Victoria stood by the mahogany bar, her back to the poker table. She could feel Julian's gaze on her shoulder blades. It felt like a laser burn. She ordered a sparkling water, her hands trembling slightly as she accepted the glass.
She took a sip and surveyed the room. In the corner, near the humidor, stood a group of young men. They were Hosts. Beautiful, paid companions that the club kept on retainer for the bored wives or the lonely widows who frequented the afternoon tea sessions.
Victoria pulled out her phone. She typed a message to Zoe.
Plan B. Now.
Three dots appeared instantly. Then a reply. He is outside. Green tie.
Victoria waited. Two minutes. Three.
The elevator doors opened. Zoe walked in, looking like a chaotic storm of red hair and designer silk. Trailing behind her was a man who looked like he had been sculpted out of caramel and sin.
Leo.
He was tall, with eyes the color of amber and a smile that could melt glaciers. He spotted Victoria and immediately corrected his course.
Victoria! Zoe shouted, waving frantically. What a coincidence!
The poker table quieted down again. Julian didn't turn around, but his shoulders stiffened.
Victoria turned, putting on her best surprise face. Zoe! And... Leo?
Leo reached her in three strides. He took her hand and kissed the knuckles. Mrs. Sterling. You look... damp.
I got caught in the storm, Victoria said, laughing. It was a light, tinkling sound that felt foreign in her throat.
Leo frowned. He took off his velvet blazer without asking and draped it over her shoulders. It was warm and smelled of expensive cologne.
Better? he asked.
Much, Victoria said. She leaned into him, letting the jacket envelope her. Why don't you join me?
She led him not to a quiet corner, but to the railing that separated the bar area from the poker pit. She hopped up onto a high stool, and Leo stood between her knees, leaning against the railing.
From this angle, Julian had a direct line of sight to them.
Victoria signaled the bartender. Champagne. Two glasses.
Leo leaned in close. Is that him? he whispered.
Just smile, Leo, Victoria murmured, reaching up to adjust his tie. Laugh at everything I say.
Leo grinned. Got it.
Victoria reached out and ran her finger down Leo's lapel. I love this fabric, she said, her voice pitched just loud enough to carry. It's so refined. Unlike some of the cheap polyester you see these days.
At the table, Julian's hand froze over his chips.
Elena, sensing the shift in atmospheric pressure, tried to intervene. Julian, baby, it's your bet. You have a pair of Queens showing.
Julian ignored her. He was staring at Victoria's hand on Leo's chest.
Victoria leaned forward, whispering a joke into Leo's ear. It was a terrible joke about a lawyer and a shark, but Leo threw his head back and laughed. It was a rich, baritone sound that filled the room.
Julian shoved a stack of chips into the center. Raise. Fifty thousand.
The other players exchanged looks. The pot was already huge.
Victoria took a sip of champagne. She looked over the rim of the glass at Julian. He was looking at her, not his cards.
You know, Leo, she said, twirling a lock of hair. I've always thought intelligence is the sexiest trait in a man. Someone who knows when to fold.
Julian's jaw clenched so hard a muscle feathered in his cheek.
All in, Julian said.
The dealer paused. Sir, the bet is-
I said all in. Julian pushed his entire stack forward. Two million dollars in plastic discs.
It was suicide. Everyone at the table knew it. He hadn't even looked at his river card.
Elena gasped. Julian, no!
Call, said the man across from him, a shark named Sebastian who had been waiting for Julian to tilt all night.
Sebastian flipped his cards. A Full House. The unbeatable hand in this round.
Julian looked down at his own cards. He held the Ace-King of spades. He had the nut flush draw. He had missed. He had been staring at Victoria's hand on Leo's chest instead of calculating the odds.
It wasn't stupidity; it was distraction. It was a two-million-dollar lapse in judgment caused by the woman he claimed to hate.
The dealer cleared his throat. The house wins. Mr. Sterling loses.
Two million dollars. Gone in a second of testosterone-fueled recklessness.
Elena looked like she was going to be sick. Julian, that was... that was the trust fund dividend for the quarter.
Victoria clapped. A slow, sarcastic applause.
Bravo, she said. She raised her glass. To bad investments.
Julian stood up. The chair scraped against the floor with a screech that set everyone's teeth on edge.
He walked toward them. He moved with the predatory grace of a panther that had decided to stop stalking and start killing.
Leo stopped laughing. He straightened up, instinctively trying to shield Victoria.
Mr. Sterling, Leo began. I think-
Move, Julian said.
He didn't wait for Leo to move. He shoved him. It wasn't a playful shove. It was a blow to the chest that sent Leo stumbling backward into a service cart filled with crystal decanters.
The crash was deafening. Glass shattered. Amber liquid sprayed across the white carpet.
The room went dead silent.
Julian didn't look at the mess. He didn't look at the bouncers who were starting to move toward them. He only looked at Victoria.
He stepped into her personal space. He was so close she could see the flecks of gold in his gray eyes. She could smell the whiskey on his breath, mixed with the metallic tang of pure adrenaline.
Are you done? he asked. His voice was terrifyingly calm.
Victoria looked up at him. Her heart was racing so fast she thought she might pass out, but she didn't flinch. She held his gaze.
I don't know, Julian. Are you coming home?
Julian stared at her mouth. For a second, she thought he was going to hit her.
Instead, he reached out and grabbed her wrist.
