Chapter 19

Greyson

I opened the car door for Skylar, and she stepped out wearing the same skirt and tank top she had originally come to my place in two days earlier. We were outside The Citrine, and it was Tara who took my keys and parked my car in the underground for me. She gave me a wink when she spotted Skylar, and I shooed her away with a friendly wave.

At the top of the steps, just outside the casino doors, I pulled Skylar into me and stared into her bright green eyes. “When do I get to see you again before you go?” Skylar bit her lip. I put my finger under her chin and lifted her face to mine. I kissed her slowly, not caring if anyone saw. “Soon?”

She nodded, her eyes still closed when she pulled away. “Tomorrow? Then I leave the next day. My flight is in the afternoon.”

“Tomorrow it is,” I said, releasing her hands.

“Okay, I’ll talk to you soon,” she said, turning away and walking through the doors. She looked back at me before disappearing through another set of revolving doors.

I waited a minute before entering myself. Saying goodbye to her was going to be rough.

I made my way around the fountain in the lobby and through the casino. Familiar faces greeted me with warm smiles, and all staff members who spotted me waved as I passed. I returned their enthusiasm with as much as I could muster, which wasn’t much compared to usual.

Soon, I was opening the door to the security room. Meek was there, already shrugging into his jacket. Cameron, one of my other best security guys, was in the chair watching the monitors. His blond head turned to me, and he gave me a curt nod. “Hey, Mr. Kline,” he said.

“Cameron,” I said in greeting. “How’s it going?”

“Good, keeping busy. How about you?”

“The same,” I said, catching Meek’s eye. “We should head out. Talk to you later, Cameron.”

Cameron never took his eyes off the monitors, but he waved over his shoulder as Meek and I left.

We went to my office, where I had already requested our lunches be delivered. When we arrived, two takeout boxes were sitting on my desk. We set to opening everything up, and Meek started in on his souvlaki meal.

I didn’t have much of an appetite. I was worrying over the black SUV, and on top of that, my heart felt like it was in a vice as Skylar’s departure quickly approached. I poked my food around and waited until Meek was done eating.

As he dabbed his mouth with a napkin, he peered at my dish. “Are you not hungry?” he asked.

“Not really,” I said, pushing the box away from myself and leaning back in the chair. “How is it?”

“Good,” Meek said, following suit by leaning back and clasping his hands across his stomach. “Now. Shall we talk business?”

“Yes,” I said. “Let’s.”

I had asked Meek to get as much information on the black SUV as possible, and I was eager to hear what he had found out. He was my most reliable employee, and he had never let me down. Had he not worked for me, I would have suggested he become a private detective.

“I reviewed the security footage of all the times the vehicle has been on the premises. It’s a lot, boss. Nearly nine times since the incident. I have confirmed that the owner of the car is a man by the name of Luccio Bravo. He is the man who stole from you. The one who called himself John.”

“I remember,” I said. “Gold tooth, tall guy.”

“That’s the one.” Meek nodded.

“Why does Bravo sound so familiar?” I asked. The name wasn’t sitting right. Not right at all.

“Luccio is Don Bravo’s son, Greyson. This is hot water we’re in here.”

Don Bravo. “Shit,” I breathed.

Meek nodded, and the two of us sat in tense silence for a moment.

Don Bravo was a common name amongst Las Vegas business owners. He was part of the mob. In fact, he was the head of the mob. He had ruled the Las Vegas underground silently for the past fifteen years or so. It was rare that he was ever spotted out and about. I had only seen him once, and that was at the grand opening of the casino The Citrine used to be. The Lionhead. This was before my uncle owned it.

I pinched the bridge of my nose and closed my eyes. “I should have listened to you when you told me to take it seriously.”

Meek didn’t say anything. I was grateful for his silence. He knew now was not the time to rub in the fact that he had been right.

“What do you suggest I do?” I asked, opening my eyes again to meet my friend’s stare.

But I only saw his eyes for a second.

Over his shoulder, I could see the silhouette of a man on the other side of my office door. The door handle turned, and the door swung inward.

Meek turned in his seat and the two of us stared at the man in the door frame.

He was tall. Quite tall. He was dressed all in black like the first time I had met him. His black trousers were well-tailored and boasted pale gray pinstripes down the length of them. His dress shoes were shined and pointed. His black shirt was tucked into a silver-buckled belt, and I found myself wondering, strangely, if he had ever used that belt to hurt someone. I didn’t doubt his cruelty. I could see it in his eyes. I knew that he wanted to hurt me. He wanted to hurt anyone who stood in the way of what he wanted.

His arms hung by his sides, and I could see fresh scabs over all his knuckles. Upon closer inspection, I could also see the pale white line of a scar in his eyebrow and upper lip. A fresher cut raced along his throat.

This man had done terrible things. Some of those things, apparently, had happened recently.

His blond hair was slicked back in its usual style, and the crooked snarl he wore exposed his one gold-capped tooth. Since entering the room, he hadn’t taken his menacing stare off me.

