Page 9 of Ace of Hearts

Rose

May

Las Vegas, USA

I’ve never wanted to hit someone so much in my life.

Levi gives the crowd a proud smile, the very picture of a devoted young lover, and in a flash, I imagine myself flooring him with a punch right in the mouth.

As though reading my thoughts, he tightens his grip on my fingers to tell me to behave myself.

He planned all this right from the start, the bastard.

I remain silent and avoid looking at the cameras. I’m not a good actor. I know how to lie, and I can hide my feelings from people. But playing a role is entirely different.

“Sorry, but we’ve had a long flight,” says Levi, picking up my suitcase like a true gentleman. “We need to rest, don’t we ...” He says something in Russian that I don’t understand.

I have no idea what he’s just called me. I fight the urge to knee him in the groin as he gazes at me in adoration.

Oh, I’m going to kill him .

What’s got into him, exactly? This wasn’t in my contract!

He keeps his grip on my hand as we make our way to the entrance, and it hits me: he’s trying to hide the fact that there’s no ring on my finger!

Has he been planning this sham engagement from the start?

Or is this some kind of impromptu punishment for something I’ve done?

He trapped me into this moment, knowing I couldn’t call him out in front of all those people.

But he has no idea whom he’s dealing with.

I stay calm as we rejoin Thomas in the hotel foyer. He raises an eyebrow in surprise and annoyance when he sees us holding hands, but he doesn’t say anything, just gives us the keys. Levi pockets them and tells Thomas to meet us in an hour.

My blood’s boiling. I can feel people looking at us, and that’s the only thing keeping me from exploding. We get into the lift, and I try to look normal. As soon as the doors close behind us, it’s Levi who lets go first, as though my hand were burning him.

I grab his shirt collar and push him back against the wall of the lift.

“ Cazzo! ” I shout in Italian. Fuck! “What’s your problem?” I hiss, furious, my face a few centimeters from his.

He remains impassive, as though he’d anticipated I’d react exactly like this. He just blinks at me with those beautiful lashes of his. Despite his apparent calm, he clearly doesn’t like my tone.

“I don’t particularly like being touched. Let me go,” he orders curtly. “Now.”

“And I don’t like people taking me for an idiot. I guess we’ll both just have to deal with it.”

His smile has completely disappeared now, replaced by an icy stare. He’s handsome and terrifying at the same time. I probably shouldn’t get on the wrong side of a man like this, but my pride won’t let me back down.

All he says is, “Walls have ears.”

The lift doors open, and he quickly yanks on my wrist to make me release his shirt. He then smooths it down with a nonchalant gesture and walks out into the corridor, without checking to see if I’m following.

I don’t bother to stop and appreciate the beauty of the corridor, or even the suite—a suite?

—once we’re inside. I just cross my arms and stand in the middle of the room by the pool table, waiting for an explanation.

Levi takes his time, dropping onto a purple velvet sofa with a little sigh.

He runs his hand through his dark hair, exposing his forehead for a second, and undoes his tie.

“This little lie is part of my plan to weaken Tito,” he explains finally. “I want to make him think he’s going to win, that I’m gradually losing interest in poker, so he’ll let his guard down.”

At least the lie was part of a plan, not just a way of annoying me ... but “little” lie? Really? This is marriage we’re talking about! Where I come from, marriage is sacred. I’d like to up and leave this minute, to punish him for tricking me, but the call of his money is too strong.

Instead, I ask, “What do you mean?”

Levi looks up with a smile that could only be described as devilish. It’s almost enough to make me tremble.

“Tito knows me. He knows I’ll never give up, not after I’ve sworn to beat him one day. The only thing that could possibly distract me from my objective is love,” he adds, tapping his heart with two tattooed fingers.

This takes me by surprise. He wants to convince Tito and everyone else that love is distracting him from poker? That he’s resting on his laurels and has lost the drive to win?

It’s a far-fetched plan, but a smart one.

Levi crosses his long legs and gives me a meaningful look. “Men are weak, Rose. You’ll be my weakness.”

“I never agreed to this kind of masquerade. Besides, we’re not engaged. We hardly even know each other.”

He smiles maliciously at that. “We’re in Las Vegas, Rose. Everything’s possible.”

This man is mad. Much madder than I thought. What the hell have I got myself into?

