1937 Los Angeles.
(We peer inside a door marked with a name: Angelina Darlane, in the back of the club. It’s a dressing room. A young, pretty blond woman wearing a sweater over an evening gown looks up, and eyes us over her right shoulder)
I don’t rightly know where to begin, to be honest. I have become…aware of my brother Charles’ dealings, of course. It’s not like normal businessmen just go and park casino boats a few miles off the coast of California for, what, the adventure of it? Hm. As if I’m unaware of what goes on in this town.
What he’s doing, has been doing – it’s illegal. And I don’t care if– Well, that’s not entirely true. I do care, I care a lot when it comes down to it. The fact that the Mayor knows and allows this type of illicit gambling, taking his own cut in the process – is outright shameful. How he gets away with it!
I can’t even guess.
Hero, that is, Dash. He agrees with me. I can’t say I’m used to being considered in that way. Or at all. Most men treat me like I’m some kind of breakable plaything. A doll. Pretty to look at.
Something to own.
A possession to shut away from the world.
But, Dash is different. And despite his gruff demeanor and all his denials; when he holds me, I. *sigh* I’m being foolish.
The world is a dangerous place. Especially when you don’t have any cards. Charles’ hand is empty, it’s all a bluff – trying to stay in the game long enough to draw an Ace or maybe a Wild Card….
But, I don’t want Dash involved in any of that. He’s done his time. And even if it costs me everything, I’ll protect him – from the mafia, my brother’s ambitions, his past.
I’ll find a way to protect him from himself.
Even if I’m nothing more than a doll, I’m held together with bits of steel. And I’m far from breakable.
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