The Ghost

 

POV: Eli

"Same shit, different day."

Eli Michealson ran his fingers through his hair as he made his way toward the security room of the casino floor. He swiped his card key against the electronic lock, keyed in his four-digit code, and turned the knob.

"Talk to me," he said to his right-hand, Pamela Ridgeway, a tall, refined woman who'd been his father's second-in-command.

Pam didn't look up from the monitors. "You look tired, Eli. Is she that good?"

"Her loud moaning is very tiring. Which reminds me—she's still in my room. I want her out of there when I come back later."

"Yvetta," Pam said curtly.

"What?"

"That's the name of your moaner. Not that you care."

"Their price tags are the only things I remember." Eli moved toward the wide array of surveillance screens, eyes scanning the casino floor of the Obsidian Ace.

Pam huffed indignantly. She'd handpicked Yvetta for him—a high-class escort with a thick Russian accent and a body to die for. "Remind me again why I suffer a pig like you?"

"Because I'm a very generous pig." He smirked. "And your dignity is cheaper than your shoes."

Pam rolled her eyes but didn't say anything to counter his vilifying remark. In spite of his snide comments about her exorbitant lifestyle, Eli was really a very good employer and much better friend. He never treated her like an underling but more like a sister.

Eli had never had a sibling. His mother died after giving birth to him. His father, Godric, never remarried but took many lovers. Godric, adamant not to spawn another child, spent his life expanding the family business to secure Eli's future.

The young Eli's concept of home had been confined to the four walls of his suite since Godric spent most of his time dealing with their string of hotels and casinos.

Being the only heir to his family's empire, Eli became the epitome of a spoiled rich boy: sheltered, entitled, arrogant, cold, and selfish.

But when Godric died of lung cancer seven years ago, Eli had been forced to take the reins at twenty-four. The stockholders tried to outsmart him into handing over his legacy as soon as Godric kicked the bucket.

Eli, who hadn't worked a day in his life, was sorely lacking in experience. But he was a fast learner, and tenacity was one of his strong suits. He kept Pam at his side and let go of the people who expressed trepidation at him leading the charge.

He'd proven his mettle two years later when he sealed the deal in Macau. The stockholders had set him up for failure when they asked him to lead the expansion of the Obsidian Ace in Asia. They didn't expect Eli to come through, and as soon as he did, they didn't have any more reasons to usurp his management.

Seven years later, Eli earned a spot on Forbes' young billionaires' list with more than eight hotel and casino resorts to his name, not to mention the other establishments he'd collected through the years.

Spearheading the Michealson Enterprise, Eli became fiercer and more ruthless than before, which acquired him the moniker "The Ghost." His leave-no-prisoners approach was envied by some and feared by many.

The Ghost inherited not only his father's knack for business but also Godric's sense of self-preservation when it came to women. Even when Eli was younger, he wasn't one to tie himself to anybody. He never had a steady girlfriend who lasted more than a month.

Women came and went in regular intervals. Pam even made wagers with other employees as to how long Eli would last with a particular girl. Pam never lost a bet because she always bet one week. Like clockwork, Eli would dump the poor girl after seven days. According to Eli, women had expiration dates and he was not one to linger and wait for them to spoil.

The Ghost soon got tired of dating altogether. Now he would only go down to the casino or the club—if he were feeling more flirty, to pick up his fuck for the night. On nights like tonight, when he didn't even have the energy for useless chitchat, he would leave the procuring to Pam.

"If you like her so much, Pam, then by all means help yourself. It's on me." He winked at Pam, who'd made no secret of her sexual preference.

Pam shook her head in disgust but took note of his offer. Maybe she could sneak in a little treat during her midnight break.

Eli patted the man sitting in front of a big monitor that overlooked the casino floor. "Anything out of the ordinary, Hawk?"

Jimmy Merlotte, a man with a medium build in his thirties, was in charge of manning the surveillance cameras in the control room. Jimmy's hawk-like eyes were exceptional in spotting cheaters and chip-swappers, which got him the nickname "Hawk."

"Nothing worth your time, boss. We had some minor problems with the new slot machines in the high limits floor. They're defective. Pam already sent a technician to fix them. Oh, and just a couple of nerds who were counting cards at the blackjack table. Roman's on his way to detain them."

Eli snorted derisively as he studied the screens. "Fucking nerds. Think they're too smart to get away with anything. Tell Roman to call me when he shakes them up. I need some entertainment."

He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but rattling up some gutsy dorks might be the only highlight of his boring day.

The Ghost started toward the door, Pam on his heels. He needed to make an appearance on the casino floor and greet the usual high rollers.

"Actually, there's one more thing," Jimmy hurried on.

Eli's steps halted. He looked back at his technical supervisor, eyebrow raised.

"Look at this." Jimmy pointed at the huge frame in the center.

The Hawk, with his messy hair and scruffy beard, zoomed in on one of the tables at the high limits poker room. Eli bent forward to get a better view of the screen.

