Heartbreak Me (Heartbreak Duet Book 1) Read online

  I walk up to him and look at his offered elbow, then head off straight ahead, not taking it. “Shall we?”

  He drops his arm and walks alongside me into the venue, which I know to be a local casino.

  “She worked for you, didn’t she?” I ask in a hushed breath.

  “She did,” Atlas answers truthfully.

  I know because when Lucy got this job, she was excited and told me all about it. I had hopes she was getting on the straight and narrow. I guess I was wrong, and it seems about a lot of things lately.

  “Sir, the room is ready, and players are set up.” A security guard stands in front of us.

  Atlas looks down at me. “Push your tits up more.” He eyes them. “What you have anyway.” His nose scrunches up. “You have men to distract.” Then he’s gone, and I’m left standing with the security guard who looks down at my cleavage, then turns away.

  Did that bastard just insult my tits?

  “Follow me,” the security guard says.

  My hands cup my breasts, and I do as he says, pushing them up as we walk through a door that leads to a kitchen, then through yet another door, which, once it’s opened, allows the sounds of music and laughter to drift through.

  “That man is on Australia’s most wanted list, and he is our highest bidder tonight. Distract him enough to make sure he loses. Do whatever you need to. What he loses will be taken off your debt, so make it count,” the security guard states, then steps back out the door, shutting it behind him.

  My hands clutch my purse with determination. If he is a big bidder, that means if I make him lose at least half of his winnings, it could be a huge chunk off what Lucy owes.

  Eyeing him up and down, I notice he is round, very round. Everywhere. Wondering why he is wanted by authorities probably isn’t a smart move; I am better off not knowing. Looking around, there are another five men in the room totaling six, with two waitresses, and one other girl dressed like I am smiling at one man in particular, which isn’t the man I need to impress, thank God.

  Walking to the bar where he’s seated, chips in hand, I tap the bar with my fingers as the bartender walks over.

  “What can I get ya?”

  “Just water, thanks.”

  The bartender squints, then pours a glass of water, making it fancy with a few blocks of ice and a lemon wedge, then he leaves it on the counter before he walks away.

  “Water? What’s your real motive?”

  I turn, managing to keep my face smiling as I look at him. His hair, likely once dark, is faded and receding, brushed over to compensate for the loss of fullness. I look down to the floor and back to him, hoping my eyes portray innocence. Men love it when a woman is naive. It brings their macho genes into play, and they get to be the gods they think they are.

  “My sister convinced me to come… said it would be thrilling,” I tell him with a bite of my bottom lip. I lean in closer. “Is it? Thrilling?”

  He smirks as if he’s won the damn lottery. “It sure is, babe. Stick with me, and I’ll show you a good time.”

  I brush him off. “I don’t want to be a pain. I mean… I don’t even know how to play.”

  “You don’t need to know how to play, you just need to watch.”

  I nod as he calls the bartender over. “Now, tell him what you really want to drink.”

  “Vodka,” I reply.

  The bartender nods and pours me a straight vodka over ice and hands it to me, which makes the man next to me smile.

  “That’s more like it.”

  I take a sip, and when I do, I realize it’s exactly what I had before. Water.

  Looking up at the bartender, he taps his ear, then points to the camera above the bar.

  Of course I can’t drink, because that would make it easier.

  Round man, which is what I have decided to call him, touches my bare leg, and I have to remember to not throw him off and slap him for touching me.

  “Stay close, babe, you may just be my good luck charm.”

  Yeah, fucking right.

  Everyone walks over to the tables and takes their seats. The round man makes sure I am right next to him as he starts playing. He begins with one thousand dollars, and I have to remember to keep my lips from opening and saying something at his disrespect for spending so much money on gambling. That money could be used on so many good things instead of going to a man who’s most definitely an asshole.

  He plays his first hand, and I don’t do much of anything. Round man drinks four drinks while he plays, and by his fifth his arm reaches out and wraps around my waist.

  Distract.

  Deflect.

  Sidetrack him.

  I look past round man to where I know the camera is located and glance up at it before I let my lips touch the round man’s neck while whispering to him asking if he needs a drink. But in reality it’s a distraction method.

  It works, and he keeps me glued to him, not caring that he has already lost fifty-thousand dollars by the end of the first hand.

  “Gentlemen.” I giggle as round man touches my leg again, this time taking it up higher over my dress but now on my thigh, as I look up to the voice that has entered the room.

  I could pick that voice out of a line-up.

  Atlas walks over to me, nods to round man, then sits in the spare seat next to me. Round man’s hand pauses on my leg as the game continues. He seems to be paying more attention, and he adds another fifty thousand dollars, which ups his bet to one hundred and fifty.

  I touch his shoulder, stroking it gently as it comes around to his turn. He loses again, and instead of being angry, he turns to kiss me. I manage to move my head at the very last second, making his lips touch my cheek. When I do move my face, I see Atlas, who’s watching me with amusement and fascination in his eyes.

  Someone wins.

  The game is done.

  I go to peel myself from round man, but he holds on tight.

  “I would gladly lose again, double that amount, if it means I get to take you home for the night.”

