Page 56 of Niccolo (Mafia Kings #7)

D espite Fausto’s serial killer threats, he came through with the money.

Shortly after I checked in at the El Dorado, the concierge let me know that they had received a wire transfer for one million euros.

“Would you like me to have a line of credit established for you in the casino?” he asked over my hotel room phone.

“No, I want you to wire it immediately to a bank,” I said, and gave him my account information in Italy.

The whole ‘wire it to the casino’ ploy had been a negotiating tactic – nothing more. I didn’t want Fausto promising to pay me, then weaseling out of it once I returned to Italy.

Plus, since I knew Fausto had been able to steal the Rosolini brothers’ money, I didn’t feel comfortable giving him my bank information.

And now that I had the money, there was no way I was gambling it away.

If things got really bad, I could always make a run for it.

A million euros would take me pretty far…

Although maybe not far enough to outrun my new boss.

After I freshened up, I went downstairs to the casino floor to wait.

I didn’t have to wait long.

I sat in the bar area near the poker tournament. The game was in full swing, with hundreds of players sitting around dozens of tables.

Part of me was irritated not to be playing in the tournament, but I reminded myself I was playing a bigger game. One with higher stakes and much more lucrative rewards.

I ordered a sandwich and a mocktail – no alcohol. After all, I had to stay sharp for what came next.

If it came at all.

In the end, there were no guarantees I was right about Niccolo’s reasons for coming to Hong Kong…

But if he didn’t show up, I was going to be incredibly disappointed.

I thought about how I should play the moment when we met.

Should I act surprised to see him?

If so, how surprised?

As I pondered what I should do, I remembered Fausto’s words:

He’ll see through your deceptions – so be careful.

In the end, I decided to not fake anything.

And I wouldn’t lie unless I absolutely had to… just in case Fausto was right.

By the time I finished my food and mandarin lime spritz, I saw Niccolo approaching through the crowded lobby.

He towered above the predominantly Asian crowd, so he was easy to spot.

He looked even more handsome than at the wedding. He wore a linen shirt open at the neck, exposing his olive skin. His hair was just as tousled and carefree as before, like he was a model who had just woken up for a fashion shoot.

I was more enticed by his intellect than his looks, but the fact that he was incredibly handsome didn’t hurt.

As soon as he saw me, he smirked –

While I just stared back at him with a bored expression.

He quirked one eyebrow in surprise like he hadn’t been expecting my reaction.

Good.

He strolled over to the table and stood before me.

Before he could get a word out, I said, “You’re late.”

He burst out laughing and gestured to the chair opposite me. “May I?”

“I don’t see anyone else I’ve been waiting for.”

He grinned and sat down. “You’re not surprised to see me.”

“No, I’m not.”

Amidst the noise of the casino, he had to lean over the table to be heard.

As a result, I caught a hint of his expensive cologne – a mix of sandalwood and musk.

I liked it more than I wanted to admit.

“So, is there a mole in our organization?” he asked. “Or does Fausto just have contacts in every private jet company from here to Timbuktu?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said coolly.

“You knew I was coming, so someone must have tipped you off. Either that or you have a very good poker face. In addition to having the loveliest face, period, that I’ve ever seen.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I said, although I secretly enjoyed the compliment.

“Maybe not, but I’m still going to try. Don’t you want to know how I figured it out, though – Sofia?” he said, emphasizing my real name as he spoke it for the first time.

I gave him my best theory.

“I mentioned I played chess when we met at the wedding. You assumed I’d given you a fake name, so you googled ‘Italian female chess players’ and saw my picture. How am I doing?”

“So far, so good.”

“Well, then, I’m sure you know all about my fall from grace and subsequent switch to poker. You probably checked tournament rosters of pre-registered players, including Macau, and… here we are.”

“Here we are,” he agreed. “But you left out the part where I deduced you’re Fausto’s consigliere.”

“Again, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He smirked. “You should just say ‘No comment’ and leave it at that. You’re not a very good liar.”

“I thought I had an amazing poker face.”

“I said ‘very good,’ not ‘amazing.’ But your voice is where you give it away.”

I gave him the tiniest bit of a smile and just sat there in silence.

“Ah – the silent treatment! Fast learner,” he joked. “I realized you were his consigliere because your choices are completely unlike anything my uncle would have done. I must compliment you: your strategic brilliance is astounding. Using the Turk the way you did – ”

He pressed the tips of his fingers to his lips in a chef’s kiss.

“Mwah. Marvelous. And Mezzasalma was even better. He failed to kill Adriano, but you still managed to convince the other families that we were to blame for the Agrellas. And the attempt on Dario! Did you choose Rachel Bauer, or did Fausto?”

I continued to sit there in silence.

“I’m betting the hit was your idea, but he was the one who found Rachel. Shadowy assassins are part of the world my uncle travels in, after all. But the bank scheme! Amazing! THAT was your idea, wasn’t it?”

More silence.

“I’m inclined to think Venice was Aurelio’s fuckup,” he continued.

“I mean, everything you accomplished – convincing the other families we’d gone rogue – gone.

Poof. Just like that. You would never make that mistake, and Fausto certainly wouldn’t.

