Scott dug into his pocket, briefly pulling his phone halfway out before siding it back in.
"Fancy a game, Mr. Expert?" Luca asked. already laying claim to his cards as they were set down before him. "Obviously, she's the prize. I win, she comes home with me and marries me tomorrow. You win, and I'll let her quit the mafia. No questions asked."
"Luca, you impetuous idiot," said Don Marcus, laughing heartily. "Why play poker with a walking corpse?"
This not so subtle threat forced the men behind Don Marcus to laugh, along with him, sending a chill down my spine.
This threat was issued to Scott, but it made my blood boil just the same. The same Scott lazily checked his watch again. It was the same patience he showed when he was waiting for something to happen so that he could take the perfect photo.
I vaguely considered what he had said about the place being raided, but then my anger kicked in and got the better of me.
"Go fuck yourself, Luca. I am Stacy Luciano, heir to the most powerful don in America. You will show me some respect," I demanded.
"You see I would, but according to you, that's no longer the case, bambina. So just sit there and look pretty while I make you my wife, huh?" said Luca, his voice cold and bored at the same time.
"What the hay," said Scott, accepting his cards.
What followed was a tense back and forth of the dealer dealing new cards again and again, with Scott almost immediately folding every time.
"Last hand," said a now irritated Luca after checking his cards. "No more folding."
"Sure," said Scott, checking his watch once again. "One thing. I want Stacy next to me."
As if remembering my existence, Scott turned to me and flashed me his pearly whites.
"Move," said Don Marcus impatiently.
I wanted to slap Scott in the face. Everything he said seemed to get us deeper into hot water. Nevertheless, I did as I was told, got up and sat myself down next to him.
"Not that it matters, seriously don't check, but I think you lost this time. You didn't touch your drink when you got your cards. Your tell for a good hand. Which means you don't have anything. I have a full house," said Scott, taking my hand in his under the table. "Again, it doesn't really matter. I was just stalling until the feds finally found this place. Any minute now."
I looked at Scott, my heart in my throat as the seconds ticked by. We all sat there, frozen to our seats.
"Only a select few know this place even exists. Our clients know to be discreet. Snitches get stitches. Get rid of him," said Don Marcus, smirking coyly.
"Scott," I said through gritted teeth, squeezing his hand hard.
"Any minute now. What, do I have to draw you a map, Jeff?" Scott muttered, a flicker of panic showing up in his eyes.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watched Luca turn over Scott's cards just as I heard Joey's voice call out into the night, "Cops. Everybody run."
"Don't have to tell me twice," said Scott, dragging me out of my seat as the lights went out.
Chaos descended upon the room, as people fled to the exit. In the disoriented crowd, we lost Don Marcus, Luca and their men, but instead of heading towards the direction in which the crowd was going, Scott pulled me deeper into the room.
"What the fuck are we doing?" I yelled at him, panic-stricken.
"Trust me," he said. "Just keep going."
By now blinding lights were showing up all over the place, and armed men were giving orders to everyone unlucky enough to still be around, identifying themselves as FBI.
After stumbling around in the dark for ages, we made it out into an underground parking lot.
"Scottie," Willow called out, throwing herself into her brother's arms. "Scottie, I'm so sorry. I didn't know who Joey was—"
"There's no time," said Scott, looking over Willow's shoulder.
I followed his line of sight. A few cars away, one of Luca's men had spotted us and was coming our way.
"Go. Kenny, get them out of here. Make sure Willow makes her flight," said Scott, watching the large, angry man approach us as he pushed Willow away. "Go, go now."
"Scott, no," I begged, grabbing hold of both of his hands. "Come with us."
"I'm fine. For the record, even if he did win, you still wouldn't be his," said Scott, smashing his lips into mine for three seconds before pulling away and pushing me towards Kenny.
"Scott," I screamed, watching him back track.
"We have to go, Stace," Kenny insisted, pulling me away.
"It's going to be fine. I promise. Run," Scott insisted.
Willow looked conflicted, but ultimately chose to listen, passing Kenny and me by on her way out.
"You want me, big guy? Come and get me," said Scott, baiting one of the men who had been told to kill him minutes ago.
I didn't get to see what happened next, because Kenny was dragging me along behind him. I don't know when it happened, but Kenny had managed to get his keys to Willow, who was now pulling up in a car next to us.
"Stace, we need to get in the car. We need to go before more mafia dudes find us," Kenny said urgently, but I was frozen to the spot.
I couldn't move, couldn't think, couldn't breathe.
"We can't just leave him," I yelled out into the night as Kenny bundled me into the back seat, before getting in next to me.
"Step on it," Kenny insisted.
"I'm sorry, I'm a little drunk," said Willow.
That was the last thing I registered before I became a prisoner of my own mind. All I could see on a loop was Scott going back into that building.