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PROLOGUE

RAHMELO KING

Royal Flush never really closed. It just slowed down making money. By three in the morning, the poker tables were empty. My dealers were counting chips, and my bartenders were wiping counters down. The jazz music played softly in the background as I made my final walk through.

“Night, Boss,” one of my dealers said.

“See you tomorrow, Rah,” another said.

Nobody called me Mr. King. I hated it. That was my father's name. I treated everyone like family, and that’s how I liked it. All I wanted to be called was Rah.

“Rah,” one of my dealers called me to the side.

“Wassup?”

“I’m short,” he said.

“How much you short?” I asked.

“Three hundred.”

“You stealing from me?”

“Hell nah, Rah! Lady hit for forty-five, and I fucked ‘round and counted wrong.”

I looked him dead in his eyes. “If I ever catch you stealing, I’ma bury you under this bitch. Learn from this.”

I peeled five hundred out of my pocket.

“Square the drawer and take yo ass home.”

“I got you tomorrow, Rah.”

“Nah, we good. Just keep in mind what I said.”

I stepped into my suite and poured myself a double shot of cognac. This was my kingdom. How I took care of my family. I looked from my office over the main floor as I took my shot down. My phone went off on my desk.

Wifey: You coming home or sleeping with the cards tonight?”

I laughed before sitting my cup down to respond.

Me: Leaving now. Don’t be funny.

Wifey: You got five minutes before I lock our bedroom door.

Me: Ky, I’m comin’

Kyenna hearted my message. I slipped my phone in my pocket, grabbed my keys and locked up my office. There was never a night that the Royal Flush was more important than my marriage or family. It took a lot of sacrifice and long nights, but I was never too busy to not sleep in my own bed.

“Rah, thank you for sending that money and flowers after my mama’s surgery,” my bartender said.

“We’re family. How is she?”

“She’s up and walking now.”

“Good, let me know if she needs anything.”

My head of security stopped me at the back door.