Poker tables didn't tend to draw much attention from security, mainly because they weren't hotspots for cheaters. For one, poker wasn't technically gambling but more a game of wits. So unless the players were conspiring with each other to outgun another opponent, known as collusion, there was very little the management could do.

Besides, this particular table was holding a Texas Hold 'em tournament, so the money in the pot belonged to the players, not the house. In fact, the casino would be more profitable if more players joined because the house would earn ten percent of the pot money.

"Can you see it?" Jimmy asked.

"No, I don't. Bottom dealing?" Eli focused his gaze on the dealer to see if he were handing cards from the bottom of the deck. But there wasn't anything wrong with the way he was dealing.

Eli kept a tight leash on all his employees. He'd made it a point to meet with his staff. from housekeeping to management, twice a month to make sure no one would risk betraying his trust.

Pam came up behind him, also squinting at the monitors.

Jimmy magnified the video feed. All Eli could see was a blonde girl in an inexpensive-looking blue dress.

The blonde was fairly attractive with her wavy locks, fair complexion, and big brown eyes, but there was nothing extraordinary about her. Eli couldn't see her full figure because she was sitting down, but from what he could see, she had ample bosoms and toned shoulders that were notable but not exceptional.

"Jimmy, if you're planning to set me up with that girl, forget it. She's not my type. Too fucking plain."

"I'll take her," Pam butted in. "She looks sweet."

Eli looked at Pam as though she was someone who would take home doggie bags after a date and snorted before he straightened his back.

"No! I mean, yeah she's cute but that's not what I mean." Jimmy stood up and gave Eli his swivel chair. Eli took it and fixed his gaze on the monitor again.

"See this." Jimmy pressed his index finger on the screen, pointing at the two cards the blonde was holding. It was a new deal, so she hadn't seen them yet. The blonde squeezed the cards in front of her to peek at them.

Ace and Eight of Spades.

Good hand, Eli noted.

The betting began. She paid the blinds and raised them double. The camera was focused on the girl so all Eli could see of the other players were their hands pushing the chips to the center of the table.

The Flop came—Seven of Spades, Jack of Diamonds, and Ace of Clubs.

The blonde's chances were looking better. She checked without calling a raise as she waited for someone to make the move.

Not bad, Eli mused. When there was a face card (Kings, Queens, Jacks) or Aces, it was always prudent to look modest when you had a good hand. Otherwise it was like announcing you had an indomitable set of cards, thus scaring your opponents away early in the game.

Someone took the bait and raised the bets. The blonde peeked at her cards again, looking doubtful, before she called the raise.

She's playing them! Eli thought.

Then came the Turn. Eight of Clubs.

Dead man's hand.

The blonde now had one of the best possible hands at the table. It was time to make her move. Because it was a no-limit game, a player could raise more than the value of the pot, and that was when the raise war began until there were only three players left before the last card was drawn. Including the blonde, who was obviously hustling the table.

As though the blonde couldn't get any luckier, the River card was an Ace of Hearts.

Full house, Aces over Eights.

It couldn't get any better than that. It was time to go for the kill. If she played her cards right, she could lure the remaining players to go all-in.

The first player to call had raised double. That player was obviously bluffing. There was no way he could beat the girl's hand.

That was when the blonde did the unexpected.

She folded.

"Whoa!" Pam gasped. "Why would she fold a full house without the possibility of a royal flush or quad? Bad beat!"

Since there were only three live players at the table before the River, the pot was left for the last two participants to fight over.

The man on the opposite end went all-in, while the other one folded his hand. Just like that, the game was done.

The player who made the blonde fold took the large pot without having to show his cards.

"She's probably a fish who gets scared way too easily," Eli muttered under his breath, though he didn't sound convinced himself.

"She's been playing like that for the past couple of hours, boss. She would fold a good hand then would go all-in with crappy cards," Jimmy said. "At first I thought it was her play, too. Going chameleon so the other players won't be able to tell when she's bluffing. But while I was watching her, I figured it out. She was colluding with the other guy. The one who just took the pot."

Eli turned pensive for a moment. If Jimmy were right and the blonde was losing on purpose to help the other player, then she was really colluding. Unfortunately, there was virtually nothing the management could do about it. The house was known to turn the other cheek when it came to poker games. For one, collusion was hard to prove.

"Maybe she has the hots for the other guy. Let it go, Jimmy. We're not losing money on that anyway." Eli stood up from the chair and started toward the door.

"It's Barry Carrolton, boss," Jimmy blurted out.

Eli turned around abruptly to face Jimmy. "Barry's the guy she's helping."

The air in the room went cold.

Eli's eyes darkened instantly before he turned to Pam. "Bring them in."

The Ghost dashed toward the monitors. "Play the previous surveillance. I want to know if they're really working together. No one fucks with me in my house. Especially not Barry Carrolton."