Ace of Hearts

by Gray, Khardine

  “Come on sweetheart, why no again?” he challenged.

  I smiled and released a sigh. “Do you really want to know?”

  “Oh yes… I would love to know why the woman of my dreams keeps turning me down.” He moved away from the bar, reached out and took a lock of my platinum hair, allowing the ends to curl around his finger then loosen.

  We both looked at my hair in his hands. I also took the chance to scan the distinct impression left on his ring finger from a wedding band. A wedding band indent that looked like it was very recently worn.

  Out of the corner of my eye I glanced my father coming down the stairs. I mentally groaned when I spotted Armand next to him. He looked over to me and frowned when he saw I wasn’t alone. I guessed I was going to have him to deal with tonight too. Unfortunately, despite my daily attempts to remind him of all the reasons why I would never go back to him he still kept trying and wouldn’t take no for an answer.

  It was fine, I didn’t mind reminding him that I had no intention of getting back together and if he had a problem with it he could take it up with my father.

  That would shut him up.

  The tactic would also get rid of Mr. Green Eyes too.

  I leaned forward and he thought I was going to kiss him. He actually moved in to me to receive the kiss but I slid closer to his ear.

  “I don’t think your wife would like that very much,” I told him, speaking just above the mellow jazz music that filtered over the casino floor.

  He pulled back. “My wife? I don’t have a wife.”

  I chuckled and stared him deeply in the eyes. “Your ring finger gives you away. I don’t hook up with married men.”

  The asshole smiled and gave me a purely sexual look. “What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her, and what happens in Vegas, stays there.”

  I shook my head in a cool calm manner and ran my fingers over his chest.

  “I don’t think so. I don’t like the idea of being a side piece, and my father taught me to be second to none.”

  “Your father?”

  I looked in the direction Pa had gone. He was walking past a roulette table and one of the croupiers was setting out the cards.

  The minute Pa looked over to me and nodded I waved and Mr. Green Eyes went rigid.

  I looked back to him and saw he wasn’t just rigid but he had the fear of God in his eyes.

  It was the reaction I got from most men who knew who my father was. Being the daughter of a mob boss had its perks when I wanted them. It got rid of people without further ado. Mostly, they didn’t want to end up dead.

  “My father.” I flicked my hand motioning over to Pa like it was nothing.

  “Ohh...” Mr. Green Eyes stuttered. “Giovanni Marchesi is your father?”

  Like I knew he would, Pa made his way over to me. One arm placed around my shoulder gave Mr. Green Eyes his answer.

  “Yes,” I replied with a smile.

  His breath hitched.

  “Everything okay here Bellezza?” Pa planted a kiss on my forehead and looked at Mr. Green Eyes who nodded slowly. He always gave me the traditional endearment bellezza either when he wanted to be subtle or make a point. Tonight he was being subtle for Mr. Green Eyes sake because he was a customer and Pa wasn’t sure yet if he was a threat to me or not.

  The scrutinized look Pa gave him told me he was definitely summing the guy up and his gaze landed on his ring finger also.

  Mr. Green Eyes noticed straightaway that Pa was looking at his finger and swallowed hard. “Yes. I mean, yes Sir. Everything is fine. I was just leaving.”

  Before either of us could say anything further he scurried away like a rat leaving us.

  Good.

  Now if I had liked him I wouldn’t have told him who I was. And, I suppose if I had been the kind of girl not to care about the sanctity of marriage I would have gone with him to wherever without another thought.

  “Jia, you know I don’t like you coming down here on the floor,” Pa chided.

  I looked up at him and he released me. “Pa, if you insist on me being here under this stupid persona of managing the place, then I’m coming down here.”

  The title he’d given me was floor manager, except I didn’t do anything.

  I didn’t have to do anything. It was an attempt to give me something that sounded important. I knew that all too well.

  He’d been doing it for the last few years. Just giving me things, giving me everything so I’d stay under his wing.

  As if I could leave.

  The only way I was leaving Vegas was if he said so.

  I wasn’t stupid, I knew the boundaries.

  But… mingling was my way of dealing.

  He pressed his lips together and furrowed his salt and pepper brows. When he did that he had that classic Italian look. What Ma called his Godfather face.

  I knew Pa was just being protective over me by keeping a tab on me. He didn’t want the same thing to happen to me as what happened to her.

  Lately though he’d been more protective and completely overbearing.

  “Are you still upset with me?” he asked.

  “Yes. But me floorwalking and mingling with the customers has nothing to do with how upset I am with you.”

  He frowned and looked over to Tony who was working the bar. The fact that I didn’t have his undivided attention pissed me off.

  Tony had been serving a customer but the minute he saw Pa looking at him he came over.

  “Sir can I get you anything?”

  “Vodka on the rocks after you serve that guy,” Pa answered

  Tony nodded and went away.

  Pa returned his attention to me, inclined his head to the side and gave me a stern look. “Jia, I don’t want you in Europe. That’s the answer.”

  Tears instantly stung the backs of my eyes. Up until then he hadn’t said no and he hadn’t said yes. Although not saying anything tended to mean he wanted to tell me no but found it hard to.

