Kent turned back to me with wide eyes. “How do you know all that?”

I roughly patted his shoulder before picking up the small tray he prepared for me. “You learn to spot them. I’ll have someone teach you soon.”

His smile was shaky as he moved back to the group of girls. He was a good bartender and handled the mafia presence well. I hoped this didn’t screw that up. 

Pushing those thoughts aside, I approached Bruno’s table with a grin, supporting the tray with my left hand.

“Gentlemen, it's been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of having a drink with you. Join me?” I laid the tray down in the middle of the table. All three men studied my face, watching me carefully.

“Grazie, Dillan. We’d be honored. How is business?” Bruno wrapped his large hands around the glass I filled in front of him.

“Good, as always. As you can see, we get many different types of people visiting. Nothing like shadows and alcohol to give people the confidence to act out of their nature. Let their hair down, so to speak.”

Bruno threw back his shot, then smacked his lips. “Hmmm, that is smooth. You brought us the good stuff.” He reached over and filled another glass for himself, then refilled his friends’ drinks. His other hand slid up to the female cop’s upper back, just enough to support her but not let her know things had changed. “Grazie, my friend. It’s nice to know we have a place where we can let our own hair down and know we are safe doing so.”

I nodded my head, demonstrating my acceptance and understanding. “Well, gentlemen, I hope you enjoy your night. As always, enjoy your time here at Indecent.”

I dropped the tray off back at the bar, getting a confused look from Kent. I winked at him and headed toward the back door. Just before leaving, I turned and saw the female cop walking away from Bruno with a very confused look on her face. Her partner, on the other hand, looked relieved. He was doing a poor job of hiding it. They really should find someone else to partner with her on undercover assignments. 

With a shake of the head, I stepped out of the dark club room and into a semi-dark, private stairwell. I descended down to the basement level and entered the door on the right. One of the reasons I chose to buy this building for the club was because of the extensive basement. I split it in two, one of the rooms much smaller than the other. Both were soundproofed. Both were equally fruitful.

The smaller room was well lit, but in an aesthetically pleasing way. The room held five poker tables, each filled with three to five people. To the right was a small bar where drinks could be fixed, and money exchanged for chips. I made my way over to the two men standing behind the bar.

“Are we ready?” I asked my long-time friend and right-hand man, Keith. 

He picked up his tablet and scrolled. “Just about. We have five for the tournament, and ten that are just here to play like normal.”

“That’s not bad. So why do you look concerned?”

He cleared his throat and looked toward the center table, the one that had four men and one woman sitting there. It was the man on the end with the unruly brown hair that caught my attention. He was still in decent shape, but it was obvious he hadn’t been trying all that recently. I’d known this man for a few years. He was a regular.

He must have felt our eyes on him because he looked up. I just stared, knowing he’d get the hint. Which he did. He apprehensively stood up and walked over. I leaned against the bar, resting my right arm on the top and folded my hands together.

“Hi-yah, Dillan. How are you?”

“Doing good. But I’ll be even better once you pay me back.”

Randy lifted a hand and scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “I’m working on it, I swear.”

“Ya huh. You’ve given me that line before.” I turned my head to look at Keith, keeping my relaxed pose against the bar. “How much are we up to this time?”

He made a show of studying the tablet in his hands, which I knew wasn’t needed. Keith was always prepared and knew what I would need. “25, sir.” 

I whistled and turned back to Randy. “You owe me 25,000, and yet you have the money to enter the special tournament.”

Randy shot a look over his shoulder, toward the table he had just come from, before lowering his voice and leaning closer. “Look, we both know I can beat these guys in my sleep. I can win back all of your money tonight. Both the original 12.5 and the interest.”

I didn’t say anything. I just leveled him with a look. I’d heard all of this from him before. Randy was a good poker player. He just had a habit of getting a little over-excited and didn’t know when to stop. He usually paid back his debts before the 50% interest stacked up so high. I didn’t know why this time was different.