The air inside 'The Queens' was thick with anticipation, the low hum of jazz weaving through the scent of whiskey, perfume, and unspoken deals.
Loreley walked through the private entrance of the nightclub, her every step deliberate. She was dressed for war, though not in the way men expected—her black silk dress hugged her figure like a weapon, the slit high enough to remind anyone watching that she was dangerous in more ways than one.
She spotted Victor immediately.
He sat in a secluded booth, a glass of dark liquor in front of him, his expression unreadable as always. The moment she approached, he looked up, his gaze sharp and knowing.
"Loreley," he greeted smoothly, gesturing for her to sit.
She slid into the seat across from him, crossing her legs, matching his composed energy. "Victor."
A waiter arrived with a glass of whiskey for her—neat, exactly how she liked it.
Victor smirked. "I took the liberty of ordering for you."
Loreley lifted the glass to her lips, taking a slow sip. "And what other liberties have you taken?"
Victor chuckled, swirling his own drink. "Only the ones that matter."
She leaned forward slightly. "Then let's stop wasting time."
Victor's smirk deepened. "Very well." He set his glass down, his fingers tapping lightly against the table. "Your first move is Dominic Russo."
Loreley's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her chest.
Dominic. Zayden's right hand.
The man who had watched her with sharp, assessing eyes at the gala three years ago.
Victor leaned back, studying her reaction. "He's a valuable piece on the board. Zayden trusts him implicitly, but Dominic isn't a loyal man. He's an opportunist. Give him a reason to doubt Zayden, and he'll listen."
Loreley tilted her head. "And how do you suggest I do that?"
Victor smirked. "Dominic is a man of appetite." He took a sip of his drink. "Power, wealth, pleasure. Show him that you can offer more than Zayden ever could."
She exhaled through her nose, rolling the whiskey over her tongue before answering.
"And what makes you think he'll be interested?"
Victor's eyes glinted. "Because you're not just any woman." He leaned forward slightly, his voice lower, more calculating. "You are the widow of a king. And a woman who kills her king is far more dangerous than one who kneels."
A slow, knowing smile curved on Loreley's lips.
"So be it."
The poker game was invitation-only. But Loreley didn't need an invitation.
She arrived at the high-rise penthouse where the game was being held, her entrance met with a mix of curiosity and unease. Men in expensive suits eyed her warily, while their companions—women draped in diamonds and danger—whispered behind raised glasses.
She ignored them. Because she wasn't here for them.
She was here for him.
Dominic Russo sat at the center of the room, exuding the effortless confidence of a man who never lost.
His tailored charcoal suit was crisp, his dark hair slightly tousled in a way that made him look like he belonged to the night itself.
Cards in hand, whiskey within reach, he played with the kind of ease that only a man with nothing to fear could.
Until he saw her.
Loreley met his gaze from across the room, and for a moment, the game ceased to exist.
A flicker of something unreadable passed through Dominic's expression—curiosity, intrigue, something darker.
She smiled, slow and deliberate, before turning to the dealer.
"Buy me in."
The game unfolded with electric tension. Loreley played well, but it wasn't about winning. It was about control.
She watched Dominic watching her—how his gaze flickered to her hands as she placed her bets, how his lips curved when she called his bluffs.
By the time the game dwindled down to just the two of them, the room had grown quieter, as if everyone else had become mere spectators to a different kind of game.
Loreley placed her next bet without hesitation. "Are you always this predictable, Signor Russo?"
Dominic smirked, leaning back in his chair. "And here I thought you liked predictable men."
She arched her brow. "No, I like useful men."
Dominic chuckled, swirling his whiskey. "Is that what I am to you?"
Loreley tilted her head, allowing just the hint of a smirk. "Not yet."
A flicker of amusement passed through his eyes. "But you'd like me to be."
She leaned forward slightly, lowering her voice. "I like men who recognize when it's time to switch sides."
For the first time that night, Dominic's smirk faltered.
Just a fraction. But she saw it.
He recovered quickly, setting his cards down. "You're playing a dangerous game, cara mia."
Loreley exhaled a soft laugh, swirling the last of her whiskey in her glass. "So are you."
Dominic studied her for a long moment.
Then, he stood, extending a hand. "Walk with me."
They stepped onto the balcony, the city stretching below them in a sea of lights. The air between them was charged, crackling with something neither of them dared name.
Dominic turned to her, his expression unreadable. "So tell me, Cattaneo." His voice was lower now, more dangerous. "Are you here as a widow?"
Loreley met his gaze evenly. "No."
He smirked. "Then what are you?"
She stepped closer, the space between them shrinking.
"I am everything Zayden fears," she murmured.
Dominic inhaled slowly, eyes flickering down to her lips before dragging back up to her eyes. "And what do you fear, tesoro?"
Loreley's pulse quickened, but she refused to show it. "I fear nothing," she whispered.
Dominic's smirk deepened. "Liar."
A sharp inhale. A slow exhale.
For the first time in a long time, Loreley felt something stir beneath the surface—something she couldn't quite name.
She had come here to recruit him. But Dominic Russo was not a man who could be recruited.
He was a man who chose. And Loreley wasn't sure which choice he would make.
Not yet.