Page 27 of Ace of Hearts

Rose

June

Las Vegas, USA

I haven’t felt this way in a long time. I’ve been worse, but I know this looks bad enough. I’m kicking myself for letting Levi see me like this.

I’d promised myself I’d never let him see the three-headed monster inside me. I thought I could do it. It would seem I overestimated myself. My mother was right—recovery is never permanent. If you drop your guard, if you tempt the devil, the illness returns.

“What happened?” Levi asks me in a voice that’s surprisingly gentle and patient.

He came looking for me. I guess my absence aroused his suspicions. And he’s right to be suspicious. I really am betraying him.

“Nothing. I wanted to play one game; that’s all. It was a mistake.”

My voice is no more than an exhausted whisper. I despise the weakness it betrays. Levi crouches in front of me, one knee on the ground, and takes my calf delicately in his hands. His skin is like silk on mine, his touch light as a feather.

“What’s this?” he says, pointing to the graze on my knee.

“I misjudged the height of the steps,” I admit, avoiding his intense gaze, ashamed.

I don’t add because I’m drunk , but I think he’s guessed as much. Levi doesn’t make fun of me. Instead, he bends down and blows gently on my broken skin. Even this little gesture is enough to make my spine tingle.

“Have you drunk any water today? Your lips are dry.”

“I’m fine.”

He’s still gazing at me, his face impassive. All the signs in his face tell me he’s angry, but his voice is soft, and the way he’s touching me shows he wants to be gentle.

“Let’s go.”

Abruptly, he slips one arm under my legs and another one under my shoulders and lifts me up with no effort at all. I’m about to protest, but he holds me close to his chest, and words fail me. What’s he playing at, exactly? Just because I have a little cut on my knee doesn’t mean I can’t walk.

I want to tell him this as we exit the stairwell, but for some reason I stay silent. Instead, I join my hands around his neck, surprised by his strength. His closeness calms me down. I feel ... protected. It’s not a feeling I have often, so I embrace it greedily.

When we come out into the foyer, I understand why he’s behaving so affectionately. My blood freezes when I see Li Mei, Thomas, and Lucky deep in conversation near the fountain. They break off as soon as they spot us.

“Was this really necessary?” I whisper into his neck.

He raises one eyebrow as though he doesn’t know what I mean. I’m about to explain when my eyes fall on Tito, standing with his arms crossed near the escalators. I stiffen, ill at ease. My father narrows his eyes and walks away.

I hide my pink cheeks against Levi’s T-shirt until we reach our suite.

There, he puts me down carefully on the sofa and fetches a first-aid kit from the bathroom.

He hands me a bottle of water, and I let him sit down on the coffee table opposite me; then I take off my shoe and put my foot up on his leg.

I don’t like the way my heart beats faster when he touches me. I wish I could slow it down, but I can’t. He disinfects the wound and puts a bandage on it, and I tremble every time his fingers brush my skin.

“It’s not as bad as all that,” I protest.

“I didn’t say it was,” he says simply.

When he’s finished, he puts the first-aid kit down next to him and takes my foot in his hands. His eyes devour me, full of questions that I’m sure he’s struggling not to ask.

I down half the bottle of water he gave me. I know that I never hydrate enough, but I’d forgotten that you can’t get away with that in Las Vegas. And alcohol doesn’t count.

“Li Mei told me you asked her to place bets for you.”

He certainly doesn’t waste any time . I sigh inwardly. Of course, that sneak ratted on me! The truth is, I don’t resent her for it. She agreed to help me without asking anything in return, and the minute she couldn’t do what I asked, I bit her head off.

I hate the person I become when I’m craving a game.

“I should never have come here,” I say.

That couldn’t be more true. Levi waits attentively, saying nothing and giving me space to go on. But should I? Of course I shouldn’t. But ... I want to talk to someone about it, anyone. In my heart, I know he’ll understand. That he won’t judge me. He might even be able to tell me what to do.

“In Macau, you asked what my poison was, remember? Well, this is it,” I say with a sad smile. Fuck, I really want to smoke right now. The idea makes me laugh inside, and I add, “Or I should say, it’s one of my poisons. Because one addiction usually leads to others.”

I see him connecting the dots in his mind.

Gambling, alcohol, cigarettes ... I’m completely broken.

My mother always tells me I’m too young to say something like that.

