Page 2

Around eleven o'clock, when the registration for the tournament was almost closed, I noticed a man coming to my table. The casino's bright lights and golden decor often blinded me, so I didn't see his face. Only when he stood just a couple of feet away from me could I take him in.

He was dressed in a simple red shirt and blue jeans with white sneakers, yet he looked like he didn't belong there.

Many people around me wore casual clothes, but they looked like bad advertisements compared to him.

The shirt hugged his muscled chest and shoulders tightly, leaving nothing to the imagination.

His right arm was tattooed to the last inch, and only his fingers stayed untouched.

A huge golden watch on his wrist screamed luxury, and a few expensive bracelets only confirmed he probably was in the wrong place. The big game was in the VIP lounge.

"Good evening," he said, flashing me a million-dollar smile.

I involuntarily sighed. He surely had this effect on every woman.

His face was exquisite with his perfectly chiseled jaw, covered in day-long stubble, high cheekbones, and big hazel eyes framed by long eyelashes.

A darker shade of his skin made the piercings in his ears shine, and the silver chain around his neck was just icing on the delicious cake.

He was total eye candy and every woman's fantasy.

"Hello." I smiled, doing my best to act professional, but he made it really tough. "How can I help you?"

I was still sure he had made a wrong turn and should be in a lounge when he handed me a small golden card indicating paid buy-in into the tournament.

"I need a place to sit," he replied, still giving me that irresistible grin that made my insides flutter.

"Table three, position seven," I stated without breathing, avoiding eye contact with him. He didn't say more and plopped on the chair right next to my table. I didn't realize the place was only two feet from me.

Nervously, I gathered all the golden cards, feeling like I was being watched, but when I looked around, no one paid attention to me.

The handsome stranger looked bored. He made tricks with chips, with his palm supporting his head, and watched TV in the opposite corner.

I felt weirdly disappointed that I didn't make as great a first impression as he did.

But I instantly almost slapped myself. I was a married woman with a child who had to solve her own problems first. Drooling over a good-looking man wasn't high on my list right now.

The music announced the end of the last level and a forty-minute break, and players scattered between the slot machines and live game tables. I stayed behind my counter, counting entries, when someone approached me, throwing shadows on my notes.

"Do you have time for a chat, Miss Redhead? "

I raised my head from the screen, staring at the tall figure towering over me.

I leaned into my seat, narrowing my eyes at him.

He was one massive, uniquely attractive man.

Over six feet of pure muscles, in combination with a charming smile and innocent look, made him irresistible.

However, I wasn't some thirteen-year-old schoolgirl.

"It's Mrs., and my name is Valeria," I corrected him, watching his smile widen.

"I'll take that as yes then, Valeria," he said, moving the chair to my table, turning it around and straddling it. He rested his arms on the backrest, his vast biceps flexing with every move.

"What can I do for you, Mr…" I lifted an eyebrow at him, and he took the hint.

"Dorian," he replied, stretching his hand in my direction, and I took it after a millisecond of hesitation. "Pleasure to meet you."

A weird tingle appeared in my chest, and I quickly retracted my palm, answering with a diplomatic, "Me, too."

He studied my face briefly before looking away, a small, mischievous smile dancing on his full lips.

"Do you like working here?" he asked, frowning at the black and golden dragons hanging from the ceilings. The casino owner was obsessed with cliches, yet the place was packed to the brim every day of the week. Customers loved this pompous, kitschy imitation of luxury.

"Yes, I like my job," I answered, staring into his hazel eyes longer than was polite. He was like a magnet to me. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious why an elegant, classy woman like you works in a desperate hole like this.” He wrinkled his nose in disgust, shrugging. "There are much better places which would pay more money to someone with your experience."

"It's not that bad." I smiled, thinking he was overreacting. Yes, some casinos were more successful or glamorous, but the salary was good, and we had zero problems with our customers .

"Then you haven’t experienced how a great working environment feels," he remarked, tilting his head to the side. "Don't settle for less than you're worth, Valeria." He flashed me another smile and stood up, ignoring my flabbergasted expression. "I need a beer."

I stared at his broad back as he leaned over the bar and said something to the waitress, my mind jumping from one thought to another while watching the waitress flirting with him.

"Valeria, please, we need you." Alice jogged to me as quickly as her high heels allowed her to. "There is a big game on the blackjack table."

"What?" I shook my head, removing the images of the Adonis who crashed my evening with his overwhelming presence and abruptly rising to my feet.

"Please, go there. Natalia is confused, and I need to correct my makeup and drink water. I'm dying there." She groaned in discomfort and disappeared behind the staff room door, not waiting for my response.

Armored with patience, I walked behind the corner where the live game tables were located, stopping right in front of the same man who stood at the bar just a second ago.

I frowned, eyeing him up and down. He wore a black button-up shirt without a tie and black jeans.

The watch on his wrist was the same, but the playful glint in his eyes from before was missing.

I opened my mouth to ask how the fuck he was able to change so quickly when someone grabbed my arm.

"Valeria, come with me." It was Travis, and before I could react, he dragged me to the side, his nervousness evident.

"That man," he pointed to the God who had seemingly stepped down from his pedestal to live amongst the common people, "is Malin Zhumagulov. He's here with his brother."

"Brother?" I echoed, looking at the direction he was pointing in. The different name suddenly made perfect sense. The one in the red shirt was still talking to the waitress.

"Yes, I'm sure you can see they're basically the same," Travis groaned, annoyed, bouncing on his feet. He was anxious about something. "The third one isn't here, but if he shows up, we’re screwed. "

"There is a third one?" I asked in evident shock, drifting my gaze between the two most handsome men I had ever seen. And I wasn't the only one. All the women in the casino were casting secret glances. The boys stuck out like a red Ferrari between white vans.

"Valeria, do you have any idea who the Zhumagulov brothers are?

" Travis inquired, his forehead wrinkled when I shook my head no.

"Oh, fuck," he sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"Let's hope you won't find out tonight." He took my arm and turned me to the right, exhaling heavily.

"Malin is playing thousand-dollar bets, and he's losing.

Please be professional and use your charm to soothe him a little. "

"Great," I mumbled as I moved to the table where Dorian joined his brother. They looked utterly alike and totally harmless, but I noticed nervous glances from Travis. My curiosity was eating me alive.

Who the hell were the Zhumagulov brothers?