Chapter 24

Chapter Twenty-Four

Anya

A s a courtesy, I send an email to Benson Bennett to inform him that I’ll be grounded in the near future for a good few weeks. A reply comes immediately with a date, saying there’s no time like the present. Our game is set for Friday.

The rules are simple. Each of us can have one witness present. No weapons. The loser hands over the prize at once. It will happen at his club on his turf.

During the next few days, Livy teaches me how to play. I watch a few online tutorials. It’s easy enough. I actually enjoy the game, but I’m out of my depth. Benson has been frequenting the illegal gambling rooms for years. He’s a big Blackjack player and a lucky one at that. If I’m to save After Dark and Saverio’s organization, I better have my ducks in a row.

After sharing my plan with Livy, we decide it’s best not to tell the men anything. Dante will go ballistic. He’ll definitely inform Saverio of my intention, and Saverio will never allow me to play with a man like Benson, let alone gamble with After Dark. Sadly, I don’t have a choice. It’s either this gamble or getting myself maimed and killed when the payback day arrives.

On Friday, we leave Claire with Dante. Our excuse is that we’re getting bikini waxes at the spa. I did my homework and learned that Benson not only owns the club and the hotel in which it’s situated but also the spa on the first level.

As I predicted, Dante is too red in the face when I mention Brazilians to pose questions. Livy and I leave in my car, our bags already in the trunk. Two guards follow, but they park in the street to keep an eye on the building as men aren’t allowed in the spa.

In the underground parking, we change in the car. I put on a modest black dress with the diamonds Saverio gave me, opting for a smart, classical look. Livy wears a Coco Chanel style outfit with black stockings and spiky heels. Her lucky pearls are wound around her neck. Her long hair is twisted in shiny gray locks with white streaks that catch the light.

We take the elevator to the sixth floor lobby, my heart pounding in my chest while I plaster a smile on my face. We’re right on time, not a minute late or early. The man himself, Benson Bennett, waits for us when the elevator doors open.

My first impression of Benson is frightful awe. He’s big, broad, and roughish, dressed in a pinstriped suit and a hundred thousand-dollar watch. His dark hair that’s graying at the temples is brushed back. A stylish beard is shaved closed to his skin, the lines so symmetrical they must’ve been styled by a very talented barber. He smells as expensive as he looks. His smile is easy and friendly, and his handshake is firm but not crushing. He exudes an air of respectful familiarity without coming across as invasive. It makes me feel as if we’re old friends.

I’m not fooled by his amiable, civilized front though. Since crossing Saverio’s path, I’ve met enough dangerous men to know the one who stands in front of me won’t think twice about breaking my neck. If provoked, I may see a very different side of him.

“Mrs. De Luca,” he exclaims, holding my hand between both of his for a short second before letting me go. “Welcome to my abode.” He winks. “Yes, I spend more time here than at home. I may as well sleep here.” He waves an arm, motioning at the empty space. “I cleared the club out for the afternoon so that we can spend a convivial moment without being disturbed.”

It’s a nice way of saying he made sure there aren’t witnesses.

I return his smile, mine polite. “That’s very considerate of you.”

Indicating the man who stands at attention to his right, he says, “This is Fred, my manager. He’ll be my witness.”

“Livy,” I say, glancing at her. “She’s a good friend.”

He bows as he takes her hand and kisses her fingers. “You look lovely, Livy. May I offer you ladies a drink?”

“No, thank you, Mr. Bennett. I prefer to be clear-headed when I play.”

“A wise woman.” He flicks his fingers at Fred. “If you don’t mind, I’ll have a scotch. And please, call me Benson.”

“Only if you call me Anya.”

He concedes with a nod and then asks Livy if she wants a drink.

“It depends on what you have,” she says with a coquettish smile.

“Please.” He extends an arm toward a well-stocked bar. “Make yourself at home.”

When Livy steps forward, he flicks his fingers at Fred again. Apparently, it’s Fred’s cue to run ahead and serve the drinks.

Unlike Benson, Fred is dressed in casual attire. His ripped jeans are faded. A T-shirt with a metal band name spans over his chest. The tattoos that cover his arms disappear beneath the short sleeves. His blond hair is cut into a spiky style.

