Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 55984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 280(@200wpm)___ 224(@250wpm)___ 187(@300wpm)
“Have you talked to Dad?”
“Not yet.”
“Well, you’d better do it soon. He’s not gonna want any surprises. Does he know you’re calling me back?”
I want to put my fist through the wall. I hate being fucking bound by my family. “No.”
“Talk to him first, Nico. I don’t want to get in the middle of your shit pile.”
“I’ll fucking talk to him!” I snap. “You get on a fucking plane to Vegas.”
“Si, signore.” Stefano’s voice is dry, but I know he won’t hold a real grudge over me being a dick.
I start to hang up without a goodbye, but then I bring the phone back to my ear. “Grazie, Fratello.”
“Good to hear from you, Nico. I’m glad you found someone.” Stefano’s voice has gone soft. “And you’re still a stronzo.”
Yes, I am an asshole. “Always.”
He snorts and hangs up and I’m left smiling into the phone, which is about as uncharacteristic for me as doing a jig in a leprechaun suit.
I head out on the floor, where I have at least six fucking issues to take care of, in addition to wooing three big spender whales.
I stop short.
Sondra sits at the bar in a slinky red dress, her shapely legs punctuated with a pair of sexy black heels. She pulled her hair up into a sophisticated French twist and is drinking a martini.
As if that isn’t enough to absorb, there’s a guy sitting next to her, leaning in and making conversation.
I’m going to kill the fucker.
“Mr. Tacone, Jeff Blue has been asking to speak with you about a private game.” One of my managers is at my elbow.
Merda.
No, maybe it’s for the best. I need to calm down. I can’t go rip the guy off the barstool and smash his head in just for talking to my girl.
What is she doing?
I move swiftly toward Jeff Blue and force myself to act civil. This is a man who drops ten to fifty thousand a night when he’s in my establishment. I make time for him when he comes.
I don’t even know what I say to him, because the whole time my eye is on the sexy blonde at the bar. Before I pull away, though, the other whale joins us. He recognizes Jeff and wants in on a private game.
Fuck.
Private games are great. I make a killing. But they require a helluva lot of security and handholding. This is why I need Stefano here.
I’m gnawing through my leash when some other asshole sits on the other side of Sondra. She rotates in her chair and sees me, but all I get is a fucking smile and a fresh crossing of her stocking-clad legs.
Oh shit.
She’s jerking me on purpose.
I blink, my mind going to white fuzz for a moment. I’m less frantic than I am pissed now.
Tony comes over to tell me about a new fucking emergency with an attempted scam in the back room.
I step away from the whales and yank him to the side. “Get Sondra out of here and in my suite now. If I see another fucking guy talking to her, I’m gonna lose my shit.”
“Got it, boss. Leo and Sal are in the back room dealing with the con. You want me to come there when I’m done?”
“No, I’ll need you on the private game as soon as I get it arranged.”
“Understood.”
I leave without looking back at Sondra again, because if I do, someone’s going to lose their teeth.
Sondra
This was a horrible idea. I thought the ploy worked for a brief moment, when I sensed Nico’s stare burning through my back, but he never came over, and when he left, he looked pissed.
And now his strong-arm is heading my way.
Tony steps up and looks at the guys sitting on either side of me. “Get lost.”
One of them sputters with anger, the other slinks away like a stray dog caught stealing food.
“Do you want me to go?” Angry man demands.
I nod. “Yeah, you’d better.”
He puffs up his chest. “Are you afraid of this guy?”
“Really. You should go. It was nice talking to you.” I make my voice polite but firm. The guy is drunk enough to do something stupid, and I definitely don’t want any kind of violence on my hands. “I’m fine.”
He frowns, but when Tony takes a menacing step forward, decides to cut his losses and leave.
“Boss wants you upstairs, in his suite.”
Oh, now that raises my hackles. “Excuse me?” He didn’t even have the fucking time to come over and talk to me himself? And now he’s sending me up to his suite? Bullshit.
Tony holds his hands up, palms out. “Hey, I don’t want to be in the middle of a lover’s spat. I have orders to get you up there. Nico has five fires burning or I’m sure he’d be over here himself.”
Hearing about Nico’s stress dampens my anger. Is it really fair of me to attempt to draw his attention away from his business?