  My eyes go wide at his words.

  What? I did not agree to that.

  I am no man’s whore.

  Scanning around the room, I find Atlas talking to another player when our eyes connect.

  He smirks, then turns and walks away.

  Chapter Five

  Atlas

  I watched her play the perfect part. Theadora did exactly as I thought she would and was the perfect distraction. Lucy once did the same, but Lucy liked to play with the big boys, and she tended to push buttons to see how far she could go, which wasn’t all that wise.

  Theadora, well, she is the complete opposite of her sister in every way possible.

  Which makes her interesting.

  Lucy is like the grass that’s always green in winter—predictable and simple.

  Theadora is like the thorns that sting when you touch a beautiful rose—multidimensional and complex.

  She is riveting.

  I like to watch her.

  I want to study her.

  See what makes her tick. Is it me or is it something else?

  “Remove Mr. London and escort Theadora home.”

  “He will not be happy,” Garry says with a smirk.

  “No. No, he probably won’t be.” I wouldn’t be happy either if someone was about to pull Theadora out of my bed. But the difference between Mr. London and me, she would never dare enter my bed, nor will she be allowed near it. “And tell her to keep the dress.”

  Garry nods and walks off.

  I go back to the office and turn on the camera so I can see her—she’s looking up at it for help. And as if she knows it’s me watching her, she raises her middle finger so no one else can see and flips me off.

  I smile. A big, fat smile.

  I haven’t done that in a long time.

  Garry walks over to her, and she turns away from the camera. He speaks to Mr. London, who does not look pleased that he’s being told he’s about to lose
his blonde beauty, and Theadora is replaced with a call girl who I have on staff who is more than happy to have sex for money. She touches him where he wants to be touched, soothing his outburst that was about to come, with her warm hands in just the right places.

  Theadora looks up to the camera as she is walking out and her lips thin before I can no longer see her.

  “Just over two hundred thousand,” our accounts guy tells me. “Seems she may be a lucky charm,” he states, then turns, leaving my office.

  Her player lost almost all of his hands, which with what her sister owes, is a significant amount to pay back. Mr. London only loses when he’s distracted. If you take away the womanly distractions, he will always win. But put them in his way, and we will win. We learned this earlier when he first started coming into the casino.

  As I start to close everything down for the evening, in walks Sydney with a clipboard in hand and glasses on.

  “Lucy is screaming for attention, and her sister seems to be asking Garry for information on you,” she says, looking up over the rim of her glasses.

  “Give Lucy what she wants, and who cares, let Theadora dig. He won’t say anything.”

  Sydney nods then turns to leave. “Should I collect the dress tomorrow?”

  “No,” I say, looking up at Sydney.

  “That’s a four-thousand-dollar dress, sir. Do you plan to make her pay that back too, or let her keep it to sell?”

  “Does it matter to you, Sydney, what she does with it?”

  Sydney wrinkles her nose. “No. Not at all. Goodnight, sir.” She walks out, shutting the door behind her.

  I didn’t intend for Theadora to keep that dress, that was until I saw it on her. What kind of woman gets ready in fifteen minutes and walks out looking like she spent many hours on herself when I know damn well she didn’t?

  A vixen, that’s what she is.

  I’ve seen her dress down, and now I have seen her dress up. And I know what she likes. I may not know all her qualities, but I am sure she’s not like most other women.

  Theadora has a temper, she’s feisty, and her eyes look at me as if she’s trying to work out my best-kept secrets. Well, unlucky for her, no one knows my secrets. Sometimes I wonder if even I do.

  But I plan to keep it that way.

  A devil doesn’t show his hand. He plays his cards until the winning hand is revealed.

  I think she may be my favorite playing card yet.

  And I plan to play every move possible when it comes to her.

  Chapter Six

  Theadora

  “Keep the dress.” That’s what the driver guy said before he drove off.

  Surely, Atlas should know I would try to sell the dress so I can add it to the money to pay him back and have him out of my life faster. So, I put the dress up for sale today for half the price, and the minute it was online my cell phone rang.

  “Hello.”

  “Selling that dress will not help you. It’s not your money I will accept as payment, Theadora. It’s a waste of time.” Atlas voice rings through, then he hangs up without another word.

  Fuck!

  How on earth could he have possibly known I placed it online for sale? And so quickly too.

  Huffing, I took the post down. There was no point in selling it if he wouldn’t take my money.

  Shit. I wonder what else he will make me do.

  I am back at the office today, and Michelle asks me as she walks past, “Hey, it’s Marissa’s birthday Friday night. You still planning to come?”

  Anything will be better than the last weekend I had.

  “Yep.”

  “Awesome. Marissa is bringing her brother. She said she plans to set you up, so word of warning.” Michelle smiles before ducking off.

  Oh, for fuck’s sake, that’s the last thing I need right now—a man in my life—especially with everything I have going on.

  I don’t even know when Atlas will call me. I haven’t seen him since Monday night, and apart from today’s call to tell me to pull the dress down, I don’t know his plans beyond that. Honestly, he can ask whatever. He could make me be a stripper at Marissa’s birthday party and I would say yes because I need him gone and for my sister to be safe.

