Page 11 of Dublin Beast
Jamie leads me toward a hidden staircase in the back, where another man stands watch. No words are exchanged. The guard steps aside, allowing us through, his gaze lingering on me a beat too long to be polite.
Beyond the gentleman’s lounge lies a private casino.
The scent of cigars and whiskey is stronger here, mixing with the underlying clinking of clay chips being put into play. Low, green-felt tables stretch across the room, each one surrounded by men nursing crystal glasses and stacking crisp bills. The lighting in here is strategic—bright enough to see the cards, dim enough to hide expressions.
The dealers are silent, their movements practiced.
The pit bosses look like they’ve come straight out of the Godfather movie. Broad shouldered, expressionless, their gazes constantly scanning the crowd.
Jamie makes his way to a roulette table, pulling a few bills from his pocket like it’s an afterthought. He plays lightly, betting small, laughing when he loses, making casual conversation with the men around him. I stand close enough to appear engaged, but far enough to observe the room and make sure no one gets the jump on me from behind.
If Jamie’s involved in anything illegal, this is where I expect to see it. A quiet exchange, a shift in demeanor,something.I track movement around me, catalog faces, search for patterns in the chaos.
But there’s nothing.
No deals, no threats, no obvious criminal activity. Just money being thrown around like it means nothing.
Another man at the table watches me from the corner of his eye. When I meet his gaze, he smiles, but there’s nothing friendly about it. It’s the smile of a predator, patient and certain.
I roll my shoulders, pushing the unease down. “Why is everyone staring at me?” I keep my voice light, but there’s an edge to it I can’t quite hide.
Jamie flashes me a dazzling smile. “Because you’re beautiful, doll. I’d bet they can’t help themselves.” His words are smooth, practiced, and completely at odds with what I’m feeling.
I give him a tight smile, letting some of my discomfort shine through. It would seem strange if I wasn’t uncomfortable, given the ogling I’m getting.
Jamie doesn’t stay long. After losing a few rounds, he stretches, tossing the dealer a tip before turning to me. “Ready to call it a night?” His tone is casual, but there’s something in his eyes.
Is it assessment? No, it’s more like calculation.
I hesitate, scanning the room one last time, searching for something,anythingthat gives this place away for what it really is.
But there’s nothing.
Just men in suits, cigars curling smoke into the air, and an unshakable feeling in my gut that I’m being assessed. Like merchandise. Like prey.
“Sure. This was fun. I never realized there was so much happening behind the scenes.” I let a hint of naivety color my voice, playing into whatever role he has cast me in.
Jamie walks me out of the casino and back to the restaurant where we met up a few hours ago. The street is quieter now, only a few stragglers lingering outside, voices hushed in the late-night air. The temperature has dropped, and I suppress a shiver that has nothing to do with the cold.
He stops near the curb, hands in his pockets. “And that’s the private tour. Did you have fun?”
I force a smile. “I did. It was… enlightening.”
Not a lie. It was enlightening—just not for the reasons he might think.
Jamie tilts his head, studying me in a way that makes my spine stiffen. “Then maybe we should do it again some time.” It’s phrased as a suggestion, but there’s something in his tone that makes it feel more like an inevitability.
“I’d love that.” The words taste like ash but I wrap myself in conviction. I need to see this through—for Macie and Chantal.
And just like that, he turns and leaves.
He strides away with the confidence of a man who gets what he wants and I’m left feeling wholly unbalanced. I don’t move right away, my mind still racing through the night, trying to find the moment I missed something.
All the interactions, the looks, the unspoken exchanges—they all pointed toward me breaking through the veil of secrecy.
I truly thought he’d make a move.
By the time I make it back to the hotel, my thoughts are tangled with frustration. Before I can lift my fist to knock on Anton’s door, it flies open.
