As the limousine came to a stop right in front of the revolving glass doors of the Casinò Staklena Fontana, security guards in black suits immediately roped off the area. My men waited for my instructions before opening the door for me. Brian Hexel had already exited the second limousine and was now giving instructions to the guards on duty. I moved forward into the casino, ignoring the curious stares and whispers from the guests waiting in the line to go inside.

“Who is he?” “They’ve blocked everything to let him in.” “Is he a celebrity?” The unsuspecting guests had many, many questions.

I was anything but a celebrity. Far from it actually. Nonetheless, the uniformed casino workers cleared a path for me to move through as quickly as possible.

In addition to Brian, who was my best Enforcer and head of my security detail, three of my men followed me inside the building while another three remained behind with the limos.

I passed across the black and silver patterned carpets, a line of casino staff, and the same greeting over and over again: “Good evening, Mr. Arnou.” I made a beeline for the elevators, and one of my men pressed the button.

The main level of the casino was open to the public. There were five other levels. Located on the second floor was the VIP level. The administrative offices were on the top level. There was also a parking garage and a basement on the lower levels.

Adjacent to the casino was a resort and spa which was also part of the same portfolio. I called it the Waltman portfolio. Waltman had managed this particular portfolio for many years. He had significant experience in the hospitality and entertainment industry, so he handled it quite well. His salary was also linked to portfolio profits, so in that, he had no choice.

I was pleased with the presentation of the casino. The decor. The sound of the dealers shuffling cards. The chime of the slot machines. I hadn’t been here in almost a year. I preferred the hands-off approach when it came to overseeing my businesses, allowing my associates to rack up profits by any means necessary. And rack up profits, they did…and they were paid handsomely. My business associates were all aware that whenever I paid a visit, something had either gone terribly wrong or wonderfully right. Unfortunately, I wasn’t here because of the latter.

The elevator finally reached me, and I stepped inside. I pushed the button to go down to the basement where all the underground dealings of Waltman went down. As long as he paid his business dues, pulled in the required profits for his portfolio, and followed the rules of COBRA, I turned a blind eye to his extracurricular activities on the casino properties. However, we both understood that the property was mine. Nothing was off limits to me.

Waltman’s security guards recognized me instantly. They moved aside without question, and I entered a master code to unlock the basement door.

As soon as I entered the room, a wave of silence fell over the area. I had to hand it to Waltman. The guy had his own little personal gambling space set up quite nicely—like a private party away from the general chaos on the levels above him.

”Arnou,” Waltman mouthed when he saw me. A cigar went lax in his mouth. He placed his cards face down on the table. ”I wasn't expecting you.”

“No?” I looked at him, pretending to be surprised. “Are you sure about that or were you hoping I’d let this one slide?”

Waltman’s Adam’s apple rose and then fell slowly. His heart beats were rapid now, but of course, only the shifters in the room had picked up on the sudden change in his demeanor.

Waltman stood. “If you like, we can talk about this in more private quarters.”

“Nema potrebe,” I told him.

“What did he say?” Waltman questioned Dinsel, who now stood directly to the left of him.

“There’s no need for that,” Dinsel translated.

“Why don’t we talk here? Certainly, there’s room for one more to play the game,” I said, approaching the table.

On cue, one of Waltman’s men got up, nearly tripping over his feet to put some space between him and me. I took his seat. The room had become so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Even the whores had stopped cackling and dancing.

“Sit.” I pointed to Waltman’s chair.

He sat. “Yes, yes…why don’t you join us? Mary, bring the boss a bourbon. Starlight and Candy, make all of his friends feel welcome by giving them top notch service if they desire it.”

Before I could explain to Waltman that I hadn’t come to be entertained by prostitutes, one of them had already ventured my way.

“I prefer the boss with the sexy accent, not his friends,” she said, moving too close for comfort.

The moment she lay a finger on me, one of my guards corrected her, shaking his head and carting her off to the side.

“Everyone out of the room. Now. Except for Waltman…and you…” I pointed to the fellow who had gotten up from his chair.

Once everyone was out of the room, I asked, “Do you know why I’m here?”

Waltman shook his head slowly, his gaze lingering on everything else in the room except for me. He couldn’t even look me in the eye for one moment.

”I…um…I know my profit margins have stalled recently, but I'm working on it. I'm going to decide on the new VP of operations first thing Monday morning, and I assure you everything will be back to normal come winter season.”

“I see…”

“You did get the memo I sent about Padre, didn’t you?”

“What happened to Padre?”

Waltman’s eyes shifted again. “Roarke, mix us some drinks. Looks like the boss and I are gonna be here all night.” He then turned to me and asked, “How about that bourbon? Roarke, why don’t you make it house-style?”

“I assure you I won’t be here all night. I have other portfolios to review in Philly,” I said. “I asked you one simple question.”

“He was murdered,” Waltman stated. “Home invasion or something like that. Wife and another went out with him too. Isn’t that a shame? Maybe he shouldn’t have flaunted so much wealth. I told him to take it easy after the raise he got, but it seems that he couldn’t handle himself.”

