Zane chuckles and reaches into the inside of his own jacket. “I like that we’re not taking this slow.” He pulls his own money out, looking quite pleased with himself.
“Let’s start with a grand as the token bet,” Costello announces and throws his money in. “I know we usually start bigger and blow it all, but let’s just build some anticipation,” he trails off, not emphasising.
No one hesitates to follow suit and as I draw back from throwing my own bet in, I pick up my drink and sit back in my seat. I watch the dealer begin to shuffle the cards before he tosses three cards out face down in front of him before continuing to deal us all our hand. As I pull my cards up to look at them again, I feel pleasantly happy with an eight and nine of spades. Silence beckons around us all and as I pull my cards off the table, I feel smugness settle as I hope there’ll be more spades in the dealer’s lot.
When I look up, I see Zane’s eyes are on me and I make sure nothing gives away how happy I am with my draw. Likewise, he gives nothing away apart from offering me a needy look. It’s sultry and heavy on me, and I feel the need to move a little on the spot. My movement breaks the moment.
As three cards are revealed, Costello is first to add another bet, upping his wager to two grand. My father and brothers join, even Zane does. Andrew folds as do two other men, but the rest of us throw our money into the middle and await the new card. I notice a four of spades and a two and king of hearts and feel confident to continue. The dealer gives us another card and I see another nine of diamonds. Again, I wait for the rigmarole of whether to put a new bet in or not happening before the final card is revealed as a nine of hearts.
Everyone bets a fourth and final time, Enzo and Carlo folding. I know I have a three of a kind so I go with it – it’s only four grand. When we’re all done, a deafening silence erupts and we all wait with bated breaths.
“Show,” the dealer commands and we all hand our cards over, revealing. I feel satisfied with my three of a kind kings, but when I hear Zane announce what he has, my stomach bottoms out.
“Two aces,” Zane lays down his cards, matching them to the two aces laid out by the dealer.
“I guess all the money goes to our new recruit!” Costello announces, putting his arm around Zane proudly. It’s one reason I love playing poker with the likes of Costello – there are no such things as sore losers. Unless you count Giovanni, that is.
No one says anything as a new game rolls around. Before I know it, we’re on to our sixth game, and it’s anyone’s game to win the jackpot tonight. No one is a clear winner, but I’m just waiting for Costello to demand we put all in and then some. It seems my brother is growing tiresome of Zane having another win when he sits back, arms crossed over his chest in petulance.
“Beginner’s luck,” Giovanni snarls as Zane pulls the money closer to his body. He then releases a small burst of mirth before growing rapt with intent. “I say we really up this ante.”
“What do you have in mind, Giovanni?” Costello asks, watching Giovanni while the dealer prepares for another round.
With a self-righteous smile on his face, Giovanni reaches into his side pocket and my heart thuds slowly to a halt. I see him place my mother’s pearls down on the table before he reaches back into his pocket and lays out a diamond necklace that I remember Zane bought his mother with his first wage check. My heart flutters and struggles as I look at those perfect pieces of jewelry set out as the biggest insults ever. I can see in my peripheral vision as Zane’s body bridles with prickling anger.
I look wildly at Enzo then Carlo, back to Enzo, until I settle on my father, praying he’ll take note of my panic-stricken expression and save one of the few things I have of my mother’s. The fire that burns through his eyes is strong and he reaches out to snatch the pearls back, but Costello’s hand reaches out, stopping him with a tight grip.
“Na uh, Salvatore, they’re on the table now. You’ll have to win these.”
“You seriously think I’m going to allow something so valuable as those to be bet away?” my father barks, ripping his hand away. He narrows a death glare upon Giovanni and shakes his head in dismay. “I thought we only played for money and material crap.”
“Sometimes I like seeing a little rebellion like that,” Costello comments and snaps his fingers at the dealer to be ready. “I guess I can add ten grand in and be done. They look like they wouldn’t be worth a thing.” He turns his nose up at the invaluable items of jewelry, only further angering the Abbiatis at the table.
“You’d be fucking surprised,” my father sneers, his aggression just waiting for the right trigger. “You’ll know exactly what they’re worth when I strangle the life out of my son with them.”
I realize my purse is about to become suddenly a hell of a lot lighter as my ten grand begins to disappear. As I count out the wads of cash, I send a silent prayer that my mother – hell, even Zane’s - will be looking over us. With the sickening idea that I’ll lose something I hold so dearly to my heart, I just throw all my money down and try to cover how much panic I’m burning through with every single inhalation.
“Maverick?” Costello urges, waiting on him to join. “Do you not have enough?” he jokes, laughing, forcing his own minions to join.
Zane scratches his head and laughs himself before speaking. “It’s okay, I saw this coming, so I’d like to join Giovanni and add something a little better,” he announces. He leans over to bury his hand into his pants pocket and pulls out black beading. “I wasn’t given the memo on playing fair either, so I’m glad I went with my gut.”