  “Pa, that’s not fair. I’ve worked so hard. You know that Europe was always my goal.”

  I wasn’t a floor manager, or any other title he wanted to give me. I was an artist. I’d graduated college three years ago with the goal to go to Europe. Italy was where my heart desired. Always was. I loved Tuscany and wanted to do my master’s at the Accademia delle Belle Arti Florence in Italy.

  Known for being home to legends like Michelangelo and Vasari it was undoubtedly one of the finest schools in Italy and absolutely where I’d seen myself.

  I had everything planned then he told me I couldn’t go yet. Back then it was yet. Now he was saying no.

  “I know… but sometimes we have to divert from the goal. I can’t have you running around Europe unprotected.”

  “Don’t you mean unwatched,” I said a little too loud, eliciting a few curious glances our way and his face hardened.

  “Jia, you watch your tone with me,” he said, holding up a finger. “Do not push me. Don’t push me and make me do something I’ll regret.” His gaze clung to mine showing the depth of his seriousness.

  The last time he did something he regretted was when he locked me away in my room for the whole summer. It was after Ma was killed. I was sixteen-years-old.

  It was then that I got the eye opener of the dark world I lived in.

  His enemies came into our home and killed her right in front of me. Right in front of him. He was a second too late to save her, but he saved me. The next bullet that came from his rival’s gun was meant for me. Pa killed him before that bullet got me.

  I tried to run away after the whole incident and Pa locked me away. He locked me away until the threat was eliminated. Whatever that meant.

  I’d taken it to mean that more people were coming and he’d dealt with it.

  Being sixteen and locked away in my tower of a room at our home was different to being twenty-six and locked away.

  I was a woman now.

  “Okay…” I answered, blinking out of my thoughts.


  He moved back. “We will discuss alternatives at a more convenient time. I have a meeting I have to attend. Don’t stay on the floor too late.”

  He moved away from me before I could answer. It was fine since I didn’t have an answer for him. There was no alternative to Europe for me.

  With his departure came Armand.

  He knew not to bother me when Pa was talking to me.

  At least, he knew not to talk to my breasts tonight.

  “Still trying to get him to agree?” he asked, running a hand through his jet black hair.

  “Yes. If you must know.”

  His gaze took me in with that usual admiration, scanning me from head to toe.

  “And the floor? Is that your way of finding some poor sap to flirt with to make me jealous?”

  I just stared at him, looking at him long and hard as I tried to figure him out.

  We’d been together for a year. To me he was the distraction Pa probably wanted and encouraged when he saw us together.

  A distraction however that blinded and blindsided me, because Armand couldn’t keep his pants on when it came to other women.

  “Get over yourself.”

  “Wish I could get over myself as quickly as you got over me.”

  I made a move to go but he caught my arm. Any other man would never be so bold as to touch me, and not like that, with his hand clamping down on mine in such a threatening way.

  He knew Pa had control over me and he knew he could get away with more than most. All that brown-nosing to be Pa’s right hand man did the trick.

  Pa wasn’t like most other mafia bosses. He didn’t follow the general traditions of La Cosa Nostra. He didn’t need to.

  Pa was the Vegas king. He owned half the hotels and casinos here including the one we stood in. The Grand Marchesi was named after our family and their influence all the way back to Italy. We were part of one of the biggest crime families known across the globe. Not people to trifle with, so Armand knew what it meant to grab me like this.

  And, he did it to make a show of what it meant for him.

  Armand here got lucky, because Pa liked him.

  He liked him and that meant he got away with a lot.

  I wrenched my arm free of his grasp however. I didn’t need this shit when I was already pissed.

  “Don’t touch me,” I warned.

  He just smiled. “You used to like being touched by me bellezza.”

  “Until you started touching other people.”

  “Oh, it was just the one time,” he lied. His green eyes darkened with the deceit he tried to sell me.

  “No, it wasn’t.”

  “Jia, you should stop this. It won’t do you any good. Just come back to me. I promise you’ll be the only woman in my bed this time.”

  “Bastardo.” I raised my hand and slapped him across his cheek. People looked on in shock but I didn’t care.

  That smile filled his face again, taunting me. “That’s okay, only a matter of time before you come back to me. Mark my words, you will be mine again.”

  “No, I won’t.”

  “We’ll see about that. If you resist, it’s like you say, I’ll take it up with your father.”

  “You asshole, what the hell does that mean?” I knew better than to gloss over the real meaning of his words. Armand didn’t say anything unless he meant to make some kind of mark or leave some lasting effect.

  “Well, it could mean I may not want my future wife floating around the floor with every man’s eyes on her tits and ass.”

  I sucked in a sharp breath. I was having difficulty processing what he’d said.

  Future wife?

  That was what he said, right?

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me Jia, now’s not the time to play dumb. You know how your family are very paternal. Men running the business. Your father had a daughter. I’m the closest thing he has to a son. Our families go back to Italy. You and me. Are you seeing the picture I’m painting yet?”

  “You bastard, I don’t want you…” That would finish me off. I wouldn’t be free. I already felt like a prisoner here.

