Old Money Roulette: Complete Trilogy

by Natalie Bennett

  His golden eyes kept me rooted in place. I was clueless and felt severely disadvantaged because of it.

  “I don’t even know what that is. What the hell does that have to do with your name on my father’s estate and my car being torn apart?”

  “Well, it was found in your car. Under the passenger seat, ironically enough.”

  “I’ve never seen that before. I’ve never even met your dad. I–––.”

  “Don’t you think I already know all of that? Give me some credit. The problem, Elena, is that someone close to you wants to get to me and you’re their pawn. I’ve known from the beginning something was off about this whole situation we were in. Though I have to admit that this, was a bit…unexpected.”

  My brain told me to shut the fuck up and think carefully before I responded but my mouth was already moving.

  “I was going to use you. You were my in to find Eva. I-I needed someone with connections and power and you were right there. I thought you would eventually trust me enough to help. I didn’t have anything to do with whatever that book is.”

  Too late to take back a word of my confession I waited with bated breath for his reaction. I knew none of that sounded good, but it was the truth. I’d never seen his book or that money until now.

  “You were going to use me?” He asked quietly. “That’s very ambitious of you, but no one uses me Elena.”

  He moved again, returning behind his desk. He pulled open a drawer and removed a white box with a blue ribbon on top of it. “This wasn’t supposed to happen this way. The book has nothing to do with the game, but seeing as we’re here already we might as well get the ball rolling,” he began, “Trust takes years to build, you never had mine.”

  I stood awkwardly, clutching the manila folder, unsure what to do with the clusterfuck in front of me. “What game?” I finally asked.

  “You want to be my enemy, and that isn’t a place anyone with a brain wants to be. I have a better idea. I’m going to make you my whore––exclusively. You’re going to take my last name. Then we’re going to play a game.”

  “You want to play a game?”

  “No, we will play a game,” he corrected.

  “And then what happens?” I had no intention of being his whore or taking his last name. I definitely had no intention of playing whatever game he was talking about.

  “If you make it to the end, I’ll tell you where your sister is. Better yet––I’ll show you where your sister is. I’ll also consider not leveling your father’s estate and building a playground in its place.” He smiled, waiting for my response.

  “What…game?” I struggled to get out, processing everything he’d just said.

  “Old Money Roulette, of course.”

  “You said that was a myth.”

  “Did I?” He rubbed his stubble, “I lied.”

  “You’ve known where my sister was this entire time? You knew she wasn’t dead? You–––”

  “Now before you get ahead of yourself, no I didn’t set up the hit on your aunt. That was sloppy and one thing I don’t do is sloppy. As for your sister, of course I knew she wasn’t buried. I’m the one who paid for the funeral.”

  “What?”

  He waved my question off. “All that can be explained later.”

  “How do I know you’re not lying now? That my sister isn’t dead?

  “For starters, I’ve never lied to you about anything other than the game. And lastly, I give you my word I will take you to see her.”

  My mind raced, uncertainties and what-ifs coming at me from all angles. Then, I remembered how he described this game to me.

  Murder, seduction, and manipulation.

  I was the worst possible candidate for this. I didn’t commit murder, and I was half unstable as it was. “I can’t play,” I shook my head. “I’m not a killer.”

  “Oh, but you will be.”

  Needing a minute, I strolled to a plush chair across from his desk and sat down. I stared at the wooden surface, seeing him on top of me in that very place less than twenty-four hours prior.

  When I looked back at him, he had a knowing smirk on his face.

  “I hate you,” I muttered.

  “No, amada, that’s not true. While you were busy being a pawn, I was busy making you fall in love.”

  He stepped closer, tugging the manila envelope from my fingers and placing the white box on my lap.

  “We can discuss this later, I need to finish my meeting.” He tossed the folder down on his desk. “I’ll be back, my queen,” he intoned, kissing my cheek. Then, he stroked the top of my head as if I were a dog, and left, shutting the door with a click.

  I exhaled a shaky breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Looking down at my lap, I tore the ribbon off the box and lifted the top off.

  “What am I supposed to do with this?” I questioned the empty room.

  Inside was a beautiful, special made card.

  It rested in a small glass frame that was cushioned by dope and none other than shiny, round polished diamonds.

  It was a deep blue with a diamond in the center. I knew exactly what it represented. The queen of diamonds–me personified as a game piece. Four Q’s with little crowns framed the centerpiece. I looked for a note that would explain some miraculous alternative as to why he gave it to me but there was nothing, only a small white tag attached to one of the polished stones

  There were two words sprawled in elaborate font.

  Game on.

