Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Assuming we can leverage him enough.”
“We’ll dig up even more dirt in the meantime. Don’t worry about that. Tony’s as filthy as they come.”
“This feels soft,” I admit like I’m spitting on the floor.
“That’s true, but anyone can pull a trigger. It doesn’t make you strong. Taking control of Tony, making him suffer, bleeding some benefit out of him, that’s what a real Don would do.”
I grunt in reply. Will pats my shoulder before walking off. I stay at the bar a little longer before I take out my phone and send a text.
Adler: Are you busy?
Casey: Just finished up some time on the tables. What’s up?
Adler: Meet me at home.
Adler: I’m feeling stressed.
Casey: Is this a booty call?
Adler: Yes.
Casey: I’m into it.
Adler: Good. See you soon.
I finish my drink, stand up, and shove my phone in my pocket.
A real Don, a real husband, a real family man.
I feel the pieces click into place, and I see a path forward from the dark forest I’ve been stuck inside for the past seven years. It’s not easy—there are twists and turns I’d rather not travel—but this is how I’ll grow.
All I have to do is walk.
Chapter 42
Casey
One Year Later
The Sunrise is packed floor to ceiling with men and women in business-casual outfits streaming around the slot machines and gaming tables. Not many are gambling—though a few adventurous souls were doing a great job losing money at the blackjack table—and all eyes are glued on the television screens.
“How much are we losing again?” I ask Adler as he brings me a club soda with lime, my tenth of the evening. “Revenue-wise from closing down the casino for the night?”
“A lot,” he says, hugging me against him. “But this isn’t about the casino.”
I grumble that maybe it should be, even though I know it’s right.
The center of all the action is down in the sports book, though tonight there aren’t any sports on the enormous wall-sized TV screens. Instead, it’s CNN droning on about projections, polls, and election results, as the numbers stream into their studio.
And at the base of all those screens, shaking hands, laughing it up, grinning like a maniac, is Tony Vetch.
“Did you ever think we’d see that guy in here?” I ask.
Adler grunts in reply. “I’m going to have the entire place fumigated once he’s gone.”
“We might as well burn it down.”
“Good point. Once the creatures are inside, there’s no getting rid of their stench.”
I snort-laugh and let out a long breath. “All right, that’s enough standing. My knees are killing me.” I press a hand against my pregnant belly. “Who knew that adding a thousand pounds of weight would make all my injuries worse?”
Adler practically carries me to the nearest bar, snarls at a guy in suspenders to fuck off, and gets me sitting down. I smile at him apologetically, not sure if he was important, but the guy hurries away.
“Thank you, husband,” I say and give him a prim kiss, but before he can pull back, I grab his hair and keep him in place. “When this baby is out of me, I am going to thank you so fucking hard.”
“Don’t worry, love, we both know I do all the thanking.”
“Did you say spanking?”
“You have a hearing problem.”
“I guess so.” He grins as I release him. I lean back, rubbing my knee, and watch Tony prowling around.
I hate that he’s here.
Not because I’m afraid of him—what happened last year is very much in the past now—but because he’s such an odious part of our business.
I don’t like having any associations with the guy.
But I’ll admit, he’s useful. He’s already making introductions for Adler, breaking the Costa family into a new elite level of influence. Meanwhile, Vetch’s own organization has all but crumbled as his attention has shifted from street-level Atlantic City brawling to transforming himself into a respectable politician.
He even has a new wife—an anchor on some small-time online news start-up with hair so stiff from spray it might as well be straw. They’re perfect together.
This whole show is his ultimate weakness: he wants to be a politician more than anything in the world, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to achieve his goals. That includes taking my money and my patronage—and letting me own him. Making a deal is all about finding what the other party wants and giving it to them—and extracting everything in return.
As Tony’s procession moves past, Adler raises a hand. Tony looks over—and spots the two of us sitting nearby. He excuses himself and hurries over, grinning the whole time.
“Thank you for hosting this, Adler,” he says, shaking my husband’s hand.
“You know where we stand,” Adler replies, talking very softly so only Tony and I can hear. “And you know your place. I need to remind you what will happen if you decide to step out of line.”