Queen of Hearts

I know.

“Tsk. Put your eyes back in your head.” His lip curls before he devours the rest of the baked treat the Queen of Hearts offered us with a smile while making herself right at home in her enemy’s lair. It was all just a game to her, a petty ruse, a way to rile me up and make me weak. This was a power play. And I was already the loser.

Elijah spends the remainder of the afternoon explaining how my office building was being watched, which means that there was someone on the inside who’d known that we had taken Rosalyn there first and not to one of the other interrogation spaces.

“I’ve got my men working on it and we’ll have the rat soon enough,” Elijah grinds out, and I know he’ll get the issue resolved. We had a traitor amongst us and it wasn’t the chaotic blonde singing loudly in my kitchen as she made something else. Something with cherries, as the dark sinful smell lingered around my house.

“I’ve found a new informant; they call themselves The Jabberwocky. They think they might be able to get us some valuable intel on The Cartel and their next moves.”

When Elijah doesn’t make any indication he’s joking, I chuckle and take a bite out of another muffin. “Well, we’ve got a Queen of Hearts in my kitchen and our business ventures come under the WunderLnd Corporation, so why the fuck not?”

Eli’s mouth pulls up into a shit eating grin. “Did you see the gossip columns last week? That reporter Staddon is out there calling the Volkov twins Tweedledumb and Tweedledee.”

He wasn’t the biggest fan of the Volkov twins after Anoushka had refused his charming offer to fuck, despite Alexi being more than eager to take his sister’s place.

Handing me a file, his face gets serious once again and he gives me a solemn expression. “One of our Captains is also reporting an increase in arrests, now normally if it was someone like Lawrence, then I’d say it’s a case of him not looking after his boys properly. But…”

“Who?” Lawrence was famous for blaming everyone but himself, and so if you got caught on a job or doing something a little shady, you were on your own until it was brought to my attention. Then it was my role, as either the head of The Family or as a practicing lawyer to fix it. If I couldn’t, we sent in Eli with less traditional methods.

“Nicco and I looked into it. The Judge sending them to the clink is Joseph Walters.”

“The one with the moustache? Who looks like a walrus?” I hated Judge Walters, he was always overly harsh with his sentencing and spoke to everyone beneath him like shit. It was all ironic, considering a little birdie told me his son was dying to become one of our club designated dealers. “He’s clearly got some sort of vendetta, do a little more digging.”

“Is that all?” I want to lay my head on my desk and sleep. It felt like everything was one good hard pull from unweaving, and the tapestry I’d dedicated my life to was about to become nothing but loose threads.

Standing, Eli stretches, obviously feeling as exhausted as I do, if not more since he actually had to do the grunt work. He shows me a series of messages from the manager at the gentleman’s club downtown. “The Top Hat have reported suspicious people from Aberfalls making enquiries about one of their dancers. Rich, entitled shitheads apparently. Claiming she’s family. They’ve been barred, but Lilith is concerned.”

I rub my temples and reach for another muffin, only stopping when Eli’s eyebrow arches. “Is she underage?”

“No.”

I get to my feet and escort him to the front door. “Then we tell them nothing. We protect our own, from the cleaners and dancers, to the assholes who sit at my table. Give her time off, fully paid, and set up extra security at the club.”

“Understood.” He pulls me into a quick hug, patting my back. “Are you sure you don’t need me to stay the night?”

He doesn’t think I can be trusted here alone with Rosie since she was obviously trying to escalate the situation between us, moving on from jerk-off sessions to something a little more hands on but Elijah couldn’t stop me if I decided to fuck Rosie, no one could. She was mine.

“I’ll be fine,” I say with a chuckle. I’m a grown man, a local celebrity, a hotshot lawyer, the head of a mafia organization and he was worried about what? My virtue? I’d never had any to begin with.

Shaking his head, he sighs, “No, you won’t.”

The second the front door clicks shut and I turn the lock, I know I’m in danger. I can feel it in my bones, this awareness of her. I try to head up the stairs without making a sound, creeping around in my own house but all the noise in the kitchen suddenly goes quiet.

“Julian? Are you running away from me?” she sings out, her accusatory tone carrying through the large empty building. All the staff had either retired for the day or left the property, meaning there was only the two of us once again.