“I’m not going to marry you.”

He waves his hand as if to dismiss what I’ve said and replies as though stating the obvious. “Of course you’re not. It’s just a cover.”

Am I really considering doing this? Pretending to be engaged will be a lot more work than what he initially described. I’m not an actor. More importantly, the game he’s proposing is a dangerous one. Especially when played with a man like this.

On the other hand ... this gives me the perfect excuse to make more demands. And it’s only for six weeks.

“I don’t even know what you do for a living,” I say. “You could be part of the Russian mafia for all I know.”

He rolls his eyes and answers casually, “What a cliché. I’m the owner of a nightclub in Russia. The Rasputin. Happy now?”

I’m actually astonished by this revelation. He owns a nightclub? On top of the poker playing. He must really be loaded. I can’t give up at the first setback.

“OK, I’ll do it. But I want more money.”

“Naturally.” He explains that he’s reserved a suite so we’ll each have our privacy, but people will assume we’re sharing a bed.

I can’t believe I’m doing this ...

“We don’t even need to see each other when I’m not training. We don’t even need to like each other.”

Message received, loud and clear. I agree and ask if fun-sized Thor is going to be staying in the room next to our suite.

“No. Thomas will be staying here with us. Somebody else is staying in the next room.”

I raise a questioning eyebrow.

“Guess,” he says.

I can hardly believe it. “Tito?”

He just smiles even more widely, as if laughing at a silent joke.

I don’t get where he’s going with this. Taking the suite next to Tito’s room is risky.

That’s too close. One false move and he could realize what we’re up to.

I don’t know what Levi’s got in mind, but this all seems too complicated to me. I’ve had enough for today.

“Levi.”

He looks at me, listening.

I say very seriously, “The next time you blindside me like that, you’ll get my fist in your face.”

His silence is cold and dangerous. I hold his gaze to show I mean business. I need him to know I hate being taken for a ride: I’m his ally, not his employee. I’m his equal or I’m nothing.

Not expecting a reply, I take my suitcase and start climbing the floating staircase to pick out a bedroom. Just as I reach the top, his cool voice floats up the stairs.

“Seeing as we’re in the business of making threats ...”

I turn and see his eyes fixed on me, his face unsettlingly calm.

“You’d better not ever grab me again like you did in the lift.” His tone is icy.

Silence falls between us. Who does he think I am? Thomas? Does he think I’m going to fall in line and obey just because he’s paying me? If so, he’s got some surprises coming. I smile at him and keep on walking.

“Then you had better behave yourself, Levi Ivanovich.”

The suite is amazing.

My bed’s enormous, with a mattress so soft I’m afraid I won’t want to get out of it in the morning. Levi’s room is on the ground floor near the big bathroom, which has a Jacuzzi and a Roman shower.

It’s the ultimate luxury, yet I feel a pang of melancholy at the thought that I’m traveling yet again.

Despite the adventures I’m having and the luxurious places I’m staying, I miss having a normal life.

I haven’t got any furniture of my own, or special sheets I’ve chosen myself, or plants .

.. I’d like to hang my favorite paintings on the walls somewhere, but that’s impossible.

It’s as if I don’t own a thing. It’s exhausting.

I tour the suite without once bumping into Levi. I take a shower, then curl up on the sofa, my feet on the table, a glass of wine in hand. The calm doesn’t last as long as I’d like.

“I see you’ve made yourself at home.”

I don’t need to look up: I can tell from the harsh accent that Thomas has just barged in.

He’ll be frowning, as always, and looking condescending, as always.

A person doesn’t have to be a mind reader to see he thinks he’s better than everyone else.

Under different circumstances, we might’ve been friends.

“I found this in the fridge,” I say, raising my glass.

“It’s midday.”

“It’s six o’clock somewhere.”

He stands right in front of me, blue eyes glaring. He’s got an unusual face. Attractive in his way, but mainly he looks terrifying. He tells me Levi’s waiting for me in the foyer. I ask why.

“To work—that’s what you’re paid for, isn’t it? The tournament starts tomorrow.”

I gulp down the rest of my wine, put my glass down on the low table, and stand up. Still feeling stifled by the heat of the desert, I leave my jacket behind and follow Thomas out of the suite. I ask him why he’s staying with us.

“So I can watch your every move.”