  Table of Contents

  Playlist

  Blurb

  King Of Hearts

  Prelude

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  King Of Hearts

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Playlist

  Camila Cabello-Consequences

  Cruel Youth-I Don’t Love You

  Rihanna-Love Without Tragedy

  Banks-Trainwreck

  Lana Del Rey-Diet Mountain Dew

  Bea Miller-Like That

  Cruel Youth-Hatefuck

  Aria Hennesy-Where Did The Love Go

  Daughtry-What About Now

  Grey, Avril-Wings Clipped

  Halestorm-Love/Hate Heartbreak

  Daughter-Burn It Down

  Rain Paris-Memory

  Lana Del Rey-Cherry

  Three Days Grace- I Hate Everything

  The Neighborhood-A Little Death

  Zella Day-Ace Of Hearts

  Rayla-Boys Like You

  Aquilo-Silent Movies

  NF-Mansion

  Jutes-Cocaine Cinderella

  Emile Sande-Sweet Architect

  Migos-Narcos

  Rihanna-Rehab

  Kendrick Lamar-Keisha’s Song

  Lana Del Rey-Heroin

  Jhene Aiko-To Love & Die

  Cruel Youth-Diamond Days

  Lorde-Royals

  P!nk-Just Give Me a Reason

  The Neighborhood-Scary Love

  Meg Myers-Numb

  Marina and the Diamonds-Lies

  Demi Lovato-Daddy Issues

  Sam Smith-The Thrill Of It All

  Halestorm-Familiar Taste Of Poison

  Lana Del Rey-Video Games

  B0RNS-American Money

  Eminem-No Love

  Banks-Drowning

  Cardi B-I Like It

  Kiesza-What Is Love

  Sam Smith-Stay With Me

  The Civil Wars-Poison & Wine

  5FDP-
When The Seasons Change

  5SOS-Youngblood

  Rihanna-Fool In Love

  Drake-Headlines

  Camila Cabello-Something’s Gotta Give

  Christina Aguilera-Fall In Line

  Pharell,Camila-Sangria Wine

  Jennifer Lopez, Cardi B-Dinero

  Drake-Nice For What

  Lana Del Rey-Florida Kilos

  Bahari-Fucked Up

  Whissell-Get Free

  Adele-Love In The Dark

  Post Malone-I Fall Apart

  Blurb

  Sex. Violence. Betrayal.

  His secrets. Her sanity

  The road to hell...

  Well, there is no road to hell.

  I already live there.

  I was forced to partake in a rigged game of seduction, manipulation, and murder.

  Mateo Remmington is my formidable opponent.

  He makes the devil look like a saint.

  He’s immoral.

  He's ruthless.

  He's a goddamn king.

  King of a clandestine empire who sits on a throne covered in innocents’ blood.

  I’ve become his obsession.

  He’s becoming my deadly addiction.

  And if I make one wrong move, he’ll end my life.

  King Of Hearts

  Part 1

  It means that I am not the Samaritan

  That I’m not the priest or the Levite

  That I am the ill intent

  Who set upon the traveler on a road

  That he should not have been on.

  –Wilson Fisk–

  Old Money Roulette: Book Two

  Prelude

  It wasn’t hard to conjure up the memory of what made me choose this path. Some things just stayed with you no matter how much time had passed.

  I could still hear the mocking laughter in the voice mail.

  I remembered the torrential downpour falling from the starless sky when I went to collect the body.

  I saw the uneven jagged suture in the shape of an X going across her abdomen, and the wriggling white maggots hungrily feasting on the rotten trimmings.

  The coroner said she was still alive when the box blade split her wide open.

  I prayed she was unconscious when her son was stolen from her body.

  And I hoped to God, even though I no longer had the right to rely on him for a damn thing, that she’d taken her last breath before he failed to take his first.

  Flickering candles sent shadows dancing across the empty pews surrounding me. I waited on Father Franco’s sixth sense to kick in and let him know I was there.

  I was perfectly fine with the solitude. It gave me time alone with my thoughts; something I rarely had an opportunity to take advantage of.

  Staring up at Jesus’ deeply sorrowed frown, I took a sip from my silver flask in honor of their memory, swallowing the liquor down like a bitter pill of acid, relishing the burn.

  Today marked the anniversary of a deeply personal tragedy, and this was my way of mourning.

  I’d never had the simple luxury of breaking down or succumbing to my baser emotions. My hate, hurt, and rage were simply scraps of substance that fed the morally bankrupt beast constantly foaming at the mouth inside me.

  From the age of fourteen, I was fluent in the art of not giving a fuck, being sadistically cruel, and knowing sometimes I would have to make tough choices for a better result. That’s just the way things worked in mas alto.

  There was always someone lurking in the shadows, waiting to exploit a weakness in hopes that you would break down, giving them the opportunity to take what others had worked so hard to achieve.

  If I stumbled, I had to be prepared for my empire to crumble. That was unacceptable. As was the situation someone had recently tried to force me into.

  One phone call confirmed everything I’d already known.

  My Elena was meant to be used as a pawn in a game she knew nothing about, cast into the raging sea of my world and left to sink or swim.

  Unfortunately for the other player, I had a life vest on hand and my own agenda for her.

  I’d been working the same angle for years, knowing my delayed gratification would be well worth it. No weapon formed against me would ever fucking prosper, unless I was the one to wield it. Ace was about to receive a very rude awakening in the not so distant future.

