At five o’clock, my computer screen flashed big red letters that said WARNING over and over again. When I hit the return key to dismiss the obvious prank, an upside down Italian flag replaced the cautionary message.

The intercom button rang, the buzz replaced by Mrs. Price’s voice. “I’m leaving,” she said.

I pushed button number one and responded, “Have a great night.” My attention went back to the computer monitor. I’d left a door open to my computer in case Katya wanted to walk in and play games with me, but this was more than a game. She knew better than to throw out a distress signal. In our world, no one cried wolf unless the beast was ready to take its first bite.

I stared at the flag for minutes, trying to decipher the message. Was she in trouble? I seriously doubted that. The woman was like a polished iron fist. She was pretty to look at but deadly if she hit you.

“What’s your game, sweetheart?” I pushed the button on the bookcase behind my chair and waited for the wall to shift to display a fully stocked bar. With the bottle of Beluga Vodka and a glass in my hand, I returned to my computer and stared at the flag on my screen.

The first shot of vodka went down rough, but the second was smooth. Turns out I liked more than Russian women.

As I thought about the sassy blonde with the perfect breasts, I considered her message. Katya was Russian. If she were in danger, surely she would have sent the Russian flag upside down. Instead, she sent the Italian flag. It was a warning to me.

I picked up the phone and called Alex. He answered on the second ring.

“What’s up?”

I leaned in to the screen to make sure nothing was hidden between the red, white and green stripes.

“I think Katya sent me a message—a warning.” As I sat back, I smiled. I was a true Italian through and through because I knew the flag was upside down at first glance. The stripes were backward with the red stripe first, which was wrong.

“What do you mean?”

I told Alex what I’d received. “Stay away from the Petrenkos. She’s warning you for a reason. In fact, stay away from Katya.”

A growl escaped. “How can you not want to help her? She saved your wife?”

Alex sighed loudly. “It’s not that I don’t want to help her, but there’s no way to help her without declaring war with the Russians. We no longer have the manpower to survive. I’ll call Agent Holt and tell him something is going down.”

It was funny that my brother still called his father-in-law Agent Holt. After a family dinner Sunday night with him, Katya, and the others, I had to accept that Michael Holt wasn’t a bad man. He was just doing his job when he arrested me.

“Fine,” I said in resignation. Alex was right. He’d shut down the “family business” and turned us legit in a matter of months. I owed him to try to keep it that way.

“You promised, Matt. You said you’d walk the straight and narrow. There’s no way we all survive if you don’t.”

The truth was a razor-sharp blade to my heart. While turning my back on Katya felt wrong, disrespecting my brother’s wishes was worse. Katya wasn’t family. Alex and my baby brother Rafe were all I had left in the world.

I pressed escape, and the flag disappeared along with thoughts of the petite blonde with the big attitude.

Sam walked inside. “You want dinner, Boss?” While I sat drinking vodka, poor Sam was starving to death.

“Sure, I can order room service unless you want to take a break and head down to the cafeteria.”

“I could stretch my legs if you think you’ll be okay while I’m gone.”

I pulled my gun from the top drawer. Funny how I was supposed to toe the line, and the first thing my brother handed me when I got to his house was a weapon. He knew it was illegal for an ex-felon to carry a firearm, but I suppose he weighed the risk against the reward. In this case, being able to protect myself was a fine reward. We may be out of the mob business, but that didn’t stop others from wanting what we had.

“I’ll be okay. I’m going to finish up here and then head back to the apartment. Stella is making pasta if you want to join me there.”

Sam gave me a look that said it all. He was an employee, not a friend.

I closed the bar, picked up my computer and walked down the corridor to my new apartment. Hard to believe Dad was gone. Harder yet to believe I was in charge of Old Money Casino. With the flash of a keycard, I walked inside my new home. The air smelled like garlic and fresh bread.

Stella rushed from the kitchen wearing an apron that said, “Kiss the Cook”, so I did. A big, wet one on her cheek.

She rambled in Italian. I was rusty with the language after spending years in a cell with a guy who only spoke English—and not well. But I got the gist of what she was saying. It was something about making all my favorite foods.

She led me to the dining room table designed for twenty and set for one. There was no way I’d sit at the massive table and eat by myself, so I picked up the plate and headed for the tiny café table in the kitchen.

“You should eat in the dining room. It’s where you belong.” She stirred the pasta sauce on the stove.

“I don’t want to eat alone.” I glanced at the table she’d set for herself and placed my silverware and plate across from hers. “You’re family and we eat together.”

The corners of her mouth lifted into a smile. “Go change. I remember how you eat, and that shirt is too nice to ruin.”

“Thanks for your confidence. You know I’m nearly thirty, right?” I tugged at the tie Mrs. Price had to fix this morning.

“You know I helped raise you, right?” she countered. “Now get out while I finish dinner.” She brandished a spoon covered in red sauce and chased me out of the kitchen.