That’s it. My patience runs out, and I turn to him, arms crossed.

“What exactly is your problem with me?”

He doesn’t hesitate for a second. Speaking coldly and collectedly, as though he’s been waiting for this moment all morning, he says, “You’re mercenary, capricious, bad tempered, selfish, dishonest, and manipulative. I know this because I am too.”

Whoa. Is he sweet-talking me? Such flattery! And we’ve only known each other twenty-four hours! He ain’t seen nothing yet, poor guy. I smile approvingly.

“Bravo. You’ve understood more about me in one day than my old shrink did in six years. What’s your point?”

“Levi is the brother I never had,” he says as the lift doors open on the ground floor. “I’d do anything for him, but he’s got very bad taste in women. He’s an idiot, not to put too fine a point on it. And this isn’t a great time for him to find a new way to destroy himself.”

I point to my chest, as if to say, Who, me? but he ignores me beautifully.

“So find some other sucker to prey on, if that’s what you’re looking for.”

I ignore him because I don’t give a damn what he thinks of me, and go join Levi over by the entrance.

Thomas disappears, who knows where, probably a dark corner somewhere to pour out his angst into his diary.

I bet he was one of those emo teenagers who used to write depressive poetry on Tumblr in 2010. My worst nightmare.

“Where’s he gone?” I ask Levi, who’s staring at my left hand. He doesn’t take my hand in his; he simply pretends to touch my back with his hand to guide me forward, but never actually touches me.

“Thomas has other things on his plate,” he says, then changes the subject. “The lack of a ring could be a problem.”

True, that could raise a few eyebrows. But buying engagement rings would be taking the joke too far. Still, I lower my sunglasses and tell him, “Just in case you’re serious, diamonds are my favorite.”

“Good to know.”

We cross the foyer, passing the Roman statue in the middle. I nearly suffocate when the outside air hits us in burning waves. I love the sun. I’m Italian, so I’m used to it. But this is something else. The air is so hot and dry, I can barely breathe.

Levi takes us to the swimming pool—one of six at the hotel, according to him—and I whistle my admiration at the classical décor: columns, statues, and sculptures inspired by Greco-Roman art.

I gaze longingly at the huge domed cupola and the fountains. What I wouldn’t give to dive into the cool water. I make a mental note to buy myself a swimsuit ASAP.

“By the way,” I say, “what was it you called me earlier?”

Levi gives me a puzzled look as we sit down on a pair of deck chairs. He takes off his shoes and socks, exposing slim, elegant ankles. Somehow, I get the impression he takes care of himself. It’s sexy.

“You called me something, in Russian I guess, in front of the cameras.”

“Oh.” He says the word again. It sounds like lyubimaya. “It means my love .”

I force myself not to visibly react, but I can’t stop a little shiver from running through me. The word is pretty. It sounds so natural coming out of his mouth too. I think back to Thomas’s words in the lift. “I’d do anything for him, but he’s got very bad taste in women.”

And yet, Levi doesn’t seem particularly interested in me. He seems like a man so completely taken up with his rivalries that he’s otherwise emotionally absent. He might look like the perfect gentleman, but I can’t imagine him taking care of a woman—or another man, for that matter.

“What should I call you? The same thing?”

He moves a little wooden table so that it’s between our two deck chairs and pulls a pack of cards out of his shirt pocket.

“Levi will do.”

Like I said, not interested.

“We’re here to work,” he reminds me.

“And I’m taking my role very seriously. If I’m meant to be madly in love with you, I’m not going to call you Levi, just like everyone else. It’s boring and unoriginal. Using an affectionate name in Russian is more intimate. It shows I’m interested in my lover’s background.”

He finally looks at me, seemingly blasé.

I hold his gaze, still serious. I don’t know myself what game I’m playing, and I’m probably going to get my fingers burned doing it, but I press on regardless, like I always do.

Because apparently, I flirt when I’m bored, specifically with people I hate or who make me jealous.

He deals the cards, then softly says something that sounds like lyubimiy. “It’s the same thing, but for a man.”

I close my eyes and repeat the word over and over so I won’t forget it. After about the sixth time, I notice Levi looking at me. His face is still impassive, but his eyes are different. I raise an eyebrow. He looks away, and it’s as if I only imagined it.

“Let’s get down to work.”