1. Chapter One

Chapter One

Ian

Day after day, night after tonight, I crave.

I'm not sure what I want so badly, but it gnaws inside me, eating away at my motivation to continue this empire.

Something is missing.

"Mr. Roulette?" James, my security guard knocks on my open door.

"Come in." I stand, throwing on my blazer while looking out the window to the ocean. It's a beautiful night. There are stars out by the millions. The moon is high, casting an ethereal glow onto the sea. The dock is empty, lamps glowing like mini suns, a beacon for the smuggling boats to anchor here.

I have my hands in plenty of jars.

Casino and resort owner by day. Illegal gambling and trade dealing by night.

Do I know it's wrong?

Yes.

Do I fucking care?

No.

No one becomes an emperor playing by the rules. I've built my kingdom from the ground up. Every billionaire, every pirate, every dealer, in every corner of the fucking world knows who I am.

Ian Roulette doesn't play games.

I win them.

But games, while they have made me all the money in the world, are missing a component. They say money can't buy happiness, and for a long time, I believed that nonsense because I could buy whatever I wanted.

Yet here I am, thirty-five years old, and I'm tired of the game.

I've learned money can't buy happiness because what I want can't be bought, and that's something I am not used to.

"Patrick is here to see you. Again ." He stands in the doorway. Hands behind his back. Dressed in a sleek navy suit, the gun on his hip causing his blazer to stick out slightly, and the scar along his jaw screams not to fuck with him.

"Tell him to go home, James. He has no place here." I button my suit, trying to keep the exhausted sigh locked inside my body.

Patrick is a regular here at the casino and in my underground gambling den.

He's addicted. The type of man who makes promises he can't keep. The only reason he doesn't have a bullet between his eyes is because his father knew my father.

Not even a familial tie will be able to save him much longer before I feed him to the sharks.

"He says he has something to pay the last bet with, the one he lost."

I down the rest of my whiskey and lift a brow. Patrick has lost plenty of bets, but the last one, he had nothing to offer me in return.

Two weeks ago, he bet his home.

And now, I'm the proud owner of a small family farm.

Before that, he had to sign the title over to his gorgeous 1956 Mustang.

And before that, his mother's wedding ring.

What else could the man have to lose?

"Interesting," I say, knowing damn well I shouldn't take anymore from this family, but like the greedy man I am, I'm too curious to know if what he has is what I've been craving.

"I thought you'd say that sir. He's downstairs waiting."

"You didn't allow him inside, did you?" The last thing I wanted was for this man to be able to see the inside of my home.

He drops his head and lifts his eyes, giving me a look that says, ‘What the fuck do you think?'

"Right. I know you know better." Giving the dock one last look, I pour myself another drink before walking around my desk. "Well, let's get this over with."

"Mr. Roulette—"

"Ian, James. Ian. We've known each other long enough. You only need to be formal in front of others."

"Ian," he corrects himself, his quick strides matching with mine as we head to the elevator. "When will Patrick stop being an issue? I can have him taken care of and you won't have to worry about him again."

I tilt my head back and smile, loving the ruthless nature of James. When the sleek stainless-steel doors open, I right myself, staring straight ahead. "When I get what I want from him."

"When has he ever been useful?"

"Never." My reflection glares at me from the polished elevator doors. "But everyone has something, James. And when I get it, then, I'll decide what I want to do."

"Yes sir."

If I'm not mistaken, James sounds disappointed. I pat him on the back. "You'll be able to fire your new weapon soon enough. Don't be so sad."

"I'm not sad," he grumbles, his tone betraying him.

The elevator descends, with a classical ding sounding as we pass each floor.

Four to be exact.

The closer we get to the lobby, I will the exhaustion to disappear from my face and straighten my spine. Watching myself turn into a villain in the reflection of the stainless steel doors always surprises me. My features become harder and tighter, my jaw flexes, and annoyance is painted on my face.

This job, this business, it isn't for the weak.

Men like me can't afford to have weaknesses or we drop from predator to prey. It will be a cold day in hell before I'm at the bottom of the food chain.

The elevators open to my foyer, the chandelier gleaming, the marble floor freshly polished. No one would know that last night, I killed a man right here. His blood was a pool on my pristine floors. Death is always the answer when someone tries to undermine me.

James opens the oversized bulletproof front door for me and Patrick is pacing in my driveway, chewing on his fingernails. His hair is standing up in every direction from nervously running his hands through it. Dark circles stain his under eyes as if he hasn't slept in a week. His clothes are filthy, and his body odor is atrocious, but I don't let myself flinch.

I stand a few feet away, unbutton my blazer, shrug it off, and then hand it to James. I roll up my sleeves, showing the swirling designs of my tattoos, but it's the tallies on my forearm I like to display the most.

One for every kill done by my own hands.

It's my scorecard.

"Patrick," I greet, letting my annoyance drip through my voice. James hands me a cigarette and I dig into my pocket for a lighter. I puff, letting the bright orange ember glow in the night. I exhale the smoke, clouding Patrick's face. "What do you want disturbing me at my own home so late at night?"

"Mr. Roulette, I—I have something for you." He takes a step forward and James blocks him, but I tug my security guard back and nod.

"It's alright. Patrick and I are going to have a nice conversation, aren't we?" I stare him down and Patrick nods with a gulp.

I take another inhale of my cigarette and smile, wanting to break the tension. "It's good to see you. It's been a while, Patrick. I thought you forgot about me."

He shakes his head and looks down at his feet, his oily hair falling across his forehead. "No, Mr. Roulette, never. Never. I've been figuring out how to pay you."

I grind my teeth as I take another inhale. "You came to me empty-handed tonight?"

He shakes his head again. "No. I have something. I have something real good. You'll like it."

"What could you possibly offer me? I have everything but your life, Patrick."

He pushes his hands in his hoodie's pockets and begins to rock on his feet.

When he doesn't say anything, I become agitated. I grip him by his disgusting hoodie and bring him so close to my face, that he can smell and taste the smoke rolling from my lips. "Don't waste my fucking time. Get on with it." I shake him for good measure.

He flinches. "My sister! My sister, Mae."

I let go of him and laugh. James catches on and begins to cackle too. I shake my finger at Patrick. "What the fuck would I want with your sister? Get me my money, Patrick. You have a week."

"No! No, wait. Look. Look at her." He pulls his phone from his pocket and taps the screen, turning it so I can see her picture.

My heart stops. My eyes zero in.

She's nothing like Patrick.

She's beautiful with long brown hair and tan skin. Her eyes are light, like the greens of the ocean on a sunny day. Her smile captivates me.

"And how do you think Mae will pay your debts?" The longer I continue to stare at her, the more I realize she's mine. Now that I know about her, nothing will stop me from taking her.

"She's a virgin. She's never been with anyone before. She's pretty, right? I mean, I'm her only living relative, so I can use her, right? I can pay off my debts and be done?"

Poor girl.

She has no idea how much her life is about to change.

A virgin. I'll be the only man she'll ever have, the only one she'll ever touch, the only cock she'll ever take.

This. Her.

She is the piece I've been missing.

"I'll even bring her to you, Mr. Roulette."

I shake my head and send the picture to myself, my phone vibrating letting me know the image has been received. "No. Give me the location. I'll get her myself."

Mae has no idea how much her life has changed, but she's just cured my craving.