✓ WICKED VOWS| JAKE (Book II )

25-Blackjack Kings

Anna's pov

Thriving into the chaos of my gentlemen club this morning, the scent of pinewood, engine oil, and whisky mingled with the comforting wave of warm air as I entered the door to the Wild Joker's. Everything was set for the day's games.

The path to paradise begins in hell.

I wore a short dress designed to resemble a blazer. It was black with stark white accents on the lapel and cuffs, featuring a deep V-neckline and a wrap style with a tie at the waist. The hem brushed mid-thigh, accentuating long sleeves that added an air of elegance to the darkness. Chaotic evil.

From the CCTV room, I observed every gentleman entering the club, their faces a blend of greed and desperation. A young man meticulously checked every corner of the club, ensuring everything was in place. My gaze remained glued to the footage until a hulking figure with a man bun walked to the bar. He looked up at the cameras, a sick smile twisting his lips. Terence and his right-hand man, his brother, had arrived. He knows I will be always watching.

Quickly, I ordered Keith to bring Terence to one of the Blackjack VIP rooms. The tension in the air was palpable as I stood up, my heels clicking ominously against the polished floor. It was time to play some jackpots. Large, deep oak tables with green felt tops were scattered throughout the room, surrounded by men in expensive suits. They puffed on fine cigars and sipped brandy, each one a mirror of the men in my family—privileged, corrupt, and craving cheap thrills. Waitresses in skimpy black outfits moved among them, leaning down to cater to the patrons.

Entering the private room, I found Terence already there, his presence dominating the space. He was meticulously arranging the cards, ensuring everything on the table was perfect. Beside him stood Thomas and Marcus, their expressions as dark and unreadable as the secrets they harbored. The room buzzed with a dangerous energy, and I knew the real game was about to begin.

"Making sure every card is placed just right?" I teased, stepping inside and taking a seat across from Terence. Beside me was Thomas, his black shirt hugging his broad shoulders and tucked into his blue jeans, looking every bit the gentleman rogue. Terry, as usual, wore a simple T-shirt and dark jeans. The younger brother tipped his head back, laughing, and brushed his dark shaggy hair from his eyes. He lifted a bottle of Budweiser to his lips, taking a slow sip, while his right hand swirled the reddish-brown liquid at the bottom of his glass.

"Ready for a game, Ace?" Thomas teased, a mischievous glint in his eye.

"I'm always ready to play my cards right, Terence," I replied with a smirk. I was skilled in Texas hold 'em and seven-card stud, but my true specialty had always been blackjack.

"Well, let's start. Congratulations on your Wild Joker, Lady Anastasia," Thomas continued, reminding me of our first encounter, where we'd fought and I had stabbed him. "And I want to apologize for mistaking you for a whore that day. You know I'm a man who judges people by their looks." His smile was teasing, yet there was a hint of sincerity.

"No worries. You'd be a good lay for the man-whore you are—if I wanted to be with you in bed. I judge by looks too." I teased back, making his smile widen.

"I like you already," he said with a chuckle.

"Don't go that far, Thomy," I warned, a playful edge to my voice.

He nods at my dress. "You fit the theme of your club?" His arrogant smile reveals a perfect set of dazzling white teeth and crinkles the corners of his eyes. Oh, goody. A sexist asshole. I shouldn't have expected any better from a man who looks like he does. "The theme is whatever I choose it to be," I reply evenly, my voice carrying a hint of steel beneath its calm surface. I refuse to let his arrogant assumptions rattle me.