Page 12

Valeria

T he game went smoothly. Players were funny, slightly drunk, and willing to lose money.

Nervousness quickly left me, seeing no one paid much attention to me.

They wanted full glasses of alcohol and a great view of young, half-naked girls.

The room changed into a strip bar in no time, and for the last half an hour, I was sitting behind the table, waiting for them to return.

But seven men were preoccupied with naked butts and roulette.

I watched Zyon talking with one player who didn't introduce himself, but others knew him. During the game, he was anxious, like he was scared to play. He folded almost every hand, and it crossed my mind that he might not have money for high-stakes poker.

Looking at him talking with the boss, I realized their conversation was intense.

The unknown man often ran his hand through his tousled, dirty-blond hair; he was turning from side to side, checking if someone could hear them, and one time, he grabbed Zyon's arm like he was trying to stop him from leaving.

"Count the chips, Valeria," Malin said from behind me, startling me. He smirked and placed a blank paper and pen on the table. "Write the numbers here."

I stared at his broad back when he turned to leave, thinking how the fuck did he get behind me without me noticing it. He was like a ghost—an incredibly creepy, scary shadow feeding on people's fear .

"Your husband wanted to join the game," Zyon said, sitting on his spot beside me. I raised my head from his chips. He interrupted me right in the middle of counting, and I lifted an eyebrow at him with an annoyed grimace. "Why are you working if he has three hundred thousand to use just for fun?"

Blinking in confusion, his handsome face blurred, and I felt dizzy. I didn't have a clue Chester had that kind of money at his disposal, not to mention that he could afford to lose it.

"That's none of your business," I mumbled, focusing on the chips, but he took my wrist gently, stopping my movements.

"Is everything okay between you two?" he asked, his almost-black eyes searching my face. My heart clenched painfully, and butterflies woke up in my stomach. The effect he had on me was insane.

"We’re great," I answered, fighting to sound clear and confident. I didn't want him to think of me as some damsel in distress who needed him to save her. I could win my battles alone.

"Okay." He let go of my wrist, leaving coldness and a weird emptiness behind. "But if something changes—"

"What would you do, Mr. Zhumagulov?" I snapped, challenging him again. His eyebrows slightly furrowed, and he leaned into his seat, watching me closely. His scrutinizing gaze was making me nervous.

"I would help you, Valeria," he replied eventually, ignoring the buzzing of his phone on the table. He turned the screen down, giving me all his attention. "All you have to do is ask."

The opportunity was presented to me on the silver platter, but the words stuck in my throat.

Zyon could make me disappear. He could free me of my husband.

But was I prepared for the demands he would present in exchange?

He wouldn't do it from the goodness of his heart, and I didn't want to run away from one lunatic to another. I wanted to be free.

However, it was a perfect chance to execute my plan. The one that would grant me freedom and enough money to start a new life somewhere else .

"Can we talk in private?" I whispered, and he leaned closer so abruptly I flinched away, startled. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were swirling with something hard to identify. Was it anger or frustration mixed with doubts? I didn't know, but the intensity of his look surprised me.

"Finish this, and we'll meet in my office, okay?" he suggested. I agreed with a slight nod but didn't move, and he didn't leave either. We just sat behind the poker table, our eyes glued to each other.

My mouth was dry, my heart hammered in my chest, and I felt the strong urge to taste his tempting lips and forget about everything and everyone.

I often fantasized about him and his blazing look, but it was nothing compared to reality.

Passion and desire were burning in his dark orbs, melting my defenses and will to even start with my plan.

"Zyon!"

We both cringed when Malin shouted at his brother from the other side of the room and burst our little bubble. He waved at Zyon to join him, and I watched him stand up, feeling lost in the swirl of emotion this moment caused.

"Finish this, Valeria," he said gently, and with one last look, he followed his brother outside.

I inhaled deeply, realizing all muscles in my body were tightened and my insides quivered. Fear mixed with the thrill of the unknown overcame my every cell.

In some odd way, I felt like I was cheating on my husband with a man who never inappropriately touched me, yet I craved him. I wanted Zyon to pull me into his arms, to tear my clothes off and fuck me senseless. I yearned to feel him, smell him. I needed him to quench this hunger for him.

What the hell was wrong with me? What, for the Christ's sake, was happening to me?

I quickly finished my task, wrote the numbers on the paper, and brought it to the cash desk. I put away cards, turned off the shuffle machine, and checked the lights. With one last look around, I turned to leave, almost bumping into a security guy who appeared out of nowhere right in front of me.

"Mr. Zhumagulov expects you in his office," he announced, and I swallowed hard, following him down the dark hall and up the stairs .

