Their Father Called Me Family, So His Four Sons Made Me Theirs novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Baccarat

Gemma's POV

My badge still did not open a single door at the Meridian.

Marco's key did.

At one in the morning on Saturday he walked me through the employee elevator and the dark service hall behind the casino floor.

He let us into the high-limit salon and locked the door behind us.

The room was empty, and every chandelier was dimmed to gold.

One baccarat table stood in the center of the carpet under its own low lamp, the green felt pulled flat and spotless.

"I know this table," I said.

"I thought you might."

My father had worked this salon for twenty years.

He had stood at this very rail in a black vest.

At fifteen, I had learned from him to count a shoe at our kitchen table, with a deck of cards and a pencil.

"Count it for me," he used to say. "One card at a time, Gemma. Never lose the number."

Marco stood close behind me with his hand at the small of my back.

"I should have brought you here years ago," he said. "I should have brought you everywhere."

"You're bringing me now."

"I want to give you something." He turned me around. "And I want to ask you something first."

"Ask."

"Tell me what you want me to do."

I looked up at him, at the reading glasses folded in his pocket.

His hard face had never once softened for anyone but me.

I knew exactly what I wanted.

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