Chapter 22
MATTEO
We’ve been at the roulette table for almost two hours, gambling away Nico’s money that I’ll somehow have to pay back.
But I’m sure the coffers back in LA are still full.
Lots of men died in Dante Moretti’s war…
men who had no time to spend their fortunes.
And I know where a lot of those fortunes are hidden.
But at least I now know that my luck is still absolute shit.
But I don’t need luck when I have my arm around Goldie’s waist, her soft hair brushing my neck as she laughs and cheers and places the bets all wrong every time. But let her. As long as she’s not shying away from my touch, I’ll let her do anything she wants.
I’ve been warned about women who make a man crazy enough to think that way. Especially every time I went with my father or uncles to Vegas, since that’s where it always shows itself best. A woman you can’t say no to can and will bankrupt you.
But what’s life without a little danger?
And what’s life without a woman that makes you feel alive in ways you didn’t know you could be?
Maybe what I said to her over dinner finally made her trust me.
I meant it. I won’t go too far out of my way to find her family if they manage to stay hidden and I will protect them if I ever get the chance.
But first I need Ferro to get to the place where I can offer her that.
So if he finds them on his own, I won’t stand in his way too hard.
I told her as much too. There’s what you wish you could do and what you can do.
And they usually are not the same thing.
She’s only had one vodka tonic since we got to the casino, but I’ve been throwing down whiskeys like there’s no tomorrow. I figured a little celebration was in order and that I’d been sober long enough. One night can’t hurt. And it can make everything better.
The roulette dealer shouts out a number—24 black, maybe, I didn’t hear too good because she turned to me with a wide smile on her face, her eyes sparkling in the overhead lights, almost as much as her dress.
“Looks like neither of us have any luck. I put it on 11 red.”
“All of it?”
She nods. “All of it.”
Man, how I love watching her lips move when she talks.
“So that’s what, a couple of grand that we’re down?” I ask.
“At least.”
Her lips move in the most interesting ways when she smiles. They’re like a little heart shaped road with upturned edges—a road I can’t wait to travel tonight.
“We should cut our losses and get a room for the night,” I say and pull her closer still.
She’s not pulling away, her body melts into mine just like it used during those stolen kisses in her room. And on the beach… man, the beach. Maybe we don’t need a room at all. Just the sand and moonlight.
But she deserves a night in a five-star hotel room. She deserves a five-star life. And I can’t wait to give it to her.
She inclines her head to look at me, exposing her tenderly soft neck to my lips and I can’t resist. She shivers as I kiss her tender skin, her moan vibrating against my lips.
Just like it used to the first time I kissed her like this.
The last thing I expected was her being this willing tonight. Maybe my luck is turning.
“OK,” she whispers. “Let’s go.”
I lead her away from the table, fighting the urge to lift and carry her to get to the front desk faster.
There’s a line at reception, tourists in sporty shorts and shirts mixing with guests who probably spent as much money as we just lost on their outfits. I hope there’ll be rooms left by the time we get our turn.
“I’ll be right back,” she says.
“What? Where are you going?”
She smiles at what must be total shock on my face. Because what she said felt like an ice bath. It killed almost all my buzz.
“Look at that line,” she says, smiling very widely. “I have to go to the toilet… can’t wait.”
She sways a little in a way that proves her point.
“You get us a room,” she adds. “And I’ll be right back.”
She starts moving away and I mutter, “OK, fine.”
Two blinks later, she’s lost in the crowd. Another blink and I can’t see her anymore. And it’s not a good feeling. It’s like something’s been cut loose from me and is floating away. But that’s probably just all the whisky I drank talking. I should sober up. Otherwise, I’ll be no good for her.
The pretty ladies working the reception desk are so nice and friendly to everyone that it takes forever for me to get my turn.
And as I stare into the soft brown eyes of the blonde asking me how I’m doing it finally dawns on me that Goldie should be back by now.
Even if there was a huge line for the toilets.
“Where’s the nearest ladies room?” I ask and the receptionist’s eyes go so wide it looks like she’s about to pass out.
“Umm, it’s…” She points directly behind me. “But did you want a room? Sir?”
She must think I’m insane. And I probably am. Thinking Goldie came back to me. Thinking everything could be good now. Thinking she trusts me again. Thinking she’s mine.
“No, I don’t.”
I turn away and elbow my way through the crowd waiting to check in.
A lady in bike shorts and a neon-green shirt shrieks as I burst into the ladies’ room.
The others in there just give me very nasty looks.
Including the grey-haired lady with a walker that I nearly knocked down while rushing to check all the stalls.
“Goldie! Gianna? Are you in here?”
More women are yelling at me to get out now, but there’s only one voice I want to hear and it’s not among them. I want Goldie to say she’s here, that I’m making a fool of myself, that I need to stop shouting for her and crawling on the floor to check under the doors of the locked booths.
None of the shoes I see are the black stilettos that made the top of her head reach my nose and let me smell her soft, beautiful hair all night at the roulette table. Strawberries with just a hint of vanilla. And that intoxicatingly sharp bouquet of flowers that’s all her.
It takes two huge bouncers to drag me out of the restroom. The lobby is packed now as they drag me across it to the exit. At least half of the people in here now are here to see the show. The crazy guy who lost his woman in the ladies’ room.
But she was never mine to begin with.
And I was an idiot to get drunk. An idiot for thinking I could find her if she ran.
“I’m good now. Let me go.” I tell the bouncers as we clear the revolving doors and the sharp sent of the sea mixed with exhaust hits me. It’s a cool night, the wind almost winterly.
They drag me a good ten yards from the hotel door before releasing me.
“Don’t come back in tonight,” the shorter to the two grunts.
And I wish he’d punctuate his order with a punch. I could take these two, no problem. But luckily, they just leave it at that. A first warning, I suppose.
The sidewalk and the boardwalk on the other side of the two-lane road packed with cars is twice as crowded as the hotel lobby. And golden blonde heads are everywhere.
I fucked up so bad.
But it wasn’t even tonight. I fucked up that first night I followed Goldie into the alleyway where that Russian asshole took her.
Where did she learn to lie so well? To deceive so cunningly?
Or is it all on me? Wanting to believe her lies so bad that I did?
All pointless questions. Because if I don’t find her tonight, I’m as dead as her and her family.
And that can’t happen.
Because whatever else happens, I’d never survive her death. Despite everything. She is mine.