My first few nights of freedom were spent at Alex’s house. Tonight was the first night I’d spend alone. With a few minutes to spare, I walked through the apartment. It was silly to call it that since it took up an entire wing of the floor. With at least a dozen bedrooms, a library, office, gym and sauna, it was bigger than most houses in Vegas.

Of the three of us, I probably spent the most time here. Dad wasn’t really social. If you were invited to his home, it was because he had something for you to do or you were in trouble. I’d spent plenty of time on both ends of that equation.

In the living room decorated in old-world charm, I moved to the window that looked over the strip. It was in this exact place I stood when Dad told me he’d agreed to a marriage between Katya and Alex. That was the day I hated him the most.

While I’d never dated Katya, I’d crushed on her since we were little. Despite our families being at war with one another, we often ended up in the same social settings, so we learned to get along. The first time she walked into a party wearing a red dress and heels, I was a goner. I was twenty-one, and she was sixteen—too young to approach, but sexy enough to admire from a distance. Over the years, each time I entered a place I knew she’d be, she was the first person I sought in the crowd. Just over three years ago, in this same spot, my father said that once Alex and Katya were married, the two families would work together. That’s the day he sent me over to Yuri’s to find out who was stealing from the Russian mobster. Also the day I realized it was Katya.

Yuri knew I could track the person down to a splice of DNA if I had to, so when I refused to tell him who had pilfered his cash, he set me up and turned me in. That was the beginning of the end or maybe it was the beginning of the beginning because everything changed.

Walking into the master bedroom felt surreal. It was the king’s lair. Decorated in dark, rich colors, it spoke of wealth and power. While it wasn’t the same as when Dad was here, I still felt his presence, only he was no longer the king. I was.

Ten minutes later, dressed in jeans and a black T-shirt to hide the pasta sauce I would spill on myself, I joined Stella for spaghetti and meatballs.

“I miss Faye,” she said.

“You see her all the time.” I twirled spaghetti on my fork and shoved the big bite into my mouth.

Stella gave me a dirty look. “Don’t tell me you lost your manners in that horrid place.”

I nearly choked. I might be rounding thirty, but Stella made me feel like a kid. “Sorry.” I hung my head. “It’s so good though.”

“It looks like I won’t be missing Faye too much if I have to retrain you.”

“You love having someone to care for, and you know it.” Stella had been around longer than I had. She’d served the Wildes her whole life. “Maybe you should get a boyfriend.”

She yanked at the hair curling by my collar. “Maybe I should get the soap for your mouth. I don’t need a man. I have my boys.” She smiled with the pride of a mother. “But I liked having a woman around. I liked having a daughter to spoil.” She smiled wide. “You’ll have to bring me one.”

I laughed around my partially chewed garlic bread, which not only got me a scowl but a yank to the ear.

“Don’t hold your breath. There are no women on my radar.” Except Katya. Only she was off limits.

“I won’t hold my breath, but I won’t give up hope that the right woman will land in your lap.”

I finished my dinner, and despite Stella’s complaints, I helped her clean the kitchen. She headed to her quarters while I walked to Dad’s office with my computer. Something was off with Katya, and although I wasn’t supposed to get involved, nothing said I couldn’t snoop.

On the wall in front of the desk hung fifteen monitors. It was the same system in the office. Dad liked to have his eyes on everything. Too bad Yuri wasn’t as smart. While Katya let me in the door, it was his lack of firewalls that let me into his accounts. The money he amassed was significant. Yuri was doing okay for himself these days. With the touch of a button, I could make it disappear, but what was the fun in that?

I scrolled through his expenses. He loved his tailor, his masseuse, and the escort service he spent thousands on weekly. It gave me a chuckle that he had to pay someone for sex. Most men with his kind of money got it free. Hell, the man ran his own brothels, and he still had to pay.

While I was in his accounts, it made sense to me to make sure Yuri gave back to the community he took from. I set up automatic payments to several charities. Money would go to Alcoholics Anonymous, the Human Trafficking Fund, and the Widows of Warriors Fund. It was the least I could do with Yuri’s money. I made sure the amounts were enough to make a difference, but not so much that it would alert anyone. It simply looked like Yuri was being philanthropic.

I heard my mother’s voice in my head say; Don’t expect anyone to do something you wouldn’t do yourself.

I went into the Old Money Casino accounts. While we weren’t in the financial shape that Yuri was since we became a legitimate enterprise, we weren’t hurting for cash. I transferred a large sum of money to Gambler’s Anonymous.

Feeling like I’d accomplished something, I leaned back and kicked my feet up on the desk. The screens in front of me changed every few minutes. It was like watching a video game where a lot passed me by unnoticed. Then a flash of red caught my attention.

My feet dropped to the floor, and I rushed to the screen that held an image of Capone’s. Staring straight at the monitor was Katya, surrounded by four fierce looking Bratva soldiers.