My father says I’m weak-minded, and that I get that from my mother.

Ever since my recovery, he hasn’t let me go near a casino.

I embarrass him in front of his friends.

“You’re addicted to gambling?” Levi murmurs, with no trace of judgment in his voice.

I nod. He asks me how long this has been going on. Now that I’ve started confiding in him, I can’t stop.

“I started playing when I was a teenager, with my ... mentor. More for fun than anything else. But when I turned eighteen, I celebrated by going to a casino for the first time.” I smile at the thought of that memorable evening.

“At first, it was fun. I don’t know exactly when it started to get out of control.

Falling into addiction is a bit like falling in love; you don’t realize what’s happening until it’s too late. ”

His silence is strangely comforting. He makes me want to tell him everything, to reveal more of myself, and God knows that’s risky.

“You realized that with your talent, you could get rich,” he says quietly.

“Exactly. Before I knew it, I was caught in the spiral. I spent all my time playing, either in casinos or online. I had no more social life. To be honest ... it’s why I dropped out of school.

I lied before. I never managed to finish anything.

I was skipping my college classes, wasn’t sleeping at night—all so I could spend more time gambling. ”

Memories float to the surface of my mind, and I confront them bitterly. I remember the adrenaline, the feeling that I was all-powerful, then the disappointment whenever I lost all the money I’d won. “I’ll win it all back,” I’d tell myself every time. “I just need to bet twice as much!”

The classic vicious circle.

“I used to steal money from my parents when I had none left to bet,” I admit, hanging my head.

“Or sometimes I’d borrow it from other people.

My mother looked at my computer and discovered my online gambling habit.

She and my father did everything they could: changed my passwords, took away my money and hid theirs, confiscated my computer, grounded me, everything. ”

“And that didn’t work?”

I bite my lip, laughing softly. If only it were that simple. Addiction can overcome any obstacle. It always finds a way of getting what it wants, even if that involves taking extreme measures.

“When I discovered my father had changed all the passwords on the computer so I couldn’t play, we had a huge fight.

He and my mother were about to go somewhere, to visit my aunt, I think.

They got in the car and told me we’d talk about it that evening.

I thought they were abandoning me, so I .

.. I threw myself into the road in front of the car and said they weren’t going anywhere, that they’d have to run me over.

“I realize as I say this how messed up it is. How sick I was back then. I could think of nothing but gambling. After that day, my mother made me get help. I agreed to do it because even I could see that things were going wrong, and I had no control over the situation.

“It took time and a lot of relapses, but I managed it. Now, a few years down the line, I’m in recovery. But it’s a fragile recovery. Picture a dandelion in the wind. And today the wind was too strong for me.”

“The debts you mentioned ... are they because of this?”

I nod. He sighs deeply, gazing into the distance. I can’t tell what he’s thinking. Is he disappointed? Not that I’m interested. I don’t care what he thinks of me.

At least ... I wish I didn’t. But deep down, I know I do. I want him to think well of me. I want him to think I’m beautiful, intelligent, talented, funny, and wonderful. I want his attention. Not just anyone’s attention— his .

“But . . . you’re fine now?”

“Would you ask that of an ex-alcoholic who’d got a job as a wine merchant?”

He grimaces at the irony of the situation. “Rose, I’m sorry ...”

I ask him why, surprised by this admission. This time I hold his gaze. His expression is guilty and sincere. He sighs again and looks away, shaking his head.

“I was the one who asked you to come. I don’t regret it, but ... if I’d known, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“Really?” I say teasingly, not believing him.

“What do you think?”

“I think there’s nothing you wouldn’t do to win the tournament and humiliate Tito. Other people’s problems aren’t your problem.”

He looks at me without saying anything for a long time. He knows I’m right. I’m starting to know him. We share a selfishness that turns us both into lost children. I’m not judging him. Far from it. I know I’d have done the same.

Levi lowers my foot back to the floor and rests his elbows on his knees, giving me a piercing look. I’ve obviously touched a sore spot.

“That’s true. But there’s a difference. I’ve seen the damage addiction can do. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone ... So yes, I’m sorry.”

Oh. I fold my legs underneath me on the sofa, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. I’ve just handed him the perfect weapon with which to destroy me. But then again, I know his biggest secret. We’re even now.

“Are you talking about yourself?” I ask.

He shakes his head and stares into the distance. “My father.”