  Capping the flask, I tucked it back in my inner suit pocket just as Father Franco wordlessly made his way down the aisle and sat on the pew beside me.

  He knew me well, knew all the losses I’d locked away, all the lives I’d heartlessly taken, and the joy those temporary moments of playing god brought me.

  When he finally spoke, it was with the years of aged wisdom always evident in his voice.

  “What is it you wish to have forgiven?”

  This was how he always started off our conversations, and he always got the same response.

  Today, I came for something different.

  “I didn’t come here in search of forgiveness for the things I’ve done, Father. I came seeking absolution for the all things I’m about to do.”

  He silently shifted beside me, settling in and preparing himself for my confessions.

  Chapter One

  They say our lives are a direct result of the choices we make, that those choices define us.

  I don’t believe that.

  I believe it is the commitment to our choices that distinguishes who we are. Every action we make has an equal and opposite reaction, a consequence of some sort.

  With my hands still clasped around the box that held the framed queen of diamonds, I stared down at it and knew it was mine.

  One little card represented my sudden position in a game I had no desire of playing—but didn’t have the option of opting out. It was like Jumanji…the wealthy and corrupted edition.

  When I thought of the scheme I’d come up with to find Eva, this wasn’t exactly where I saw myself ending up.

  The plan I came to town with fell apart the second I let Mateo bend me over that dingy bathroom sink and slide himself inside me.

  Everything between us from that moment was sudden, unexpected, and all consuming. I got lost in all our sordid moments that never should have meant as much as they did.

  I over indulged on the sound of his heartbeat and the warmth of his skin.

  And regardless of what was happening in my life right this moment, regardless of my conflicted feelings, I was mature enough to accept full responsibility for my actions.

  No one had held a gun to my head and made me choose this. I was a willing victim of his seduction; my greatest mistake was being blind to the web he’d been weaving around me.

  I looked around the pristine, masculine home office I’d been left in, noticing that the sound of voices could no longer be heard through the thick double doors.

  Considering Mateo’s ‘business’ ventures, I doubted whatever was being discussed was on the up and up or meant for my ears.

  Thinking over everything that had occurred the last few weeks, and all the ways my life had changed—and would continue to change—had a typhoon of emotions swirling around in my chest.

  My gaze settled on the gorgeous panoramic view beyond the outside patio.

  In the distance, there was the hilltop peppered with trees. The ocean’s glimmering blue water lay beyond.

  Closer was a large wrap-around terrace and an enticing in-ground pool that flowed into a hot-tub. There was a certain peace and tranquility about it all.

  Gently setting the box on my lap, careful not to spill any of the dope or diamonds resting beneath the picture frame, I snapped my clutch open and pulled out my cellphone.

  What now? I asked myself, staring down at the black screen.

  As if the universe had heard my silent plea, my cell pinged twice, and Peyton’s name flashed across the screen

  Peyton: We were told to leave. U ok?

  Peyton: Wth is going on? Do I need to kick his ass?
>
  I laughed, tapping the phone against my lips. What was I supposed to tell him?

  Physically, I was fine. For how long was debatable.

  It was my emotions that were stuck in a tumultuous tail-spin.

  I’d been through worse than this before; the faint scars on my wrists were proof of that. But I’d never cared about someone like I did Mateo, and it was affecting everything.

  My eyes shifted to the black leather book that had supposedly been found beneath the seat in what was left of my PT Cruiser.

  I hadn’t lied when I told Mateo I’d never seen it before. I wasn’t about to admit that I’d heard of it.

  Nothing about it jumped out at me. It was the size of a composition and just as plain.

  He said people died for this thing.

  He said a whore shot his father before stealing it, and the bundles of bloodstained cash sitting haphazardly beside it.

  As my mind replayed his words, I processed them for the first time.

  A whore shot his father, stole the book, and stacks of cash. That couldn’t have anything to do with my sister. Unless…

  Knowing what his definition of a whore would be gave me pause. The part of me that hoped Eva would return to her old self, that prayed it was still inside her somewhere, said she would never do something so reckless.

  Common sense begged to differ.

  Blood money, kilos, and corrupted men were a lethal combination.

  It was a nauseating thought that made a little too much sense, and I realized how long I’d chosen to live in denial. That explained her funds for the clothes, the jewelry…and the cocaine.

  For her to sleep with Mateo’s father and steal from him, though…that was a suicide mission. I just couldn’t fathom her truly being that stupid.

  Had I known what, or whom, the book belonged to, I would have never so carelessly encouraged her to steal it.

  No one screwed with the Remmingtons and lived to tell about it—Mateo especially. That was an unwritten and sacred law in Vice City.

  But what else could he have meant? And what was really in the book that was worth killing for?

  Questions piled upon more questions as my brain worked overtime trying to find answers I didn’t have. The urge to look inside the book was compulsive. I couldn’t resist knowing what secrets it held.