By this time, Roarke had returned with the drinks, sliding one glass of bourbon to Waltman and then one to me. Waltman picked up his glass immediately and took a healthy swig. He glanced at me from over the glass.

“Don’t worry, boss. I know all the protocols when it comes to selecting a new VP. I already have two lined up. Would you like to see their credentials?” he asked.

“Where are the keys to the vault?”

Waltman’s mouth fell open. “Why?”

“Perhaps I wasn’t clear. The keys. To the vault and everything else for that matter. Now.”

Waltman produced the keys. About three dozen of them were hooked on a huge metal ring.

“What’s going on?”

“You won’t be returning to work on Monday morning—”

“Please…don’t do this.”

“Lažovčino. That’s what you are, Waltman. A liar. And I hate liars. They’re always up to no good,” I told him.

Waltman clasped his palms together and pleaded. “I’ll tell you everything I know. Please, just…I want to work. I need this job.”

Why hadn’t he started talking already? Enough with the lies.

“Počni da pričaš!” I ordered him to speak.

“What?”

My temper flared which didn’t bode well for Waltman. I’d been trying to contain my frustration since the moment I got on the jet to leave my home.

I reached into my blazer and pulled out my Ruger. Without taking my hand off the weapon, I turned it so that the barrel of the silencer was pointing at Waltman.

“Pričaj! Talk. I don’t have all night,” I told him.

“It started with Jovan…”

I cringed when I heard the name. The last time I had seen my wayward cousin was on the day he’d revealed to me that he’d made allies with a very powerful witch who had converted him and his crew. Jovan and his cronies were now men who could shift into wolves. We called them the Converted. They were an entirely different breed. Neither Caedmon. Nor Arnou.

“He was here…in the casino…about a month ago. Remember the cleanup I told you about? He and his crew came through and had a party at the hotel. When it was all said and done, seven prostitutes were found murdered in their suite the morning after. You should have seen the pictures. It was a bloodbath. As if animals had come in and torn through everything,” Waltman exclaimed.

“Except when you told me about the incident, you failed to mention the bloodbath and Jovan. You had the entire thing covered up quickly. Why?”

Waltman paused, his gaze dropping to his lap.

“You’ve been working this portfolio for years. You knew about Jovan’s betrayal. You did get that memo, didn’t you? The first one from three years ago when he and Goran executed Vincent. And then most recently when I sent the memo about heightened security and not allowing the Zovics near anything.”

“I—”

“You disregarded both memos. I have reason to believe that you haven’t entirely cut your ties with Jovan.”

“Let me explain…”

“No, you’ve explained quite enough,” I interjected. “Your efforts to sweep your betrayals under the rug have been futile. I warned all associates, including yourself, to pick their side wisely. It seems you picked the wrong side…yes?”

Waltman swallowed visibly. “I was terrified of what he had become.”

“What he had become…?”

Waltman nodded. “Right after Vincent got wacked, Jovan went ballistic. Not even Goran could talk him down from his state of mind. He always needed money and wanted loans…”

“And you were supplying him with money…my money. What did he promise you?”

“Uh…given the circumstances, I don’t think this is relevant.”

I pulled back the hammer on the gun. “What did he promise?”

“He promised me nothing. He and his father were the ones who hired me in the first place.”

“So you gave him sanctuary?”

“Of sorts, yes.” Waltman shrugged. “I mean, what could he do to you? He’s virtually penniless. And powerless. Except for those gang of vagabonds he now runs with, he has nothing. The former boss, his father is dead.”

“That’s because he shot his father.”

“You lie! He wouldn’t kill his own father. Are the two of you in competition now?”

“Believe what you want. You’ve already chosen a side,” I said.

“And for choosing to help a former boss’s kid, you’re removing me from my position of authority. I get it.”

I shook my head. “No. You don’t get anything. Yes, you betrayed me by aiding an enemy and then you tried to cover it up. Numerous times. And when the VP questioned it…”

“How do you know about this?”

“Do you think I allow people in these positions without checking them out first? Just as much as you’d like to think that most of your subordinates are loyal to you, you’re absolutely wrong. In fact, this business runs as seamlessly as it does because of the executives working alongside you. I have eyes and ears in many places.”

“Padre…?” Waltman whispered.

“Yes, unlike you, Padre has been loyal to my family since the beginning.”

I didn’t need to add that Padre was also an Arnou pack member and had retired after twenty years of working as an Enforcer back when Jovan and Goran still retained leadership of the network and I was being groomed by Vincent.

“Padre found out what you were doing and how you were helping Jovan.”

Waltman held up his hands. “I’m not gonna help him anymore. I swear it. After he came in the casino tearing up shit and the way he murdered all those girls…I swear it. I’m done with the guy.”

“When the circumstances no longer benefit you…well, of course, you’re done. Why did you murder Padre? I thought you were done, so why couldn’t you man up to your mistakes and leave it be? I’m certain Padre warned you about the risks associated with crossing me.”

