Deuces Wild: The Billionaire's Dangerous Obsession

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.