He slips behind the counter and takes a tumbler from behind. A pierced barbell jewel peeks out when he drags his tongue over his bottom lip. “What can I get you, granny?”

Livy narrows her eyes. “Call me granny again and I’ll shoot another hole through your tongue.”

Benson guffaws at that. “You’re funny.” To me, he says, “I like her. For that piece of priceless entertainment, I’ll let her do it too.”

Fred is a lot more reserved when he hands Livy the Shirley Temple she asked for, including the umbrella and the cherry, which Livy reminded him not to forget.

“If you’ll permit me,” Benson says, “I took the liberty of summoning a female guard. She’ll search your persons and your bags in the ladies’ room. You understand why it’s necessary.”

Fred pours a glass of water from a sealed bottle.

I accept the water he thoughtfully hands me. “Of course.”

While we sip our drinks, Benson tells us about the hotels and spas he owns and about his long-term plans of expanding. When our glasses are empty, Fred escorts us to a bathroom with gold-framed mirrors and marble vanities. The lounge area where ladies can rest and touch up their make-up is as big as Saverio’s living room. A woman dressed in a black uniform and white gloves stands in the center of the floor.

She goes through our bags before patting down Livy and me, going as far as to check underneath our skirts.

“All clear,” she calls to Fred who waits outside the door.

Back in the club, Benson raises his arms. “Who’s going to do us the honors?”

“That will be me,” Livy says.

She proceeds to pat down Benson and Fred. Satisfied that they don’t hide knives, guns, or cards under their clothes or in their pockets, Livy gives me a solemn nod.

With the business of the search done, we’re escorted to a small oval table in the center of a raised platform. Disco balls throw shards of color over the floor while ambience music plays in the background.

Benson pulls out a chair for me and leaves Livy to stand behind me. Then he unfastens the single button of his jacket, sweeps the edges aside, and sits with a gentlemanly flourish while Fred takes up a station at his back.

“Would you like me to run through the rules?” he asks.

To his credit, he doesn’t say that in a condescending manner.

“Good idea,” Livy says. “Just so we’re all on the same page.”

Benson smiles at her. “The winner gets all the cards used during that hand. We play until there’s no more cards in the deck. The person with the most cards wins.”

“That’s simple enough,” Livy says.

Benson directs his attention at me. “Questions?”

I swallow. “Nope.”

He pushes a new packet of cards toward me. “You can shuffle.”

I break the seal, and then I check that the deck is complete. Happy that everything looks in order, I shuffle the cards.

“Anya.”

I look up, catching Benson staring at me.

“I have a proposition for you,” he says.

Uneasy, I ask, “What kind of proposition?”

“I’d like to raise the stakes.”

Livy kicks the back leg of my chair.

“What’s your offer?” I ask, putting the deck on the table.

“I’m willing to triple the cash if you win.”

My mouth goes dry. That’s a huge amount of money. “What do you get if I lose?”

He leans forward, perusing me with a hawk-like, silver gaze. “After Dark, of course, and a night in your bed.”

Triple the cash is tempting, and we do need the money, but I don’t have to think twice. Lifting my left hand, I wiggle my ring finger. “Sorry, Benson, but that’s out of the question.”

He sits back, looking impressed instead of disappointed. “A brave and adventurous woman, and one with principles too. I admire that. Your husband is a lucky man.”

“Shall we begin?” I ask, my palms clammy with nerves.

“I’ve never been one to make a lady wait,” he says smoothly before pushing the deck toward me. “You deal. I’ll cut.”

My stomach is tied in knots. I’m relatively certain of myself, but there’s always that small chance that something will go wrong and that Saverio will lose everything he’s worked for.

He’s losing it anyway if you do nothing, Anya. Just focus.

For the first two rounds, I let Benson win. Just as a smug look comes over his face, I take the next game. I keep the odds relatively even, the discrepancy not big enough to notice, and in the last few rounds, I tip the scale toward my end until we’re more or less on par.

Benson is sweating by the time we deal the final round. He removed his jacket a long time ago, and he’s on his third scotch.

“Hit,” I say.

He rubs a hand over his beard and curses under his breath. “Stay.” Arching a brow, he asks, “Another hit?”

I shake my head. “I’m done.”

