5. RADOMIR

Chapter 5

RADOMIR

The room explodes into chaos. Cards and chips scatter like hail, voices rising in a chaotic symphony of curses and accusations. My controlled kingdom is momentarily shattered, and I feel the itch of irritation crawling under my skin.

And in the center of it all, like a fiery-haired hurricane, stands Leigh Dalton.

She faces off with Mark, her stance defiant, shoulders squared, eyes blazing with fury. I can’t hear a damn word over the shouting patrons, my phone pressed to my ear as I bark instructions to Viktor and Dolph. But I see the tension crackling between father and daughter like a live wire.

Mark’s hand clamps down on her arm—too tight, too careless. My fists tighten involuntarily, a violent instinct surging to the surface. Don’t you fucking touch her like that.

I want to tear across the room, slam his face into the nearest poker table, and show him what happens when a man lays a hand on a woman like that—especially my woman. But I can’t move. Not yet. Angry patrons surround me, demanding either refunds or blood—probably both. I’ve called Judy Petrov—my ace in situations like this—but she isn’t here yet.

All I can do is watch Leigh face off with her father from afar.

Mark leans in, his expression a volatile mix of anger and desperation. I’ve always suspected there’s more to him than the pathetic gambler he pretends to be. Tonight, he confirms it. His grip tightens, and Leigh flinches. She tries to yank her arm away, but he holds on.

My jaw aches from clenching. When I get over there, Dalton, you’re a dead man.

“Radomir,” someone hisses at my side. “Are you listening? This is unacceptable—“

I force myself to turn, fixing the man with a glare that cuts him off mid-sentence. I deal with him quickly, just in time to hear Mark howl in pain.

I spin back. And there she is—the little red menace, holding a can of pepper spray like it’s a gun, her father staggering back, his face contorted in agony.

Mark stumbles forward, reaching blindly for her, but she sidesteps him with a speed that draws a reluctant smirk to my lips. When her father lunges again, she throws a punch that cracks against his jaw. I can see Leigh flinch as she flexes her hand, but the pain throbbing through her knuckles doesn’t slow her down.

A grin tugs at my lips despite myself. She’s chaos incarnate, a fiery-haired wrecking ball in the center of my storm. And I can’t look away.

I’m trying to decide if I feel furious for the mess she’s caused or utterly enthralled. Probably both, and that’s dangerous! I’ve only just met this woman, and already she’s awakening something primal inside me.

Leigh sprays Mark in the face again. My cock twitches, imagining all that fire writhing beneath me as I claim her over and over. I shove my lust-filled thoughts aside, focusing on the mess still to be cleaned up. My eyes land on four men caught cheating at my tables. While I have plants working the system and loading the houses, odds—those aren’t them. My men are rounding them up, dragging them toward the basement for interrogation.

“Boss!” Dolph catches my attention. He inclines his head toward the door.

I spin around to see Leigh bolting for the exit, weaving through the crowd like a fox slipping through hounds. Anger flares, hot and sharp—fucking slippery minx. But damn it, so does admiration.

I start to move toward her, but unlike her, it’s not as easy for me to slip past the furious patrons. And punching out my VIP guests in my rush to get to her wouldn’t be good for business.

Her fiery green eyes meet mine across the room as she reaches the door. Even in her defiance, a flicker of triumph shines in her gaze—a silent fuck you meant just for me.

I have a feeling this woman—this fiery, maddening woman—will either bring me endless delight or be the death of me. And I can’t decide which excites me more.

I push through the crowd, but Leigh spins and darts through the door—only to smack into my cousin, Gavriil.

“Grab her, Gavriil!” I bark, my patience fraying.

Gavriil glances at me, confused. Leigh takes the opportunity to slip past him.

By the time I shove through the crowd, she’s gone.

“For fuck’s sake, Gav,” I seethe at him. “Couldn’t you stop her?”

“Who?” Gavriil looks at me bewildered. “You told me to come here because you had some news and...” His eyes scan the room incredulously. “What the fuck happened here?”

“An angry, fiery-haired wrecking ball who just slipped right through your fingers,” I growl.

“Oh!” Gavriil’s eyes widen in realization. “That beautiful slip of a woman caused all this?” Admiration glimmers in the bastard’s eyes.

“You called boss,” Dolph says, appearing behind me.

I turn toward him and snap orders. “Let Temur and Gunner take the cheaters to the basement. Get Viktor to take Mark to my office.” I glare at Fredrik. “You two find Leigh Dalton. Bring her to my penthouse—no matter how long it takes.”

Fredrik hesitates. “Err, where do we start looking for her?"

