An Offer You Can't Refuse Sal Bianchi (e reader pdf best .TXT) 📖

“And you’re cool with that?” Jase asked, his eyebrows shooting up into his hairline.

“Yeah, I am,” I replied firmly.

Something had clicked into place back in the bar during my fight with Domenico. Ever since I’d left the mafia, I’d been walking on eggshells, too scared to do anything in case I accidentally provoked them into retaliating. I’d realized while I was fighting with Domenico that I wasn’t interested in living such a pathetic existence anymore, especially if random mafia members were going to be attacking me regardless of how well I behaved.

“I’m not going to worry about ticking them off anymore.” I shrugged. “They can deal with it. This casino’s a giant tourist trap. Most of the people who come here have no experience and no idea what they’re doing. It’ll be a cinch to figure out their tells and win.”

Jase was staring at me as if I’d grown two heads, but then he blinked and nodded his head.

“All right,” he chuckled. “I guess I can’t argue with that. I bet that’s going to make Alessandro really mad, though.”

“Good.” I grinned as we made it to the poker table. I took a seat in an empty chair.

“No-limit Texas hold 'em,” the dealer announced as he began to shuffle the cards. He glanced up at me, and his hands faltered for a moment in their movements. He was staring at me with an odd expression, as though he was surprised to see me there. I didn’t recognize him, but considering this place was run by my former mafia Family, it wasn’t that surprising.

For a moment, he looked as though he was going to say something, but then his eyes drifted over to Jase and the group of girls all gathered around, and he decided against it. He probably didn’t want to start bringing up Family business in front of them.

I handed the money for the chips over, and the game began in earnest. The dealer dealt each of the six players at the table their hole cards.

Before touching my own cards, I made sure to watch the reactions of the other players at the table surreptitiously. The man immediately to the left of the dealer was careful to keep his face blank as he checked his cards, but I could see his ears turn red. If he made a low starting blind, then it was likely he had a bad hand. The next man, sitting between us, was far more obvious, as I could see his eyes light up for a moment before he carefully schooled his features into an expression of calm. The woman sitting on my other side was by far the least obvious, but I was sitting close enough to her that I could see her leg bouncing nervously beneath the table. I almost felt bad for the young man sitting on the dealer’s right, who was so obvious in his enthusiasm that probably everyone at the table could see right through him.

I lifted the edges of the two cards I was handed in a quick, practiced movement before setting them flat on the table again. They were a two and four of diamonds. It wasn’t the best hand I could have been dealt, but I could work with it.

The first man immediately to the left of put down a small opening blind, just as I’d suspected, and from there, gaining the upper hand was an easy matter. I won the first round with a straight flush and managed to just barely steal a victory in the second with another flush using two of the community cards. By the fourth round, I was up over a thousand dollars in chips, and the dealer looked like he was ready to snap.

“This table is closed,” he suddenly announced, much to the dismay of the other players, especially the young man who I’d correctly assumed would be an open book and who had lost several hundred dollars during the course of the game.

“That was amazing,” Erica gasped as I began to gather up the chips I’d won. “It’s like you were reading everyone’s minds. Or seeing the future.”

“Yeah,” I replied vaguely as I noticed the dealer step away and say something quietly into a walkie-talkie. “Okay, I think it’s time to go.”

All three girls were still talking excitedly about the game as we headed over to the cashier’s counter to cash in the chips I’d won. Jase kept glancing around nervously, as though we’d be jumped by a group of mafiosi at any moment.

“Hi.” I smiled at the man standing behind the cashier’s desk. “I need to get these cashed, please.”

“Right away, sir,” the cashier replied politely as he took the chips from me. He didn’t give me any funny looks or anything, so I assumed he must just be a regular employee. I was just thinking that we might actually get out of here without any issues when a group of three men came stalking up to the cashier’s desk.

“Hello,” the tallest of the three men greeted us with a fake smile. He was wearing a sharply tailored suit and had graying hair and a gaunt face. Judging by the way he carried himself and his deceptively cheerful customer service voice, he was clearly some kind of manager or director for the casino. “My name is Tony Marcello. I’m the assistant manager here at the prestigious Morton Casino. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask to see your IDs.”

“I know who you are,” I replied flatly. “I’d recognize that crypt-keeper face anywhere, Tony. Don’t you usually send some low-level muscle to intimidate people when they annoy you? I’m surprised you came out here just to kick us out yourself.”

Tony stared back at me in disbelief. He was one of my father’s most loyal men before he’d died, and I’d never liked him. He was mean to me even as a kid and had always compared me to my older brother. I’d been so intimidated