Chapter 12
Leon
Ipinch the bridge of my nose, letting out a loud sigh. Dom sits across from me on an extravagant chair in my front office, giving me the bad news. The location is the only novelty because what he’s saying is exactly the same thing he said the last five days.
“There is no new information on Luka’s whereabouts.”
“Where the fuck is he?” I mutter to myself.
“We’re doing our best. We hired five new people, all of whom are professionals. But it’s like he disappeared from the face of the Earth.” He winces, realizing what he said.
The thought crossed my mind more times than I could count. My brother, my only remaining family member, could be dead. Still, the more I think about it, the less I think it’s a possibility.
It wouldn’t make sense. If the Russians had killed Luka, we’d have already found him by now. What’s the point of killing him if they didn’t rub it in our faces?
But none of this makes sense. Why take him and not use him as leverage?
With another sigh, I grab the bottle of rakia that is now a permanent fixture on my desk and pour the two of us a glass.
I sip the drink slowly, reveling in the way it burns my throat and chest. My gaze picks up, and I barely suppress a laugh.
Even though he’s wearing an expensive, tailored to perfection suit, he doesn’t look like he belongs in here.
He’s too large, too rugged for the polished features of this office.
He was surprised when I asked for the meeting to be upstairs, but ever since I made Alex come on this very desk, I’ve been opting to spend my time here, rather than underground.
“Let’s move on,” I say, ending the topic of Luka’s disappearance.
“Toma’s men are still bitching about the fact that his death wasn’t avenged.”
“I would be more surprised if they weren’t.” Stipe, Uncle Toma’s main guy, has been trying to start a mutiny after he found out his precious leader is dead. Though I couldn’t care less about his opinions of me, I still have to be careful of him turning my men against me.
Dom continues. “We’ve replaced the two warehouses we lost, and it should be business as usual by the end of the week.”
“Unless someone leaks the address.” It wouldn’t be the first time. While Luka was still here, we had multiple warehouses destroyed, along with all the merch. Someone was leaking information, and we never really found out who.
“Only the select few are in on it, and they were all personally checked by Ivan or me.”
“What about Williams? Does he have any new intel?” A streak of red catches my eye on the surveillance feed that’s been playing on my computer twenty-four seven.
My focus turns razor sharp, looking for the girl I can’t stop thinking about.
Disappointment washes over me as I realize that it’s not her.
“Sir?” Dom asks. I was so focused on looking for her, I completely shut out what he was saying.
“Sorry, can you repeat that?”
He purses his lips, showing his annoyance.
“Is there a problem?” I ask, intertwining my fingers on the desk.
“You were looking for her, weren’t you?”
“What if I was?”
“I don’t think it’s a good idea. She appeared out of nowhere. Just now, when everything is going to shit. Don’t you find it suspicious?”
My tongue makes its way over my teeth. “Your point?” I get what he’s saying. The thought crossed my mind before. Where the hell did she come from?
“We still have no idea who she is.”
I dip my head. “No progress on that part either?”
“Nope. Her name is obviously fake, but other than that, I have nothing.” He starts listing things off on his fingers. “She’s fidgety. She carries a gun…”
“A gun?”
“You know that little purse of hers?”
“What about it?” He’s not making any sense.
“It’s just big enough for a small gun.”
“But how does she get through security?” I pour myself another glass and start pouring Dom’s.
“It’s a 3D-printed one.” He moves his index finger from side to side, so I place the bottle on the table.
“I checked her purse when she left it on the poker table. Then I checked the entrance footage. I’m not sure what she does with the bullets, but the beep of the metal detector is low enough to allow her to flirt her way inside, and the purse is small enough not to raise suspicion. ”
“She’s a woman. She needs to protect herself.” He quirks a skeptical eyebrow. “It doesn’t mean she’s an enemy.” Still, carrying a hidden gun into a casino crawling with security is certainly damning.
“Of course, but you must admit things aren’t adding up. I’m just saying you need to be careful.”
I wave him off, acting like his words don’t shake me. “You were talking about Williams?”
“Yes. He let me know that the investigations into the warehouse fires are closed.”
“Good.” I need to appreciate the small things. Williams is making sure we have the police on our side, but it’s always a relief finding out that they’ve stopped digging. “Is that all?”