“No, I’m just tired,” I say, taking another step. It wasn’t exactly a lie. It had been incredibly draining in my office with Eli. The problems were like weeds, and I was ripping them up, only to have two more sprout beneath my feet. I’m almost at the top of the stairs now, so close to being able to take a cold shower and get the image of her perfect pussy out of my head. It was hell having a woman I was supposed to hate, a woman who wanted to destroy me, taunting me in my home like I was her play-thing.

“Oh.” Is it my imagination or does she sound disappointed? Whatever it is, it doesn’t last long as her soft feminine voice teases, “Too tired to hear about my mole in your building?”

I pause. “I’m sorry…what?”

Is she lying to get my attention? No, she would just walk around naked for that. How did she get anyone past Elijah? All of our staff were either extensively vetted, or they were part of The Family, in which case they knew the punishment for betrayal. The Gambino’s were a bloody reminder that still shook our community, ten years later.

She’s standing in the doorway to my kitchen, with a mixing bowl against her hip, leaning against the frame as she watches me. The light coming from behind her means that the shirt is almost useless, the white fabric sheer as I can make out every curve of her silhouette.

Stirring her mixture, she licks the spatula before casually saying, “You aren’t the only one who sent spies over the years Jay. Let’s just say we both clearly like watching one another too much for it to be healthy.”

So that’s how she knew about White Rabbit and the supplier issues we were having, she was spying on me. Infiltrating my life, even though I’d been careful. Nothing about our dynamic was healthy. She was playing games with me again. Sucking me in, before she spat me out, just like at our dinner disaster a few weeks ago.

“Tell me what you know,” I demand.

“No.” Another slow lick of the spoon.

My dick twitches and internally I curse. “Tell me.”

“No, you’ll have to torture me for that information. Or beg. I haven’t decided which yet.” Her expression is thoughtful for a moment, as if she’s picturing me on my knees before her. That’s when I decided that if this was going to happen, it was going to happen on my terms.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you,” I murmur as I take each step at a leisurely pace.

As I reach the bottom, she retreats into the kitchen a little, eyes narrowed as her whole body goes on alert. The Queen of Hearts is on the backfoot, only for a moment but it’s enough as I saunter towards her.

“What?” she stammers, stepping back again.

“Torture for information,” I say nonchalantly, with a shrug. It turns out that while old Vincent Gambino was making his daughter a killer Queen, he forgot to factor in how much she liked it. That’s why she was so good at being the bloodthirsty bitch everyone knew her as, because she was practically begging to be fucked every time anyone was rough with her. Getting violent made her horny, and I planned to use that to my advantage.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed how it gets you off every time we fight.” She enjoyed the power, because she always knew she’d win, but not this time. I had finally found a way to break Rosalyn Gambino and it wasn’t with a gun or a knife, although she’d probably enjoy that too. “Are you trying to provoke me into manhandling you? Bending you over my knee?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She turns towards the oven, pretending to check the temperature settings as she twiddles with some buttons. Her cheeks are flushed as she stirs whatever mix is in the bowl again.

I tut, taking the stupid bowl from her hands, and invade her space to place it on the island counter. Reaching behind her means I’ve boxed her in between my arms, as I lean in and whisper, “I thought we agreed not to lie to each other in this house.”

There’s something about my words that spark more intimacy than it should. This house. Almost like it was our house.

She rolls her eyes as I stay where I am, almost pressed up against her. “Besides I only have to wrap my hands around like this…” My fingers slide across the column of her neck before I hold her in a firm grip, “To test my theory.”

Her breath hitches but she doesn’t move away, her big blue eyes, swirled through with grey and gold specks, watching me intensely. Her hands tremble by her sides as she struggles with the urge to push me away. She’s been taught to fight, to always be in control, but like this she’s vulnerable.

“Let’s try this again,” I say, squeezing as I brush my lips against her ear. “Who is the rat?”

She shakes her head, but I see the corner of her mouth lift upwards. I tighten my grip, feeling her swallow beneath my palm as I do. She was still passive in my hands, letting me dominate her.

“Give me what I want,” I growl.

She laughs, well as much as my hold will allow. “I’m all yours, baby.”

I bite the fleshy part of her ear. “Information Rosie, I want information.”

“What do I get in return?” she croaks, as she moves her hips closer to me.

I ask a dangerous question, knowing that there is no going back from whatever her answer may be. “What do you want?”