Prologue
The end of SPARK, book #1, Web of Desire
Patrick
“Mr. Kelly.”
I didn’t draw it out. Instead, I turned my entire hand. 9, 8, 7, 6, and 5, all of diamonds.
“A straight flush.”
Chairs moved as the room erupted.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” Sparrow said loudly as he stood. “We will maintain order.”
I reached over to Madeline, but she was also standing. Her expression of elation was gone, replaced by what could only be construed as fear.
“I can help you.”
She straightened her neck. “No one can.”
I sat dumbfounded as she made her way through the crowd to Ivanov.
Why would she go to him?
There was no question by the Detroit kingpin’s expression, he was upset. With the volume and commotion of the room, I strained to hear what they were saying. The uproar won. That was all right, I didn’t need to hear his words. Ivanov’s body language alone had the small hairs on my neck standing on end.
The dealer was collecting the chips.
Sparrow and Mason came my way. “Good job,” Sparrow said. “Let’s go downstairs and get this figured out.”
“What about...” I looked over to Andros Ivanov still talking to Maddie.
“We have Sparrows here,” Mason said, looking at Sparrow. “Both Ivanov and Hillman and their respective crew will be escorted off the property as soon as we are secure.”
Our number-one job was keeping the boss, Sterling Sparrow, safe.
I looked from my friends to Maddie and back again. “I will explain this soon—I’ve tried already—but first I have to be sure of something. My gut is telling me something isn’t right.” I looked at Mason and tipped my chin toward Sparrow. “Get him downstairs.”
The commotion grew louder around Ivanov and his men with Maddie right in the middle.
Sometimes it’s safest in the middle of the fire.
Oh hell no. I couldn’t stand by any longer.
Ivanov’s voice came into range. “I told you what would happen if you lost.”
“Get the other spectators out of here,” I ordered, speaking to a Sparrow capo. “I want this hall cleared.”
“No, no, you didn’t say that,” Maddie’s voice cracked. “Andros, I’m sorry. I had a great hand. You saw it. It was dealt to me. I was so sure.” With each sentence her desperation mushroomed, causing the words to come faster and faster.
I walked closer, leaving Mason and Sparrow with other Sparrows.
“Please...don’t do this,” she said, holding onto his arm.
He reached for her hand and roughly pushed it away.
I moved closer. “Don’t touch the lady.”
Ivanov’s laughter resonated above the crowd noise. It wasn’t only his. Now Hillman and his men were circling the others.
“Lady?” Ivanov asked. “You have the wrong woman.” He eyed Madeline. “This one’s a loser.”
My fist came forward. Before I had time to think, it collided with his arrogant jaw.
“No,” Madeline screamed as her hands came to her lips.
Ivanov staggered backward as his arms went out. “Wait,” he demanded, holding back his men as they lurched forward, their eyes on me. “No, not yet.” He regained his position as he rubbed his chin.
“Get out of my club—now. Your invitation has expired.”
I knew the deep, commanding voice. It was Sparrow.
Fuck. He needed to get out of here.
“Your club? You think this club is yours?” Ivanov asked. “You probably think the city is yours too. You’re wrong. I have parts, and soon I will have it all.”
“Get the fuck out now,” Sparrow said, his words demanding yet his tone eerily calm, “and you will live to see tomorrow.”
“Come,” Ivanov said to the men gathered. “We’ll be back.” He nodded to Mason. “Better check on the man in the office. He was no longer useful to me.”
What?
Mason’s gaze met mine.
Was he talking about Beckman?
By the time I turned to Madeline, she was walking, her head down, following Ivanov’s and Hillman’s men as they exited the room.
“Madeline, stay here,” I said, ignoring the way Sparrow and Mason were looking at me.
Her head shook. “I can’t, Patrick.”
“Man,” Mason said, reaching for my shoulder, “whatever is happening, let her go.”
Ivanov stopped and turned to Madeline. “I told you that returning required a win.” His gaze came to me. “Keep her. Her usefulness is also done. I have the newer version.” His lips curled into a smile. “She’s something else...fresh, innocent, and even more beautiful.”
“No, Andros. I’ll do anything,” Madeline called out as Ivanov and his men continued to leave.
“Make sure they are escorted off the property,” Sparrow was saying.
“Please, you promised,” she pleaded, her voice growing louder.
“And you promised me a win.” Those were his last words.
My attention went to Madeline as I tried to make sense of what happened, what was happening. In the few minutes since the last game she had crumpled. I went to her as she leaned forward sobbing as if she’d been hit in the stomach.
Standing taller, she looked up at me with tear-filled eyes. “I told you I had to win.” She looked at me, Mason, and Sparrow. “Please, if you can, stop him. I have to go with him.”
“Maddie, you don’t understand who he is,” I said.
She nodded. “I do. I know exactly who he is.”
“Patrick, what—?” Sparrow began.
“I’ve been trying to tell you—”
Madeline’s gut-wrenching wail stopped my reply.
I reached for her arm. “I’m going to tell them.”
“I-it doesn’t matter,” she muttered, sobs hiccupping her words. Mascara and tears covered her cheeks as blotches filled her neck and chest. “Y-you don’t understand.”
I reached again for Madeline’s arms, no longer caring about Sparrow and Mason. “I understand you’re my wife. I’ll keep you safe.”
“Patrick,” she said, trying to catch her breath. “I have to go with Andros.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I do. He has my—” Her glassy green eyes stared up at me. “Patrick, Andros has our daughter.”
Patrick
Daughter.
The word rang like an echoing gong repeating over and over in my head, each time demanding more—more thought, more consideration, and more understanding.
Though hell was breaking loose around us, such as the resounding shrill of a fire alarm, her declaration had my full attention.
Daughter.
The single word held too much meaning, and at the same time, not enough. The information—the bomb Madeline had just dropped—was difficult to process. My mind scrambled to compute.
“What?” I asked.
Madeline nodded, her fear-stricken gaze not leaving mine.