Cartels

chapter 16―poker

❝fold 'em, let 'em hit me, raise it, baby, stay with me, i love it❞

- lady gaga

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My gaze locks with Armando as we study each other from across the room. His eyes slowly rake down the length of my body, ravishing every little detail. And I can't help but stare at how good he looks in the black dress shirt which clings to his biceps as he rolls up his sleeves. The fire which ignites in his eyes only adds to my confidence as I walk around the table and took my seat in an empty chair which faces him. I was so entranced by Armando that I didn't pay any attention to the other people in the room until someone spoke up.

"Che cazzo ci fa una ragazza nella nostra poker room?" A pudgy old man seated to my left spoke. Armando was about to reply with a smirk painted on his glorious face, but was interrupted by a metal door in the back corner of the room flying open. A few women walked out, wearing glitzy lingerie paired with tall heels. 

My eye brows shoot up as I eye the women who walk around the circle of seats, each pairing with a man playing. One particular leggy blonde draped in a hot pink lingerie set, sat in the snarky, chubby mans lap. I continue to observe their interactions for a few seconds, quietly calculating their situations. I assume my staring bothered her because her face scrunched up in annoyance when she caught my glance. I quickly looked away, and focused my attention on Armando, who looked as handsome as ever. I noticed that he didn't indulge in the luxuries around him (aka the women). Deep down, my heart pities these women. The probability of them being kidnapped were very high, after all, they're probably forced into some kind of sex ring. I shake my head to get rid of the horrible thoughts I get when thinking about what these poor women must go through, despite their...possessive exterior. 

"Armando, chi è questa puttana? È una delle tue puttane?" One of the men from my right snickered, causing a rumble of chuckles to erupt across the room. I tried to keep my face as straight as possible, attempting to not give away that I understand their crude words.

"Potreste dirlo. Ma no. Signori, state guardando una donna morta," Armando spoke up.

Dead woman my ass, I can't help but roll my eyes at his inflated ego.

"Aw, possiamo almeno divertirci con lei prima che tu la uccida?" Another man chimed in, creating yet another round of chuckles. I inwardly cringe, cursing the disgusting pigs in front of me. 

"No, è tutta mia," Armando responds with a straight face, finding no humor in the man's remark. I give him a quizzical look. What does he mean I'm all his?

The pudgy man from earlier let his gaze linger on my face. Quickly, I regain my facade and pretend to fear the men before me, hoping to throw him off. It seems to have worked as he returns his attention back to Armando, who hasn't looked away from my face ever since I entered the room.

"Armando, che ci fa la ragazza qui?" The chubby man asks.

"Giocando," Armando states. Every single man roars with laughter, even causing the women to giggle a little, as if they understand Italian. Inwardly, I roll my eyes at all the misogynistic cows I'm currently sitting with.

"Mi stai prendendo in giro, vero?" Mr.pudgy speaks as the blonde starts feeling up his arms.

"Per quanto mi piacerebbe far ridere voi vecchi, temo di non scherzare. E poiché non voglio sprecare il vostro tempo, siete tutti liberi di andare," Armando graciously offers his guests. I somehow manage to prevent myself from narrowing my eyes at him, and instead look around the room for my little act.