  My head tells me he isn’t that dangerous, but then I look at the fading bruise on my forehead and know otherwise.

  He kidnapped me.

  He could have killed me or done worse.

  Even if he looks at me as if he’s trying to work me out, Atlas is anything but kind.

  He’s silent.

  Deadly.

  Ruthless.

  And way too handsome for his own good. Which is probably the reason women overlook his evil tendencies. Well, I have seen glimpses, and I know better than to trust him or believe he won’t kill me when he has no more use for me.

  I was living in a world where evil wasn’t part of my life. I believed that even bad people could be good if you looked inside them hard enough.

  What am I? Snow White?

  Perhaps I’m wrong.

  Maybe bad is bad.

  And there’s no fixing that kind of evil.

  “Well, holy shit, woman,” Marissa says as she walks into my office holding an exceptionally large vase of flowers.

  Looking up, I reach for them and take the card attached. Turning it over, I see no writing, only the letter ‘A.’

  Is he playing games with me now?

  “Are you seeing someone? Please tell me you aren’t?”

  Oh, that’s right, her brother.

  “Yes,” I lie. The last thing I need right now is a blind date I didn’t agree on.

  “Oh, dang. Really?”

  “Really.” I smile. I hate that I’m lying to her, but I do it anyway.

  “Okay, well bring him Friday, I would love to meet him.” Marissa places the flowers down on the desk. “I mean, he sure as shit does have great taste in flowers… and women.” She winks before walking out.

  Hell no. That will never happen. I don’t know a single person who starts with the letter ‘A’ apart from Atlas, and the last thing I want to do is accept gifts from that man.

  Picking the flowers up, I place them in the trash can and get back to work.

  Fuck you, Atlas!

  And fuck your damn flowers.

  A bunch of flowers is delivered every day until Friday, and each time I throw them in the trash. Friday’s flowers I will take to Marissa for her birthday, as she will get way more joy out of them than the trash will.

  Getting dressed that night to have some drinks, the Gucci dress sits in my cupboard taunting me. I should burn it. But why would I do that to such a wonderful piece of material? It’s made of silk from Italy. That dress is a masterpiece, and burning it may hurt my soul.

  Calling a cab, I go straight to the bar where Marissa is celebrating. When I walk in, I see her table near the bar decorated with pink balloons. She’s wearing a bright pink dress, and she looks beautiful. All the girls from work are here, and there are also a few faces I don’t know.

  “Thea, this is Sebastian, my brother.”

  He stands to greet me. Sebastian’s tall, maybe taller than Atlas’s six-two.

  Fuck! Why on earth did I just compare them?

  Atlas is the devil reincarnated.

  Sebastian’s hair is the same color as Marissa’s chocolate brown and their smiles almost match.

  “I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says with a smile. He reaches out and grips onto my hand. The music isn’t too loud here at the back, but the dance floor at the front is almost filled at ten at night.

  “All good, I hope?”

  Sebastian nods slowly, letting go of my hand. He is damn good looking. Even my type, if I had a type. When he smiles, I know he means it—it’s not fake nor forced. And better yet, he smiles at me.

  “You two could have had such pretty babies,” Marissa says, leaning her head on mine as I look up at Sebastian with wide eyes and raised eyebrows.

  “She talks
about you a lot,” he says, then smirks. “Don’t worry, soon her boyfriend will be here, and she can talk babies with him.” Sebastian winks at me, easing my nerves while I take a seat next to Marissa.

  “Dean doesn’t want to talk babies,” Marissa says, taking a large sip from her straw. “We are too young,” she continues with an eye roll.

  “You are. Just have fun,” Sebastian says.

  Marissa has just turned twenty-one, and she said her brother is five years older than her, so he’s my age.

  “I’m maternal, what can I say?” Marissa throws up a hand, holding her drink in the other but almost spilling it while she does. “It’s nice of you to come. Did you invite your boyfriend? I would looovvveee….” she slurs, leaning into me, “… to meet him.”

  “No.” Because I don’t have one, but she doesn’t need to know that.

  “Whyyy?”

  The waiter brings another round of drinks, and I take one. I don’t plan to stay long. My mind is preoccupied and worried about my sister. Is Lucy all right? If I take Atlas’s word for it, she is, but I won’t rest easy until I can see her with my own two eyes. And right now, I don’t really know if she’s okay or not.

  “Let’s leave your boss alone and grill her another time. Why don’t you go and dance?” Sebastian says, nodding to Marissa’s other friends out on the dance floor already. She listens, standing and walking off to the dance floor.

  “She’s been trying to set us up for quite some time now,” Sebastian tells me, which pulls me from my raging thoughts.

  I smile up at him. “I’ve only just heard about it.”

  “I figured as much. She likes to do that. Surprise people with things she likes to control,” he says.

  I look past him to the dance floor and watch Marissa dancing for a short time, then say, “I should go. I have a busy weekend planned, and she is well on her way to having a great evening anyway. Will you tell her goodnight for me?” I ask while standing and placing my drink down.

  “It’s not anything I said, is it?”