  He reached for my face and ran a finger across my cheek.

  “Yet, I want you so badly.” He taunted.

  One more smile, accompanied by a wink and he moved away from me.

  I watched him walk down the path and in less than two seconds his eyes were glued to a dark-haired woman who started jumping up and down as her friend won some money. Her breasts were practically popping out of the extremely tight dress she wore.

  He looked at her, admiring her body, his eyes all over her, while my soul shivered. I couldn’t help but fear what his words meant and the ease with which he’d said them.

  I may have my say in a few things but ultimately Pa had the final word.

  There was only one thing I could do.

  Leave…

  I had to get out of here.

  I had to get away.

  I just didn’t know how…

  Chapter 3

  Xander

  Pain…

  Pain lanced through my head then worked its way down my damn spine like a skitter of electricity filled with burning heat.

  Shit….

  My head felt like it was going to fall off. There had only been one time in my life when I’d experienced such pain and that was when I was a marine. My men and I had been ambushed by a group of militants in Uzbekistan. It was one of my many missions. One memorable mission because three of us including me had been kidnapped.

  They used knockout gas to take us down. I got us out.

  As my eyes fluttered open and the bright overhead light beamed down on me I got the same sensation. That sensation of being trapped. Waking up and not knowing where the hell you were. Where you were and how you got to be where you were. It all took me now in one gulp.

  Then I remembered what happened.

  Someone had hit me with what I could only imagine was a metal bar. I remembered the force of the impact. It was like being hit with a baseball bat but harder.

  Someone hit me.

  Who?

  Who the fuck was it?

  And… my hands were bound behind me. Not with rope but metal. Handcuffs?

  I moved them and saw I was right. Handcuffs signaled cops.

  How had the cops found me?

  A door creaked open and footsteps sounded on the concrete floor.

  I rolled my head to the side.

  Who I saw coming toward me made my blood drain from my body and I stilled against the chair.

  Ethan Ranger. My old captain.

  How the hell had he found me? And, after so many years.

  I straightened and he simply stared back. Stared at me through his good eye. He wore a black patch over the other. It made it difficult to assess his expression.

  “How did you find me?” I asked. I knew I hadn’t slipped up. There was no way. I’d been too careful.

  “I expected a better greeting, Agent Cage,” he answered.

  “That’s not me anymore. How did you find me. It’s been five years.”

  Five years…Jesus.

  It sounded so weird saying it. I couldn’t believe so much time had passed.

  “Yes it has been five years and I would have believed you were dead if I hadn’t reconnoitered a call between you and Bernard Perabo.”

  Reconnoitered… so he spied.

  Yes, that would do the trick and fucking find me.

  When I was listed as living, I used to be was a part of the SMF— Special Missions Force. They were a secret intelligence agency who answered to the CIA.

  They were one of those sectors who existed to get shit done when it hit the fan. The kind of shit the government would deny if you were caught.

  Ethan had been the captain of my unit and was one of the senior leaders of the agency. Looked like he still was from the authoritative vibe he was exuding.

  “Don’t worry, Bernard got his chip and the money is already in your
account. I didn’t screw with that part,” Ethan spoke, cutting into my thoughts. “Xander, I need you for a black op mission. That is why I’m here.”

  I started laughing, not because what he’d said was funny. I laughed without humor and with a crude edge because I couldn’t believe he’d had to come seek me out. A dead man.

  “You need me? What? Nobody else qualified in the SMF?” I balked. This was a man I’d respected and I didn’t mean to be so abrasive. It was just that I didn’t have time for anything that would deviate from my plans.

  “Xander, the short answer is no. There is no one else qualified to do the job I need. I’ve believed for a long time that you were alive and I’ve been looking for you. Your body was never found. There was whispers of Bernard working with The Shadow on the underground and I hoped it was you. Something has happened and you are possibly our only hope to contain the situation before it gets out of hand. It’s not just a national threat. It’s global.”

  I may have been out of the game for years, but hearing something was a global threat sent a shiver down my spine.

  Still… I was sure someone else could help him.

  “I’m on my own personal mission,” I answered.

  “Balthazar Kane?” He offered and I tensed at the name, biting down hard on my back teeth.

  That name…

  Balthazar Kane.

  He was the reason for the way I’d lived my life for the last five years.

  Hearing his name made me think of them.

  My team.

  And most of all I thought of her…

  Claire.

  She was always in my mind. Always there.

  Balthazar killed her right in front of me. A bullet to her head… gone just like that.

  The woman I loved.

  She was the reason why I’d lived the last five years of my life seeking vengeance. Seeking to kill that mad man who took her from me.

  I first came encountered Balthazar Kane when Ethan put my team on a mission to kill him on sight.

  He was no mere criminal.

  Being part of the global terrorist group called the Ra, Balthazar got him his own sweet section on the world’s most wanted list. Worse than belonging to the Ra was the fact that he was the leader of the Spades, a faction of the group. Anarchists, terrorists extremists, assassins. Think of the worst thing and they were it. They were the people who put plots in motion to exact national and global devastation.