Romance

FALLON
Mr. Presutti sighs heavily but answers; opening the door, I see his men walk through. I find red carpet and black painted walls, which I recognize immediately to match Verdigris—underground casino.
“Leone, no more of this, Mr. Pressutti; it will drive me crazy when you lose and become mine. As for your father, he will be fine. Now.” Leone motions for me to enter. Immediately, guards step out from the corners, and one seizes my arm.
“I’ll be down soon; I just have a few things to take care of and a few phone calls,” he tells me, then looks at the security guard inside the door. “Keep an eye on her until Milo or I return. No one is to go near her,” Leone tells his goons, and I look at him, only for him to smirk.
“Prepare yourself, Fallon. This isn’t your average Friday night poker at the Casino. The men down there,” he gestures behind me into the dark corridor. “Play for keeps. And 

FALLON
His words hang heavy, and I swallow back the retort clawing up my throat when he reaches a hand up to cup the side of my face. I want to slap his hand away, but I can’t afford a misstep. Not when the price is so steep. So, I smile instead. I know better than to poke a bear when I am in his cave.
“When I win, I never want to see your face again.” I pivot. The two men who were arguing are now fighting, one man narrowly missing me as the drunk man swings at him, and he steps out of reach. I’m yanked against a hard chest, my breath lodging in my throat, when a loud bang rings out. I jump at the sound, and deathly silence falls over the room, everyone’s attention drawn our way.
That’s when I notice the gun in Leone’s hand. The drunk man crumples to the ground, a bullet having found his head.
My entire body trembles against him. And I step back, seeing the man’s blood pool on the floor, streaming toward my feet. Leone holds me tighter as he turns his attention to the two men who led me down here.
“Clean this up, and get Mr Porter a drink,” Leone orders. Men rush forward, grabbing the dead man’s body, and servers fix the table and mess that has been made as if this were a common occurrence.
“Always a sore loser. Mr. Porter, I’m sorry about that. I’ll be questioning my men as to why he was allowed to participate tonight,” Leone answers the balding man in an expensive-looking suit. The man nods once, moving to another table when I notice two other men now flank him, having rushed over a little late.
“Not so confident now,” Leone whispers next to my ear. “But remember, Fallon, arrogance is a sin easily punished, as you just saw.”
My pulse thrums at his warning, a visceral reminder of the man’s capacity for cruelty. But fear isn’t a luxury I can indulge in—not now, not with so much on the line. “Go find Milo while I have this mess cleaned up.” Leone lets me go, and I step over the puddle of blood.
Moving through the room, I spot Milo in the distance. He waves me over, and I go to him but don’t see my father anywhere.
“Where is my father?”
“Safe for now, but if you want to win, you need to buy in,” he tells me.
“No shit Sherlock, but with what?” I ask him, and he drops the bag of my winnings from Verdigris at my feet.
I snatch the bag up and move to the booths at the back. I drop the bag on the counter, and the woman behind it takes it, passing it off to someone to count when I once again feel someone brush up against me. Only this time, instead of Leone, it is Milo.
“It’s already been counted; max out her tab,” he tells the woman, who nods once before handing over a tray with stacked chips. I move to grab it when I feel someone grip my ankle, making me jump and glance down. Milo kneels next to me, undoing the clasp of my heel.
“What are you doing?” I demand when the woman behind the counter drops a pair of flats on the counter. Milo reaches up, grabbing them, his eyes meeting mine briefly.
“I can do that myself,” I snap at him.
“If you think for one second I am going to let you bend over in that skirt with all these men around, you’re mistaken,” he snaps back at me. He takes the heel off, forcing me to grip his shoulder as I sway slightly. He massages the bottom of my foot for a second, and a sigh slips past my lips before I can stop it.
His eyes dart up to meet mine, a devilish smile slipping onto his face before he focuses on what he is doing. He removes the other heel, his hand sliding down my calf to my ankle as he lifts my foot, doing the same before slipping the flats onto my feet. Surprisingly, they fit perfectly, making me wonder how he knows my shoe size. I let that thought slip away, deciding I probably didn’t want to know.
“Thank you,” I mutter when he rises, passing my heels to the woman who places them under the counter.
“Thanks Jacinta,” Milo tells the woman, who nods, pushing the tray of chips toward me.
Grabbing it, I turn around to see Milo smirking down at me.
“Good luck, you’ll need it,” he laughs, sauntering off.
I reach the table, slipping into the player’s role as if it were my second skin. The click of chips and murmur of wagers become my world, and I play each hand with precision, my fingers a blur of motion as I take down each table, yet something nags at me. Why is there no one at the far back table that is on a podium? I find it odd as I sit down at the last table.
I am so close that I can almost taste victory when I spot Leone, who comes and stands beside me. My heart races with nerves and anticipation, knowing victory is within my grasp and that freedom comes down to this last game. But a nagging feeling in the pit of my stomach tells me that it won’t be that simple.
I push the thought aside and focus on the game before me. The two men opposite me are good players, but I’m determined to come out on top. I calculate my odds with each hand and continue to make moves, raking in more chips with each round. It’s all in the bluff.
Leone looms over me, his dark eyes never leaving the table. I can feel his intense heat burning into my back, almost suffocating me with its weight. But I refuse to let him intimidate me.
As the night progresses, tension fills the air, thick and palpable. The remaining two players at the table shift uneasily, their eyes darting between their cards and the towering figure of Leone beside me. It’s as if they can sense the invisible force that surrounds him, a force that has propelled him to become one of the most feared figures in the city.
Just before the final hand is dealt, my phone rings. The ringtone tells me it’s the hospital, and I scramble from my seat, looking for it only to remember Leone has my phone still. He arches an eyebrow at me. I grit my teeth, but he makes no move to retrieve my phone from inside his jacket pocket. The ringtone teases me, and after its fourth blaring ring, I know it’s going to go to voicemail. Before I realize what I am doing, my hand moves to his jacket.
He watches me dig through his pockets and I freeze momentarily, waiting for him to hit me for what I am doing. Instead, he seems amused, raising an eyebrow at me. “Top left one,” he says, and I move to the other side of his jacket to grab it; I answer it, pressing it to my ear.
“Hello?” I answer, my voice trembling with a mix of hope and apprehension while my eyes dart to Leone’s watchful gaze. Someone moves out of my periphery, but he shakes his head at them, warding them off.
“Fallon, we’ve tried your father, but you’re listed as Emma’s next contact,” a soothing voice says on the other end. It’s Dr. Stevens, the surgeon in charge of her case.
“Correct,” I reply.
“We’ve received some incredible news. A heart has become available for Emma.” I take a deep breath. I can’t believe this is happening, especially after this evening. Finally, some good news for Emma.
My heart skips, and I can hardly believe what I am hearing. The weight of years spent waiting for a transplant suddenly lifts off my shoulders, replaced by an overwhelming sense of gratitude and relief. I clutch the phone tighter, trying to steady my voice.
“That’s... That’s wonderful,” I reply, tears welling in my eyes. “But how long until the surgery?” And where the fuck am I going to come up with the money for it?
Dr. Stevens pauses for a moment before responding, his voice filled with empathy and understanding. “You need to settle the bill first, Fallon. I’ve tried to go to the board of directors, but..... We understand that it’s a significant sum that you and your family have been struggling with. Once we receive confirmation that it’s been taken care of or financial assistance has been provided, we can proceed with the surgery immediately.”
I swallow hard, my mind racing as I consider the cost that hangs over my head like a dark cloud. But this is my sister’s chance at a new life. I’ll have to find a way somehow. I turn away from Leone, emotions threatening to overwhelm me.
“Fallon, are you there?” Dr. Stevens asks.
“I’m still here,” I breathe out.

