“Matteo, but everyone calls me Lucky,” he said, slipping his hands into his suit pants pockets.
“Why do they call you Lucky?”
“I suppose because I’m lucky, ma’am.”
A bit of amusement rose in me. “Nice to meet you, Lucky. I’m Elena, but you probably already know who I am, considering you’re my babysitter and all.”
He laughed a slightly uncomfortable laugh.
I flicked the TV on and got settled on the couch. For twenty minutes, I watched the news and sipped my drink, with the intermittent commotion from outside and the electro beat pulsing through the ceiling. Nico better be confident his gaming hall wouldn’t be busted while I sat in his office. Though, it wasn’t exactly a real worry of mine. An FBI agent showed up to his parties; I was sure he had the rest of the force in his pocket.
I sighed. Lucky had only been quietly standing by the door like the good Made Man in training he was. I grabbed a pack of cards off the coffee table and turned the box in my hands.
“Lucky, would you like to play cards with me?”
“Oh, well,”—he ran a hand across the back of his neck—“I’m no Ace.”
My brows knitted, unsure of what he meant. “I just thought cards would be a good alternative to us both dying of boredom.”
He chuckled. “Um . . .”
“Or are you not allowed to?” How strict was my fiancé with his men?
A corner of his lips lifted. “I’m only supposed to look in your direction when you speak to me.”
I guess that answers that . . .
With a sigh, he said, “One game.”
He didn’t sound so sure, and I hesitated because I didn’t want to get him in trouble. But he was already walking to the couch, and the truth was, I didn’t want to sit in silence any longer.
“Are you related to Nico?” I asked.
“Cousin,” he said. “My papà was his papà’s brother.”
Lucky was taller than me, but he was lean and wiry. Still a boy. I wondered what Nico was like at Lucky’s age. Probably still bossy and used to getting his way.
Poker was the game of choice, and when I told Lucky we didn’t have to play for money, he looked at me like I was crazy. I laughed. What a little Russo in the making.
So I played poker with this teen boy and bet money I didn’t have.
I lost.
I used to play often. Nonna had a taste for the game, and sometimes when my mamma got a hankering for “family night” we all got together and played.
“Lucky,” I said, rearranging my cards, “how did your aunt die?”
“Caterina?” He frowned. “Drug overdose, I think. I was a baby at the time.”
I sighed. Yep, horrible person.
“Where is Nico tonight?” I was 99 percent sure he wouldn’t tell me, but that still left a 1 percent possibility. When his shoulders tensed slightly, alarm ran through me.
“I don’t know,” he said eventually.
“Yes, you do,” I accused.
He glanced at me with wide eyes. “Well, I do, but I’m not going to tell you.”
“Why not?” I pretended to be taken aback.
“Because Ace would have my ass if I talked business with you.”
“How would he know?”
He only shook his head.
“Fine.” I set my cards on the coffee table and then stood.
“Where are you going?” His tone wavered.
“I think I’ll go dancing upstairs.”
He shot to his feet. “No—wait.”
I halted in front of the door with my back to him.
“James is in the hall and you won’t get past him,” he said.
“But it would look bad that I got past you, wouldn’t it?”
Three seconds passed.
“Fine.” It was a little boy growl.
A smile pulled on my lips.
“He’s dealing with the man that knocked up your sister.”
I went still, took a deep breath, and then headed straight for the minibar.
“You lost again.”
One game had turned into three, and Lucky was either lucky or I was just bad.
I sighed and tossed my cards on the coffee table, watching some scatter to the floor. I was on my third drink and my head felt the effects.
Nico had been gone for almost two hours and the worry gnawed at me. He told me I shouldn’t trust him, so how could I trust the promise he’d made me about Ryan?
“That’s two grand now,” Lucky said, smug.
I groaned in my mind. Russo boys were just as bad as Russo men.
“Two grand, huh?” The voice carried a dark edge.
Lucky shot to his feet for the third time that night. “Boss—”
“Enough.”
The kid shut his mouth.
Nico’s focus was on me as he walked into the room. Self-assurance seemed to brew under his skin, like he’d gone for a run and instead of perspiring, he sweat cool confidence. His mood was electric and affecting me like a contagion in the air.
“Get the fuck out, Lucky.” Nico’s voice held a sharp note as he unbuttoned his suit jacket. His cousin headed toward the door. “Leave your post again and I swear you’ll be unable to leave your bed for a week.”
Lucky said, “Yes, boss,” before shutting the door behind him.
“Is there a reason my men don’t do what they’re told when you’re around?”
“Maybe you need to ask nicely,” I said, biting my cheek to hide my amusement. “A please never killed anyone, you know.”
“I suppose not.” His gaze sparked with dark amusement. “It seems to be your favorite word under certain circumstances.”
I sucked in a breath as warmth rushed to my cheeks. The blush spread throughout my entire body, and to distract myself from it, I changed the subject.
“I lost two thousand.” My tone was unapologetic, like I did this all the time.
Nico tugged on his tie, a smile pulling on his lips. “You didn’t lose anything. He cheated you.”
I paused. “How do you know that?”
“Because I taught him how, that’s why.”
Lucky, my ass.
“He would’ve won without the cheating,” I admitted with a sigh. “I have a terrible poker face.”