So I’m assuming it was Aurelio getting out ahead of himself. Am I wrong?”

I said nothing, but Niccolo smiled like he’d gotten his answer. “So I’m not wrong. I can tell by the tiniest change in your expression. Your poker face is still very good… but not quite perfect.”

Whether he was speaking the truth or merely bluffing me, I didn’t know… but I refused to say anything.

“I just have one question for you, and I’d appreciate a verbal answer this time,” he said.

“You seem happy to talk enough for the both of us.”

“Well, I am a loquacious fellow,” he said with a grin –

And then his entire face went cold.

In the blink of an eye, it was like he was suddenly an entirely different person.

I’ll admit, the effect was unsettling.

“Were you the one who plotted my father’s murder?” he asked as he stared into my eyes.

I thought about not answering –

But I knew that if he even suspected I was behind his father’s death, there was a good chance I would never leave Hong Kong alive.

“No,” I said honestly. “That happened before I started working for Fausto.”

He stared deep into my eyes as though sifting my soul for the truth.

Finally, he nodded. “Alright… I believe you. And I appreciate the implicit acknowledgment that you’re Fausto’s consigliere.”

“Again – ”

“You have no idea what I’m talking about,” he said mockingly. “Of course, of course. I have to wonder, though… if you knew I was coming here… and you deduced that I would know where to find you… how much do you know about why Roberto and I are in Hong Kong?”

I went back to saying nothing.

“So we return to my first question: is there a mole, or just a lot of contacts in private jet companies?” he asked.

I stayed silent.

Niccolo stared at me for a moment longer, then smiled. “How about a little game?”

“Of what?”

He gestured towards the poker tables. “When in Rome…”

“We’re not in Rome.”

“And you’re too smart for that to be a funny joke,” he shot back. “I think – no, I know – that I can beat you in poker.”

“Is that so,” I said drily.

“It is. I’m betting – no pun intended – that you know all the stats. When you have a 12% chance at a flush… the odds of drawing a queen… that sort of thing. But you’re not better than me at reading people. I guarantee it.”

He’d hit on my biggest weakness as a player –

But I kept my expression inscrutable.

“You have no idea what I’m capable of,” I replied.

“After the last few weeks, I think I do. However, I’d like to see if you’re as unpredictable at poker as you are at gang warfare. So let’s play a few hands.”

“It’s too late to join the tournament.”

“I was thinking we’d get a private table, just you and me.”

“I don’t have any money to wager.”

Niccolo grinned. “Fausto still a cheap fucking bastard?”

I smiled the tiniest bit.

“Of course he is!” Niccolo said with a chuckle.

“At least, insofar as what he’s willing to pay others.

You’ll notice he wears the finest suits and drives around in his beloved Rolls-Royce – but he’ll nickel and dime anybody who does an ounce of work for him.

You know, he and my father used to argue all the time about what to pay our men.

Fausto thought we should use fear to keep them in line.

My father chose to be generous instead.”

Niccolo’s face went cold again.

“That is, until Fausto had him murdered,” he said.

A shiver ran down my spine.

It was the first time something like this had happened to me, so it was confusing–

But even though I was unsettled by Niccolo’s cold anger…

It turned me on a little bit, too.

“If you know Fausto’s a cheap bastard,” I replied, “then you know I have nothing to gamble with.”

I conveniently left out the wire transfer I’d just received.

Niccolo immediately turned cheerful again. “Well, that’s not entirely true. What about the 47,000 euros you won in San Remo?”

“You did your homework,” I said, mildly impressed.

“I always do my homework. But I’m not interested in your money. I have more than enough of that.”

“Not since yesterday,” I said in a deadpan voice.

Niccolo burst out laughing, then looked at me sideways as he waggled his finger, like Good one!

“Look at you. You didn’t want to admit to anything, but you’ve already confirmed you’re Fausto’s consigliere – AND that you know about the bank transfers.”

“Sometimes I just can’t pass up a good joke,” I said sardonically. “It’s a weakness of mine.”

“Yes, I’m sure. You seem like a woman who’s just ruled by your emotions.”

“And you seem like a man who uses yours as a weapon.”

He raised one eyebrow. “Touché. A point for Sofia.”

“I think you mean, ‘One more point for Sofia.’”

“Given all the points you’ve scored over the last 24 hours, you mean?” he asked with a smile.

I smiled back but didn’t say anything.

“Why not extend your winning streak, then? A few hands of poker – what do you say?”

“If we’re not playing for money, then what are the stakes?” I asked.

“Information. Whoever wins a hand gets to ask a question the other is obligated to answer.”

“Not interested.”

“Why not? Afraid you’ll lose?” he goaded me.

“You don’t have any information I want. It’s all upside for you and none for me.”

“Alright… then what do you want to play for?”

I thought for a second, then said, “We play until someone wins the entire pot. If I win, you get back on your plane and immediately fly home.”

“And if I win?”

“You can ask me one question – one – and I’ll answer truthfully.”

He laughed. “That’s not much of an incentive.”

“Take it or leave it.”

He gazed at me as he considered my proposition…

Then smiled. “You’re on.”