FALLON
“A game?” I ask. He nods once, glancing at the paperwork and handing it back to Milo.
“What do you want from me if I lose?” I demand, and my hands clench at my sides.
“Everything.” His answer is simple, yet it contains multitudes of possibilities. “If you lose, your father’s debts become your own—a lifetime of servitude within my establishment and home. And your father,” he pauses, letting the words hang heavy between us, “And your father dies.”
The blood in my veins turns to ice. “And if I win?”
Leone’s smile is a wolf before the pounce. “You’ll have completely cleared your family’s debt and saved your sister and father. A clean slate for the McCallisters. No strings attached.”
“And I’m expected to believe you’ll let us go?”
“Ah, but what other choice is there, cara mia? Rather than simply taking his life and ending it, I am granting you the chance to save him. I suggest you take

FALLON
Mr. Presutti sighs heavily but answers; opening the door, I see his men walk through. I find red carpet and black painted walls, which I recognize immediately to match Verdigris—underground casino.
“Leone, no more of this, Mr. Pressutti; it will drive me crazy when you lose and become mine. As for your father, he will be fine. Now.” Leone motions for me to enter. Immediately, guards step out from the corners, and one seizes my arm.
“I’ll be down soon; I just have a few things to take care of and a few phone calls,” he tells me, then looks at the security guard inside the door. “Keep an eye on her until Milo or I return. No one is to go near her,” Leone tells his goons, and I look at him, only for him to smirk.
“Prepare yourself, Fallon. This isn’t your average Friday night poker at the Casino. The men down there,” he gestures behind me into the dark corridor. “Play for keeps. And they’re not forgiving of mistakes, so don’t provoke them.”
“Neither am I,” I reply, the words laced 

11