“Hello, Greyson,” Luccio said. “I told you that you would see me again soon.”

Meek got to his feet. I followed.

“I’ve been seeing you on a near-daily basis for a week,” I said, my voice flat. “And to be honest with you, I’m getting a bit tired of it. Did you think the blacked-out Chevy was inconspicuous?”

“You owe me my money,” Luccio snarled, ignoring my jab about the car.

“I owe you nothing,” I retorted, my own voice colored with anger now. I had to control it. I couldn’t let him get the best of me here. There were too many people around, and he was unpredictable. No one had been hurt yet, and I wanted to keep it that way.

Meek was tense between us. His silence and stillness unnerved me. I didn’t want this to resort to a physical altercation. Especially now that I knew who this man was. Meek’s life was in more danger than mine. Luccio needed me alive to get the money. Meek was only in the way.

“You will pay me my money, or you will suffer the consequences.”

“Get out of here,” Meek growled.

Luccio’s dark eyes slid to my friend. I didn’t like this. I really didn’t like this. My palms were sweating. My mouth was intolerably dry to the point where my tongue on the roof of my mouth felt like cheap sandpaper. My head was spinning.

“Sit down, Meek,” I said.

Meek shot me a wide stare. There was defiance written all over his face. He wanted to disobey me. I could read his thoughts as if they were my own: You fucked up the first time when you didn’t take this guy seriously. Don’t make the same mistake twice.

“I said sit down.”

Meek broke my stare and sat. He perched himself on the very edge of the chair so that if he had to, he could launch himself forward. His knuckles were white as he clutched the armrests. I knew that all he wanted was to pummel Luccio to pieces right there on my office floor.

I wanted the same thing, but the risk was too great, and the life I was playing with was not my own.

“You have a better head on those shoulders than I suspected,” Luccio said, looking back at me. “As I was saying, you will pay me my money by tomorrow night. A check for the due amount will arrive in the afternoon. You just need to sign, and I’ll send someone to pick it up. Easy. No reason it shouldn’t be done. Unless, of course, you like a little bit of drama. I’m pretty good at drama.”

This was serious. The son of a formidable mob boss was threatening me, and I didn’t doubt his follow through. If it came down to it, I knew he would exact his revenge. If he came after me, I would do what I could to fight him, but I worried that denying him was risking Meek’s life, or the life of some of my staff.

Even so, I couldn’t bring myself to submit to him. My pride wouldn't allow it. I wasn’t going to give a hundred thousand dollars to the mob. That would not be my legacy.

“I’m not giving you anything,” I said firmly.

Luccio’s sneer stretched his cheeks. “You are making the wrong decision.”

“Perhaps,” I said. I wasn’t going to indulge him with any more words than necessary.

We stared at one another for a while. His eyes were hard and angry, and I never looked away. His jaw was clenched and so were his battered fists, I realized. I wondered dimly if he had a weapon on him. Maybe he was crazy enough to shoot me dead right here, right now.

At least I wouldn’t have to endure saying goodbye to Skylar.

I realized how insane the thought was seconds after it had already raced through my mind.

I straightened to my full height and then nodded at the door behind him. “Get out.” My voice sounded venomous in my own ears.

Meek looked from me to Luccio. The mobster wasn’t moving. His sneer had curled into a smile, and he began to laugh as he shook his head. “You are a fool,” he said. “But lucky for me, I enjoy this kind of… negotiation. I’ll be in touch, Greyson. Don’t go anywhere, all right?”

“I’ll be right here,” I said.

Luccio chuckled and slipped out the door. I listened to his footfalls on the linoleum floors of the hallway as he left. Then his voice floated back to us. “What about that pretty girlfriend of yours? Where will she be?”

Meek was on his feet. I shook my head at him as he went to make for the door. “Wait,” I said. “Let him go.”

“Let him go?” Meek asked incredulously.

“He could be armed,” I said.

“I’m armed,” Meek spat.

“Not with a gun you aren’t. He’s not the sort I want to mess with. He means business. Get your jacket. We need to go.”

“Go?” Meek asked. “Go where?”

“The bank.”

“I thought you weren’t going to pay him?” Meek asked as he grabbed his jacket and hurried to follow me out the door.

“I don’t intend to, but I want to be prepared for the worst.”

“This is idiotic,” Meek growled, grabbing my arm as we entered the hallway. “You can’t let him come in here and—”

I stopped walking and turned on my friend. “If you were in my shoes, Matthew, and you were responsible for all the people in this building, what would you do? You’d take him down, right there? You’d paint a target on your back so fucking big they could see it from space? I’m not jeopardizing anyone because of this asshole. Do you hear me?”

Meek’s mouth twitched.

“If you have something to say, spit it out,” I said.

My anger was at the surface. Meek wasn’t the one I was mad at, but I needed somewhere to put it, and his incessant need to question my decisions was enough to make my blood boil.

“I hear you,” Meek said.

“Good. Come on.”

We hurried down the hall together, mouths tightly shut, hearts racing, and thoughts absorbed in the confrontation we had just escaped.