“It is.” He waits for me to say more, but when I don’t, he continues, “I’ll get back to work.”
I acknowledge him with a bow of my head, and he exits my office. My phone clicks as I unlock it and order some food to be brought to my desk. My appetite is barely existent, but I can’t survive on rakia alone.
Just a couple of minutes later, a server brings in a tray filled with food.
My gaze is stuck to the screen, still watching if she’ll enter the building, while I poke the food around the plate.
I force myself to eat half of a steak and some potatoes, which taste like cardboard.
I wash it down with more rakia, Dom’s words replaying in my mind.
There’s a reason he’s my right-hand man. His gut feeling saved me more than once and he has a bad feeling about her. But it doesn’t help the spot of disappointment from not seeing her grow into a giant ball inside of me.
It’s been five days. Five days of wasted time in my front office, checking the security feeds in search of a streak of red hair or silky skin.
There’s still no new information on Luka.
The business is slow since we’re moving extra carefully, not wanting to risk losing any more merch to the Russians.
A pile of paperwork sits in front of me, ready to be tackled.
Typically, I don’t mind it. There’s a quiet joy in watching the pile slowly lower as the business gets done, one paper at a time.
It’s like watching an hourglass. You can see the flow of time by the number of papers removed.
It’s tangible, measurable. All the best things in life are. Money, success.
But today, the pile in front of me fills me with dread. I’d rather take a paper-cut to my balls that tackle it right now.
A knock sounds at the door. Like a dog whose owner just got home, I’m overjoyed with the idea of a visitor. Anything to save me from this bureaucratic hell.
Johnny pokes his graying black head inside. “Just checking to see if you got those papers done, boss. I want to put the orders on the new blackjack tables.”
Oh, great. It’s about paperwork. “Not yet, Johnny. I’m working on it.” I point to the massive pile in front of me, and he winces.
“I’ll leave you to it.”
I’m guessing he exits and closes the door behind him, but I can’t be sure since my full focus is now on the screen of my computer.
The blue eyes I’ve been dreaming about are actually here, in my casino, the perfect, round ass sitting down at one of the poker tables.
With a parting glance at the paperwork, I get up from the desk, and head to the casino floor. Dom walks toward me in the hallway.
“Did you manage…? he starts, but I cut him off.
“Nope. Not now. I’m taking a break.” I don’t bother stopping to see the roll of his eyes.
In less than a minute, I’m carrying two glasses, and sitting down on the stool next to her.
She greets me with a demure smile, one that sends electricity through my body, but acts like she doesn’t know me. I can work with that.
I focus on the dealer in front of me, trying to ignore her scent seeping into my nose.
Sneaking a peek at her, I can’t suppress licking my lips.
She’s gorgeous. Tonight, she’s in a black pencil skirt and a tan blouse, looking like a sexy secretary out of my wildest fantasies.
Her full lips are adorned with red lipstick.
My cock stirs in my pants, unaware that I’m a 35-year-old man, and not a teenager anymore.
I’d love to get her alone, but there are five people at this table.
I’ll have to go through them to get to her.
She’s a shark, winning their chips as if it’s child’s play.
She has them wrapped around her finger, so much so that they don’t even notice they’re losing money left and right.
But that’s not the most fascinating part.
Them being star-struck is no wonder, just a natural consequence of having fully functioning eyes.
But the way she reads their hands, never falling into their traps while executing hers perfectly, is a work of art.
I know at least two of the players at the table are regulars, meaning they know what they are doing, but she runs circles around them.
Two players leave the table with bruised chip stacks and egos, leaving only the three of us. Forcing a guy all in, Alex takes all his chips. The guy lets out a loud sigh, and my fists tense.
“Well, better luck next time.” He reaches his hand out to Alex, and I watch with rapt attention for any sign of her discomfort.
Instead, her lips turn up into a smile, and she shakes his hand. “Good game, man.”
The tension within me eases. No need for murder tonight. She turns back to me as the man leaves, and the dealer deals us the next hand. It’s finally just the two of us. “I almost thought I wouldn’t see you here again,” I murmur low enough that the dealer doesn’t hear.
“What? You missed me?” Her tongue darts out playfully.