A big smile breaks out over his face as he neatly lays a jack of spades and a queen of hearts on the table.

The two fives and the ace of diamonds I put down wipes that smile clean away.

“Sorry, Benson. I believe that makes me the winner.”

He leans back, his chest deflating with the long breath he blows out, and wipes his brow with the paper napkin that came with his drink. “I don’t know what to say. I can, however, say I honestly didn’t expect this.”

I shrug. “Beginner’s luck.”

On the exterior, I practice calm, but inside, I’m frightened to death. I’m scared he’s a bad loser. He may very well decide he’s not happy to part with such a big fortune. Only his impeccable reputation of honoring his debts convinced me to stage this game, but I can’t help but worry it may still go wrong.

“It would very much seem so.” He stands, offering me a hand. “Congratulations, ladybug.”

I accept the handshake. “Ladybug?”

“My mother always said ladybugs signified luck.” He scrutinizes me as if I’m a puzzle he wants to figure out. “I haven’t had this much fun in a long time. It was touch and go all the way.”

“It was a tough game.”

He nods at Fred. “Prepare the cash.” Then he addresses me again. “Do you prefer a delivery, or did you make arrangements for safe transportation?”

“We’ll take the money now.”

Fred leaves promptly, making his way to a door that’s marked office at the back.

“As you wish,” Benson says. “May I offer you a celebratory drink?”

I push back my chair and stand. “I would’ve liked to say yes, but I have family responsibilities waiting.”

“You put your club on the line even though there was a fifty percent chance that you’d lose. That’s rather risky.” He studies me. “May I ask why?”

“It was all or nothing.” Guilt warms my cheeks when I add, “I didn’t have the money to repay you. It was either a card game and losing After Dark or getting my bones broken.”

“I appreciate your honesty.”

He takes a piece of paper from his jacket pocket, unfolds it, and shows it to me. It’s the contract I signed for the loan.

He tears it in half and hands it to me. “I hope I’ll have the pleasure again.”

“Oh no.” My laugh is awkward. “That was way too stressful for me.”

Fred returns with two black sports bags in each hand, his arm muscles bulging under the weight. He dumps them on the table and unzips each to reveal stacks of hundred-dollar bills. “It’s all there. You can count it.”

“That won’t be necessary,” I say, nodding at him in thanks.

“I bid you well, Anya De Luca. Remember to tell your husband he’s a lucky man.”

Fred closes the bags and hands two to me before passing the rest to Livy.

“I’ll do that,” I say, suppressing the urge to run for the exit.

I nudge Livy’s shoulder as our cue to go. We walk side by side to the elevator. I keep my back straight, praying that Benson isn’t going to pull out a gun and tell me that letting me leave with my winnings was just a big, fat joke and that he knows I counted the cards.

My heart thumps between my ribs, my throat so tight it’s difficult to breathe. I pinch my eyes shut when the elevator doors open, waiting for that shot to ring out, but we step inside, and nothing happens. I don’t have the strength left to school my features. I stare at the wall as we ride down to the parking lot, unable to believe it’s been so easy.

We keep up the facade until I turn into the traffic. Neither of us speak. Outside of Benson’s territory, I pull into the first parking space.

Livy jumps from the car and leans on the side. Bent over with her hands pressed on her thighs, she drags in air like a drowning person.

I do the same, getting out and propping my weight against the cool metal of the hood.

The guards pull up behind us, both of them jumping out of the SUV and making their way over with quick strides.

“Everything all right here?” the man who reaches us first asks, his hand already on the gun that’s hidden beneath his jacket.

“We’re fine,” I say, my voice unsteady. “Livy is a bit queasy.”

“It’s the sauna,” Livy says, wiping sweat from her brow. “It always makes me feel faint.”

“Do you need anything?” the man asks. “Water?”

“We’re fine, thanks,” Livy says. “I just needed some air.”

The men turn back for their car.

When they’re out of earshot, Livy looks over her shoulder at me. “Promise me we’re never doing that again.”

I’m shaking so badly I don’t think I can drive. Taking a few deep breaths, I calm my riotous nerves.

“Come on, ladybug ,” Livy says with a mischievous wink. “Let’s get out of here. We shouldn’t gallivant around the city with a few million in cash in the trunk.”