Page 5 of The Lyon’s Last Gamble (The Lyon’s Den Connected World #80)
S tanding in front of the blue building that housed the Lyon’s Den, Christopher realized he had seen it before. He’d walked by it many times. However, the building was so unassuming, he had no idea it housed such a business. He thought it was just another establishment. It could have been personal or business. He’d never given it a second thought.
Until now.
Now his heart was nearly pounding out of his chest at the thought that in the next few minutes his life was going to change.
And no matter what, there was no going back.
He sent a quick prayer up to God to let the change be for the good.
The last thing he wanted to do was to head back to Scotland with his tail between his legs. Hell, if he failed at this, he didn’t ken if he would ever return home. He couldn’t face his brother as an even bigger failure than he had been when he left.
He pulled the watch from his pocket and glanced at the face. 5:59. He lifted his hand to knock, and the door swung open, a huge, burly man stood there on the other side assessing him.
Clearing his throat, he said, “I’ve an invitation for six.” He held out the invitation. The bouncer ignored the paper, but stepped aside, allowing him entry.
Odd. It was as if the man kenned exactly who he was.
Once through the door, the inside of the den came alive. As quiet as the building was from the street, inside it was a completely different story. He shrugged out of his overcoat and handed it to the coat check.
“If you would like a drink, the bar is open. There is a smoking room if you would like to enjoy a cigar before your game begins. We will collect you when it is time.”
“Thank ye,” Christopher nodded and wandered further in, unsure if he wanted a drink or a smoke. Or both. Mayhap a cigar with a nice glass of smooth scotch.
The first thing he noticed as he wandered through the main floor was that this was not the type of gambling hell he was used to. Nay. Not at all. Firstly, there were no women roaming about. Secondly, the games being played were games he’d never seen before.
For some, cards were involved, for others…did that man have a scorpion crawling up his arm?
Christ. He’d never seen anything like this place. And he’d visited his share of seedy establishments. Though he couldn’t say this one was seedy. It was anything but.
It was very clean with gorgeous woodwork throughout. Security was aplenty. Almost every door was manned by a bouncer. He supposed that a place such as this would need to be heavy-handed to make sure things didn’t get out of control.
Making his way to the smoking room, he looked over the offerings and settled on a Cuban import. The end was clipped off and he lit it, taking a slow draw. The deep, rich taste paired well with the scotch he’d ordered while making his choice.
There were other men in the room. Some milled about and a couple sat at a table. They called him over to join them.
“Are you ready for what’s to come?” An older man, with hair graying at his temples asked. “Thomas Grey,” he announced after.
Christopher took a deep breath and wet his lips. “Christopher Campbell. I’m no’ sure if I’m ready, but time will tell, I suppose.”
“Ah, boys, we’ve got a Scot in our midst. We’ll need to watch for this one.” Grey jested.
“I dinna ken about that. We shall see.”
“Indeed, we will.” A man looking to be about the same age as Christopher spoke. His blue eyes narrowed as he assessed Christopher. “Not all of us can be winners. The odds are surely against our favor. Though I intend to be in the winning category.”
“You truly are an arrogant prick, Jensen,” Grey chided. He turned to Christopher. “Gary Jensen. You can ignore his dour mood. He really is always this miserable.”
Christopher looked at Jensen. The man oozed privilege and wealth. From his well-tailored suit to the tip of his Italian loafers. Christopher disliked him instantly. The way he looked down his nose at Christopher irked him.
“Good to ken,” Christopher quipped, dismissing the cad, and focusing his attention on Grey. “Have ye been here before? I’m curious as to what is to come.”
“Ah,” Grey chuckled. “I haven’t. Though I hear that one time is all you get, so best make the most of it.”
The Lyon’s Den was proving to be curiouser and curiouser.
“Interesting. I’m quite certain I saw a man letting a scorpion crawl up his arm earlier. I do hope that is no’ an entry task.”
“I’ve a feeling we aren’t going to know what game we will be playing until we are called. Whatever the results, it should make for an interesting evening.”
Jensen stood. “Gentlemen,” he said dismissively as he walked away and exited out of the room.
Christopher’s eyes tracked his retreat. “He seems a pleasant one,” he said snidely.
Grey belted out a laugh. “He’s a tightly wound one, that Jensen. Never happy. Always miserable. You must be new to London if you haven’t crossed paths before.”
Shrugging, Christopher puffed on his cigar, exhaling the smoke in rings that floated through the air. “I’ve been here for several weeks.”
“Is that all? And you’ve already received an invitation to the den? You must be something special.”
With a tilt of his head, he lifted his glass in a cheer. “Or just lucky.”
“Let’s hope that luck is running on our sides this night. If so, we should have an enjoyable evening, no matter what lies ahead.”
The cryptic way Grey spoke had Christopher second-guessing his decision to accept the invitation here. He absent-mindedly patted his waistcoat, where on the inside, tucked in the pocket was the deed to Colthrop Hall. What prompted him to bring it with him, he didn’t ken.
In reality, he couldn’t afford to lose another Campbell property. He’d done that when he gambled away the family’s prize-winning sheep. Thankfully, his brother was able to get them back before any harm was done to them, but he kenned it cost Alexander dearly.
The pain he felt at what he’d put Alexander through felt like it would never cease. It burned in his gut daily. That’s where the whisky came in. It helped him forget.
Forget that he was such a disappointment.
This was the night that he would fix that.