The
CROT4D main hall opened before her in a blaze of gold and crimson. Slot machines chimed like enchanted bells. Roulette wheels spun with hypnotic rhythm. Laughter rose and fell in waves. Above it all, a massive chandelier fashioned from inverted wine glasses glittered like trapped stars. At the far end of the room stood the Captain’s Table—a circular gaming space elevated by two steps and surrounded by velvet ropes. Only invited
CROT4D players sat there. Only they played the house’s most coveted game.
CROT4D Desire. A
CROT4D dealer in a midnight-blue coat watched her approach. He was tall, with silver threaded through his black hair and eyes so pale they seemed almost colorless. “Miss Marrow,” he said smoothly
CROT4D . “We’ve been expecting you.” “I’m sure you have, Mr. Vale.”
CROT4D Adrian Vale inclined his head. He was not merely the dealer. He was the proprietor. The legend. The man who had built
CROT4D Pirates of Desire from nothing but whispered rumors and an inheritance soaked in scandal. “Have you brought your stake?” he asked.
CROT4D placed the leather envelope on the table. He opened it without haste. Inside lay a single photograph: a younger
CROT4D standing beside a man whose smile mirrored hers perfectly. “Your brother,” Adrian said softly. “Yes.” “And you are certain?” She met his eyes without flinching. “I’m certain.”