He allows the string of beads to drop from his hand and I see it’s Giovanni’s rosary beads and cross. I know from the way the light bounces off the serendibite stones that this is the necklace our uncle gave Giovanni after his first vicious kill. Each stone is said to be worth almost 2 million dollars per carat. You plus onto that the red diamonds embellishing the metal cross and you’re looking at a pirate’s dream fucking swag. I, also, know Giovanni uses this to get a sniff of cocaine while on the go and I cannot help but see my lucky stars twinkle.
“Complete with a few grams of cocaine inside and this,” Zane comments, but as he does so, reaches into his other pocket and pulls out several dozen small bags of cocaine ready to fill the metal cross.
Apparently, Zane thought it was wise to steal the entire loot and not just a little.
Immediately, Giovanni’s face reddens and he looks ready to kill Zane.
“I wouldn’t get pissed off, Gio,” I comment after watching him toss a few daggers at Zane with just a few quick glares. “Zane is actually playing pretty fucking fair with what you’ve bought to the table.”
“What about your panties too, Amelia?” Andrew asks, his voice that normal drone. “I’m sure any of us would love to be in them.”
“You keep dreaming,” I reply, keeping my voice sweet. “I’m selective of what STDs I want. When I’m looking for a cocktail of what you have living in your pants, I know your number.” I lean in across the table. “Deal,” I say, tapping the table.
“Hang on,” Costello pauses, showing who’s running the show here. “This is an all in round. You can’t fold, you can raise a bet, and you play for keeps. Understood?” he asks and waits for the affirmative that no one’s going to do the coward thing and back out. The dealer looks at Costello who nods his head to start the game.
I stare a little too hard at the cards in my hand – an ace and an eight only mean one thing in this sort of poker and that’s the ‘dead man’s hand’. To most it’s thought of as historic, rare, a good luck charm, but in this life it only has a literal meaning – dead man walking. Just my fucking luck to get the worst omen possible.
I look up, knowing I’ve probably failed at bluffing my way through this and watch Zane as he looks at his cards. I casually look around and wonder who’s going to win this. If we are all in – no folds, no extra bets – this is anyone’s game.
“Three cards,” the dealer states, placing the newest cards down. He turns them over and none save me from the appalling hand I was originally dealt. “One more card,” he calls out, adding another one and he repeats this action until there are five clearly displayed cards. “Show.”
As I do, I hear the snicker from beside me and I can’t look. When I do look up, I see Giovanni’s face fall and Zane’s lighten up. I sit up a little straighter and look around. I take note that Andrew nearly won, so did Costello and my father, but Zane’s cards stick out at me as he sits with a perfect royal flush. Giovanni’s haphazardly thrown cards sit pathetically showing no win at all.
“Maverick gets lucky this time again,” Costello announces proudly.
“While Amelia sits with the dead man’s hand,” I hear from beside me.
“Dead woman walking,” Giovanni gloats, sticking me with a viciously wicked gaze.
“Fuck off,” I snap, snarling at the man beside me. “Seeing as we’re all out of money, is that this evening cut short?”
“No, no, I don’t think the evening’s up right now. I reckon we should up the wager,” Andrew comments, leaning onto the table. “Strip poker. I’d do anything to see Amelia stark naked and a loser.”
I don’t get time to roll my eyes and make some smartass remark back as Zane suddenly moves, lightning speed accompanies him, and he slams a knife down, nailing it between Andrew’s fingers, narrowly missing dismembering his middle finger. There’s total stillness as he leans in, the creak of his chair is the only sound and we all watch with bated breath.
“Dare to talk about my girl like that again and I’ll make sure it’s a bigger member I threaten next time, understood?” Zane asks, his voice dangerously threatening. “Well, Andrew?”
“U-understood,” Andrew stutters, his eyes wide, but he does the wrong thing of looking at me.
Zane, noticing, leaves the knife, and reaches up to grab Andrew around the face. He forces him, in a vice-like grip, to look at him. Zane’s fingers begin to go white while Andrew’s face squishes up from the tight hold. He waits a moment before chuckling and releasing his prey.
“You could never get a girl like Amelia, so dream on,” he states, sardonically executing the words. “I already beat two men for treating her any less than she is; don’t think I’ll make an exception for you right now.”
It’s now that I notice how agitated my father looks. I also notice it’s not with Zane he’s angry, but his death glare is solely on Andrew for objectifying me in front of a roomful of men. I knew coming into the room as the only woman would cause distractions, but I never knew it would end up like this.
There’s a silence so strong you could hear a pin drop before it’s murdered by a round of applause from Costello himself.
“Salvatore, I dare say it, but I think you’re got yourself a champion here.”
My father practically beams at the idea. “Trust me; I knew he wouldn’t be one to give up at the first hurdle.”
Andrew, slipping his hand away from the knife, tests his luck. “He might be, but I still say we play strip poker. Amelia could be the best form of entertainment we’ve had all night. Maybe get some of the girls from upstairs down here, too.”