She didn’t look at Sedric for several moments. Her heart pounded. He was the don of a casino Family, just like Vianca, and if he was anything like her, then Enne was right to be afraid. She should be petrified. She should run.
But that wasn’t an option. She might need to poison him for Vianca, but she would survive this night for Lourdes.
At last, she turned to him.
He was already smiling at her.
He was attractive. Not in a beautiful or even a handsome way, but in how he carried himself. As if he had power over everyone, and he knew how to use it. But the more Enne stared at him, the more she noticed the heavy grease in his hair and the outrageous, gaudy details of his suit—as if anyone really needed a diamond-studded necktie.
Yet as attractive as he was, it wasn’t a good-looking smile. It was threatening, like a wolf who had just spotted his prey.
“I don’t believe we’ve met,” he said smoothly. His age was difficult to discern—his receding hairline didn’t match the few lines on his face. She guessed about thirty years old. “Are your parents here?”
“What? No, no,” she said, her voice distressed. She was breaking the first rule. He could see her fear. She needed to do better than that if she was going to live through the night.
A knife winked at her from his pocket. She almost whimpered.
“And are you a fan of Tropps, miss?” Sedric asked.
She didn’t have any chips. She didn’t know how to play. Her lie was unraveling before she could even spin it.
Forget you noticed me, she pleaded. She wanted to go home. She wanted to be invisible again, so long as she was safe.
But she was trapped under Sedric’s snare of a smile and the other players’ bewildered looks. She was in the spotlight. For once, she had people’s attention.
So she did the only thing she knew. She smiled innocently and lied. “Yes. I play all the time.”
She could tell from his expression that he didn’t believe her. But there was no suspicion in his eyes—only amusement. She was simply a silly girl to him.
She relaxed—barely. Young, innocent...she could keep up that charade. She was a Bellamy schoolgirl lost in the City of Sin. She knew this role well.
Sedric slid her a stack of ten green chips. “Compliments to a pretty young lady.”
“Thank you.” She placed one of the chips in the center, and the dealer handed her three cards. She mimicked how the other players held them and moved some cards around here and there for good measure.
Each round, the players placed their bets, and the dealer passed them a new card. This continued for a few turns, until each of them was asked to reveal three cards from their hand. Enne flipped over the ace of spades, then the queen and ten of hearts. The others watched with raised eyebrows. Perhaps she’d made the wrong move.
One of the players folded, and so did she. With four chips left, she waited for the game to finish, the hairs on her neck rose on end. She felt the heated gazes of the whole table. She looked obviously lost. If this continued, Sedric might grow suspicious.
When the game finally ended and the dealer collected the pot of chips, Sedric turned to her. “I take it you’re not a regular. Are you sure you’ve played before?”
“Was I that obvious?” she asked, trying to appear sheepish. She wiped her sweaty hands on her tulle skirt.
He smirked at her as if, yes, she was. “Waiting on someone? You can’t be here by yourself.”
“I’m here alone,” she replied cautiously. “I thought I’d watch the dancers.”
“Then you’re a little lost. The theater is across the hall.” He scanned at her up and down, and she resisted the urge to look away from his dark eyes. She was supposedly playing the role of the assailant, yet his gaze was the one growing more and more predatory. Her skin prickled with unease. “Would you like me to accompany you? I wouldn’t want you to get lost again.”
“That would be lovely...”
“Sedric.”
“Sedric,” she echoed nervously.
“And your name, miss?” He took her arm and led her around the tables. She peeked at Levi, who was—thankfully—still too focused on his game to notice her.
“En... Emma. It’s Emma.”
“A pleasure, Emma.”
In the lobby, the air reeked of floral perfumes, cigarette smoke and the perpetual stink of Tropps Street. Groups in ruffled gowns and tuxedos shuffled between the restaurant and the casino rooms, but they all parted for Sedric as he approached. Enne couldn’t tell if it was out of respect or fear—in New Reynes, they both seemed like the same thing. She tried to avoid their wary gazes in her direction to keep herself from trembling.
“The performance doesn’t start for a half hour,” Sedric said. “Do you like dancing as much as you like watching it?”
In order to poison him, she’d need to stay with him until he bought himself a drink. But the way he held her, his arm linked so tightly with her own, her side pressed against him, she felt the urge to flee. It was nothing he had said, but the way he looked at her. It made her feel...wrong.
“I love dancing, but only if I have a good partner,” she said, swallowing down her longing for escape. She had lasted this long. She could do this.
She had to.
He smiled. His teeth were alabaster white. “I promise you will find me more than acceptable.”
He steered her to the dance floor of a grand ballroom of twinkling lights and waxy floors. The other couples danced chest-to-chest, and Sedric pulled her close. His breath warmed her forehead, and she wished she was tall enough to look him in the eyes, or at least anywhere above his neck.
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