”I told you. I asked Padre to keep this between us. There was no need for him to go and rat me out when I’d already explained to him that my deal with Jovan was over. He insisted on coming to you with this burden,” he said.

“I see…”

“He must have told you before it happened,” Waltman concluded.

“It? You murder a helpless man—a man you called a friend—and refer to your murdering rampage as it?”

Waltman was speechless.

“Padre sent the memo stating the truth about what truly happened here with Jovan the night before you offed him.”

“Certainly we can work this out,” Waltman exclaimed.

“No. This isn’t the way you do business, Waltman. I’m beginning to think not very highly of you. There are others more deserving of your position. I’m a man of my word. I ask for very little. I expect you to follow some rules. And in return, I pay you. You lived quite extravagantly, didn’t you?”

“Look, I know you’ve been busy with the new acquisitions but—”

“I’ve been busy with disposals as well,” I interjected.

Waltman frowned. Fear rolled off him in waves. He knew good and well what I referred to as a disposal.

“Just hear me out. If you get rid of me, no one will be able to provide the amount of attention I can to this business. Who else but me has decades of experience with this, huh?” He waved his arm around. “You only know half of what I do here. The executives do follow my lead.”

“Do they now?” I used the butt of the gun to drag the set of keys closer to me. “Were they following your lead when they told me how you spend your nights here in this basement with no regrets about the way you destroyed the family of the man you called a friend?

“No friend of mine would threaten my livelihood. You of all people should understand. Look, I’m only having fun. I work and play here. This place is my livelihood. Try to find any man who’ll operate this place as I have, and you’ll fail. While you’re out busy planning your wedding with that barely legal, fresh, young piece of ass, I have been—”

He never finished his sentence. I leaned across the table and wrapped my fingers around his throat. He was so stumped, he nearly bit out his own tongue. I wanted to rip out his jugular and show him another bloodbath.

“Do not speak of her. Ever! Razumeš? Do you understand?”

While choking on his reply, Waltman nodded.

I dropped him back down in his seat and sat down.

“Now, where were we…?” I tapped my gun on the table. “Ah…you.” I pointed to the fellow named Roarke, who had stumbled out of my way earlier.

“Yes?” he mumbled, keeping his gaze on the floor.

I pointed to the bourbon he served me earlier. “Pij.”

Roarke looked perplexed.

“You don’t understand my language either. No matter. Stavi revolver na njegovu glavu, Dinsel.” On my orders, Dinsel put a gun to Roarke’s head. “Perhaps you understand my actions better. Now, shall I repeat myself?” I nudged the glass with the gun, sliding it to the edge of the table.

“Drink,” Dinsel commanded, pushing the silencer against Roarke’s temple.

Roarke’s gaze shifted between the bourbon glass to Waltman and then back again. Waltman didn’t say a word. The room was so quiet, we all heard when Dinsel pulled back the hammer of his gun to reinforce our demand. Hearts were beating wildly…in both anticipation and fear.

Roarke lifted the glass, tilting it up to his lips with a pinched expression on his face. He took a small sip and started to put the glass down.

“All of it,” I instructed.

With the threat of a bullet to his head, he chugged down the contents of the glass. I looked at my wristwatch to check the time before picking up the set of keys and handing it off to one of my Elites. I gave him instructions and told him who to put in charge until Waltman’s replacement was found. While I was giving orders, Roarke began to convulse uncontrollably. His eyes were bloodshot red. His lips were swollen. His hands were about his neck like his air supply had been cut off.

“Help,” he croaked.

I turned to glare at Waltman who looked mortified.

“Do you think I’m a fool? I was hundreds of miles away when you committed your acts of betrayal. It amuses me that you think you can fool me right before my eyes. Did you not think that I could smell the moment Roarke cracked the vial of poison open and poured it into my glass?”

Roarke’s heart finally stopped. He dropped dead some two feet away.

“I…I had nothing to do with it,” Waltman mumbled.

“That’s what you’ve been saying this whole time.” I laughed.

“Please.” Waltman removed his hands from under the table and held them up. “Another chance. I’ll do anything you want me to do.”

“You meant to kill me. Just like you did Padre and his wife. Seniors. Almost twice your age. Good people. But you didn’t stop there. There was a kid there. His grandson. You just had to massacre the whole lot of them.”

“Arnou—”

I bolted up, picked up the table and flung it to the other end of the room. It banged against the wall, slammed to the ground, and landed upside down, revealing a handgun secured on the underside with duck-tape. That same handgun had been the reason Waltman had been fumbling under the table so much. Not only did he have a Plan A, but he had a B and C, as well.

“You swore an oath. Do I need to remind you?” I asked. “We don’t execute women and children.”

“It was an accident.” Waltman dropped to his knees and began wailing.

“No lies. It makes you look like a pussy. Own up to your mistakes.” I put the gun to his head, silencing his protests. “Shut up! The payment for betrayal…do you happen to recall what that is?”

Waltman nodded.

“And just so we’re clear, I prefer Scotch sans poison,” I told him, before pulling the trigger and ending his life.