My heels clicked on the concrete floor. The surroundings were creepy, and shivers ran down my spine from cold and nervousness.

We reached the door at the end of the long corridor, and the security guy knocked and opened the door instantly when a voice called out to come in.

I entered the small room, which was furnished only by an oak desk with a laptop and lamp, two brown armchairs, and a bar with a few whiskey bottles.

On my left side was one shelf full of files and papers, and next to it was a couch and a tiny glass coffee table covered with papers and magazines.

The space was like an archive, and Zyon, seated behind the table, reading something on his phone, was like a handsome guardian of his family's dirty secrets.

"Leave us," Zyon commanded in a firm voice, putting his phone away and standing up.

The bodyguard closed the door, and we stayed alone in the small room with only a desk between us.

I almost giggled at the thought that it was like a scene from some cheap porn movie where I would end up bending over every piece of furniture, and he would fuck me until I wouldn't be able to walk.

I was crazy. Officially, and undoubtedly, I was slowly losing my mind.

"What can I do for you, Valeria?" he asked, disturbing the flow of my wild fantasies.

He walked around the table and stood before me, his expression emotionless and posture tense.

Standing so close to him, I realized he was taller and bigger than I remembered.

His broad chest rose and fell in an even rhythm, and his expensive cologne, assumably the latest Versace, tingled in my nose.

"I saw the news today," I declared, turning my back on him and putting some distance between us because my determination to continue was crumbling down. "Adam Rivers is dead."

"Is he?" Zyon growled, making the tiny hair on my entire body stand up. It was a nearly animalistic sound. I looked at him, my knees shaking. The insane glint returned into his dark eyes, and his expression was deadly. It was as if I were talking to someone else.

"Y-yes," I stammered, mentally rolling my eyes at my weakness. "His wife and father are gone, too. "

"And?" He raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest, flames dancing in his irises. He didn't blink or move; he just glared at me, almost setting me on fire. Somehow, we both knew what I wanted, but it was me who had to say the words.

"What would the police say about your interrogating session in Adam's casino?" I inquired, doing my best to sound confident. "Would they consider it a lead to solving three murders?"

"Murders?" he echoed and chuckled darkly, moving toward the table. "What are you trying to say, Valeria?"

"Adam stole your money," I started, lifting my chin and staring directly into his eyes. "I told you where he might be. Your men found him and burned the place down. Case closed."

"That's a serious accusation," Zyon said, eyeing me up and down. "Do you have any proof of those claims?"

I almost shrunk under his disgusted look. My stomach sank when I realized it wasn't the anger I had seen a few moments ago. It was disappointment. For some reason, he was saddened and displeased by my words. Clearly, he expected something else from this conversation.

"My testimony would be enough for the investigation to take a different turn," I replied, sitting on the couch and crossing my legs. "Do you want to risk it?"

"Are you blackmailing me, Mrs. Kellerman?" he asked, and I gulped, hearing that strong, dangerous word. I didn't want to think about its meaning and its consequences.

"I'm simply stating the facts, Mr. Zhumagulov," I shrugged, digging my nails into my thigh to ease the tension in my body. "And my silence has a price."

"I'm surprised, Valeria," he sighed, rubbing his eyes and shaking his head.

"You just accused me of three murders, and still, you dare to blackmail me.

" He straightened to his full height, placing his hands on his hips.

"Do you wish to see your husband's head on a spike in front of your daughter's school? "

Pure fright cut through my heart like a sharp knife, but I couldn't go back. I had already started this game and wouldn't stop until I got what I came for .

"I recorded a video that will be sent to the police if something accidental happens to us," I retorted, returning his hard stare. I was prepared for his threats.

"And what will you do if I kidnap your daughter, huh?" He lifted an eyebrow at me and smirked when I flinched a little. I would kill him with my bare hands if he touched Zara, but I couldn't tell him that. Instead, I responded as calmly as possible.

"Even in your line of work, there are some rules, Mr. Zhumagulov. You won't touch my child!"

"Do I look like someone who follows the rules?" he raised his voice, coming dangerously close to me. The only thing missing was the gun pointed at my head.

"Don't try to scare me. Thanks to the rules, your organization is blooming.

" I stood up, mirroring his stance and holding his fiery look.

I was afraid of him. He could bury me in the ground so deep no one would ever find me.

But what I dreaded the most was that I would have to spend the rest of my life with Chester.

"Would you bet your life on it?” he snarled, squinting his eyes. “Would you gamble with your existence to confirm your presumption?"

Well, I had no choice but to follow my instincts. My survival depended on it.