Chapter 121: 26| Poker-1

┏━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┓ Poker ┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛ : Poker (Dante's POV) The next week flew by, and with it came work, arguments, and sex. Then more work, arguments, and some more sex. Anastasia and I were still partners, after all; partners who were being forced to work together, hence the arguments never ceased. Sure, we liked to fuck each other but work together? Not so much, and no amount of sex could change that. With a week having passed, we were anticipating another invitation to a bloody art showcase once again, and with nearly no leads, our last option was to delay it as much as we could. "What about Anastasia's suspect?" Marshall asked. "No leads on him either?" With a shake of my head, I replied, "None." Lifting a hand out of my pockets, I pushed the black-rimmed glasses further up my nose. "How is that possible? How can he be a ghost?" he demanded. I paused for a beat before tucking my hand away instead of doing something irrational like giving him the finger. "For starters, we don't have much to go off of. No last name, just… Ethan. Not to mention, there was no Ethan on the guest list." He opened his mouth to argue, of course, but I beat him to it. "The only Ethan on the list was Ethan Clifford, and he doesn't match the description Anastasia gave. She says the pictures don't match the man she saw." "What if she was mistaken?" he questioned. My brow arched up. "I think we both know better than to doubt Anastasia. She knows what she saw, Marshall." Barely stifling a sigh, he threw the evidence photos onto his desk and rose in frustration. "What do you suggest we do then, Dante? Just sit here, waiting for the culprit to give us the next invitation to the blood bath he or she created?" Pacing back and forth behind his desk, he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I suggest we steal the spotlight," came Anastasia's voice. I glanced over my shoulder as the door swung open, and she stood in the doorway. "Can I come in?" "Please," Marshall nodded, gesturing for her to have a seat. Her eyes cut to mine before she braced her hands on the chair and stood beside me. "Should I explain?" she asked. Marshall replied immediately, "Yes." Anastasia took a breath as she turned to me. "Would you like to do the honors, Mr Rossi?" The corner of my mouth twitched in amusement. "It's your idea, Ms Vitalio, please go ahead." She faced Marshall again. "There's no denying that we're at the killer's mercy. We don't know enough, and we have no control over when he or she kills again and hosts another grand show. But… what we do have control over is the pool of people the killer has access to." There was a beat of silence before a hint of approval washed over Marshall's face. "Continue." "What we can try to do is delay the event. So far, every event has taken place on a Saturday night. If we get an invitation out for a different event, we might be able to put it off and delay the murder. It's not guaranteed, but it could buy us some time." "And how do you plan to do that?" With slight hesitation, Anastasia answered, "Well… I asked for some help. I asked an acquaintance to host an event. The guest list is ours, he's just playing host." She certainly hadn't told me that… "And pray tell, who is this friend?" Marshall voiced the question in my head. She cleared her throat and stole a glance at me. Then she said, "Kai." Silence flooded the room, enough for you to hear a pin drop. "Kai? Kai Warner?" Marshall echoed. "Kai?" I asked. "Yes," she exhaled, "Kai Warner." Marshall turned to me. "Last time I checked, you and Kai weren't exactly friends." "Well, you never failed to put us up against each other at the agency… but with both of us no longer being official agents, we're civil." Until we weren't. Yes, the last time I spoke to Kai, it had all gone well. We'd agreed to be civil and grant each other a favor once in a while. We weren't friends per se, but we certainly weren't enemies. He fell somewhere between the gray area of my radar. The fucker loved to gloat and compete, his pride would be his downfall one day. Or perhaps it already was years ago when he walked away from the agency. "Why Kai?" Marshall questioned. "He's infamous for his poker parties, he hosts one every year," she shrugged in response, "he knows everybody, and everybody knows him. He's smart, keeps his composure in crowds, even a little cunning. Actually, too cunning for his own good." "Hmm," I mumbled, turning to face her, "I wasn't aware you and Kai were so close." "I wouldn't say we're close, but he intrigues me. He's intelligent," she replied. I nodded slowly as I repeated, "Intelligent." A blink of confusion and then the ghost of a smirk on those lips. "Yes, intelligent," she confirmed. Turning to Marshall, she lifted her brows. "What do you say? If you give me the go-ahead, I'll ask him to send out invitations tonight, and he'll host tomorrow." After a few minutes of silence, Marshall gave his verdict. "I don't see a reason to refuse. Kai is intelligent, he works with logic and precision. Go ahead." Anastasia nodded and said thanks before spinning on her heels and walking out, giving me one last glance. Amusement danced in Marshall's eyes. "I take it you two didn't discuss that," he mused. "No," I admitted, "but he's intelligent." "Let it go." "No. He's intelligent," I scoffed, turning around and walking out the door. Only the minute I did, I crashed right into someone. Her body fit right against mine as I caught her by the waist, steadying both of us. She inhaled sharply, grabbing my arms to brace herself. "Kai?" I questioned. "Really?" A tiny chuckle escaped her. "He's the right choice for something like this, and you know it. I would ask Tristan if he and Amara were in New York. They're on vacation, I can't bother the lovely couple." Sliding my hands off her waist, she took a step back. "Tell Marshall I left." I caught her hand, tugging her back. "Where are you going?" "Home," she exhaled, "I need to go see Dad." After that, I didn't see Anastasia until the next evening. I thought of calling her. Fuck, I even thought of taking myself to her apartment, but I figured she wouldn't appreciate me intruding on father-daughter night. Twisting the emerald cufflinks on my wrist, I waited at her door to pick her up and drive us to Kai's party as we'd agreed. As I waited, I glanced down at my attire, straightening out the cream tailored-fit suit, fixing the watch sitting on my wrist, and then running a hand through my hair yet again. "For fuck's sake," I muttered under my breath seconds before the door swung open. Anastasia took in a breath as her eyes collided with mine. "Hi," she greeted. "Hi," I replied, "ready?" "Mm-hmm," she nodded before glancing down at Kenji, who hovered behind her, peeking out to get a glimpse at me, then delivering one sharp bark at me. A sigh of annoyance and defeat escaped me. "Really? Still?" I asked. "You've been seeing me all week, I'd figured we'd be friends by now."