Gavriil gives them an address.

I swing back around to glare at him.

“How the fuck would you know that?” I snap.

“I recognized her from the Ember Club,” he says coolly. “She’s not a dancer or singer, but my headliner Carla Craft’s daughters are best friends with your firecracker. First place I’d look is their apartment near the Golden Lights.”

“Then go!” I bark at Fredrik and Dolph.

The men nod and disappear. Relief flickers through me as Judy strides in, her sharp eyes sweeping over the chaos like a seasoned general surveying the battlefield.

“Jesus, Radomir,” Judy says. “What the hell happened?”

“A fiery-haired one-woman wrecking ball,” Gavriil answers, his amusement shining in his eyes.

“It was brought to the attention of the entire room that there were cheaters among the players,” I explain.

Judy frowns. “Our men are professionals.” She glances into the room. “Which one slipped up?”

“As it turns out,” I reply. “The men who were caught are not ours.” I nod toward Temur and Gunner dragging the four men out of the room. “I need this shit cleared up. You know what to do.”

Judy nods, frowning again. “How did the guests discover the cheating players?”

“The fiery-haired one-woman wrecking ball,” Gavriil repeats, and this time laughs.

“Shut the fuck up!” I hiss at my cousin.

Judy rolls her eyes and moves into action. I can leave, as I trust her to turn chaos into a gold mine—she always does.

“So, care to explain why your fiery little minx just turned this place upside down?” Gavriil grins, clearly enjoying himself far too much as we make our way to my office.

“I won her in a poker game,” I reply flatly. Gavriil halts mid-step, staring at me as though I’ve grown another head.

“Did I hear you right?” Gavriil looks at me in amazement. “You won her? How? Was she trying to win back a debt she owed you?”

“Her father put her up for collateral. Needless to say, I won. Now he gets his debts cleared, so he didn’t really lose,” I answer, shrugging.

No, but she sure as hell did!“ Gavriil quips, stoking the embers of guilt I’m already trying to extinguish. He shakes his head. “You’re lucky to have gotten off as lightly as you did. You know hell hath no fury and all that.” He raises and eyebrow. “And that woman was fucking furious.”

“Thanks,” I tell him. “Her diversion tactic worked in my favor.”

“How so?” Gavriil frowned curiously.

“The men she pointed out that were cheating weren’t my men,” I explain. “But that didn’t mean I still didn’t lose a small fortune thanks to the fiery-haired wrecking ball.”

“No!” Gavriil shakes his head and corrects me. “This isn’t her fault. It’s her father’s.”

“On that, we agree,” I tell him. “The man is certainly no contender for father of the year.”

“Wait!” Gavriil says. “Her father’s that grifter... Dalton, right?”

“Yes,” I confirm. “He’s waiting for us in my office. He’s the one with information about the Greek Matriarch.”

Suspicion darkens Gavriil’s eyes. “Did you manipulate the man into putting his daughter up as a bet?”

Fucking dick knows me too well. “It didn’t take much to get him to give her up.”

“Jesus, cousin,” Gavriil tells me. “I hope you know what you’re doing here.”

“Of course I do,” I snap at him. “I’m totally in control of the situation. Once I have Leigh back, my men will find her. I have even more leverage over Mark Dalton. And if he truly doesn’t care about his daughter. He still owes me a fortune as I haven’t cleared his debts yet.” My mouth lifts into a smile, thinking about Leigh. Dark desire coils deep in my gut as I determine what my little spitfire’s punishment for the chaos and running away is going to be. “While I have his daughter—I have more than just leverage—I have someone who knows his secrets.”

“So Leigh Dalton is just your latest amusement and leverage?” Gavriil looks disgusted.

“Exactly!” I snap, shoving down the nagging voice in my head that echoes Gavriil’s disgust far too loudly for my liking.

Walking into my office, we find Viktor corralling a very nervous Mark Dalton.

The man’s face is red and swollen, his eyes streaming with tears from the pepper spray. He stumbles into the chair across from my desk, muttering complaints under his breath.

“Jesus.” Gavriil looks at the state of Mark. “Did you run into a brick wall?”

“No, he was on the wrong end of a can of pepper spray and a left hook,” I reply on Mark’s behalf.

“The fiery-haired one-woman wrecking ball?” Gavriil looks at me for confirmation, and I nod. “Wow!” He whistles. “She’s going to be fun to have around.” He grins at me smugly, and I glare stonily back at him.

The memory of Leigh’s fiery exit twists something deep in me—anger, desire, or both. My cock twitches. My lips curl at the thought of her eventual surrender.