Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Islam my laptop closed with more force than intended. I do that a lot, I guess. Then I pick up my bag, shove the computer inside it, and storm out of the coffee shop. The cup and muffin that were delivered to my table, which I didn’t order, left untouched.
The second I saw him and his cocky, overconfident, assholish smirk, I knew he was fucking with me by sending those over.
Screw him. Alfie Giuliani will not intimidate me.
I don’t care what the rumors say about him and his family.
I came here to get those buildings, and that’s exactly what I’m going to do.
With a renewed purpose and a slightly pissed-off attitude, thanks to one asshole who thinks he owns a damn city, I walk out of the Royal Flush Casino and straight onto the Strip.
The properties I’ve been eyeing are only a block away from here.
That’s why Angus booked us suites at the Royal.
Well, that and, in his words, why not stay in the enemy’s house?
Now though, after having the enemy buy me a coffee and a muffin, I wish I had insisted on staying somewhere else. Anywhere else. Damn him. I will not let that man take up any more time in my brain. I shake my head, my steps quickening as I make my way down the street.
I pull my phone out and send Angus a message.
Me:
I’m going to see a man about a building.
Angus:
Which man?
Me:
Mr. Davids.
Angus:
Going straight for the big one. I like your style, boss. Want me to catch up?
Me:
No. Stay there and keep digging. Something has to come up about one of these men soon. Nobody is squeaky clean.
Angus:
I’ll find something.
Shoving my phone into my pocket, I walk into the building that will soon be mine. Mr. Davids’s office is on the top floor. Surprisingly, there’s no security to go through to get up there.
I stop at the reception desk and mask my features. Look like you belong and you will. “I’m here to see Mr. Davids,” I say in a confident tone.
The girl looks up at me. “Do you have a meeting scheduled?”
“Would I be here if I didn’t?” I raise a brow, as if to say what a stupid question you just asked.
“What’s your name?”
“Molly Olive.”
“I don’t see you on the calendar,” she says after staring at the screen in front of her for what felt like forever.
“If you just point me in the direction of Mr. Davids’s office….”
“You don’t have a meeting scheduled, Miss Olive,” she says, a little more confidently.
“See that phone there? Pick it up and let Mr. Davids know that Miss Olive from the Olive Group is here to see him. He will want to see me,” I tell the girl.
She does as I say and picks up the phone. “Mr. Davids, I have a Miss Molly Olive from the Olive Group here to see you… Uh-huh…” The girl nods as she looks at me. “Yes sir,” she replies before placing the phone down. “He’s not taking unscheduled meetings today.”
I blink at her. That has never not worked for me before. What the hell is happening? “Okay, jot me down for tomorrow then. It’s important.”
“Mr. Davids has no openings,” she tells me.
“What do you mean no openings?”
“I’m sorry, Miss Olive, but he just doesn’t want to meet with you.” The girl looks at me with pity. “Here… He said to give you this card. You can contact his associate.”
I take the card, my blood boiling at the name printed across the front. Alfie Giuliani. “Thank you for your time.” I smile and turn around.
As soon as I’m out of the building, I pull my phone from my pocket and dial Angus.
“He wouldn’t fucking meet me,” I growl.
“Oh.”
“Oh? That’s not helpful, Angus,” I grunt. My heels hit the pavement hard as I stomp my way back to the Royal Flush. It’s fucking hot out here.
“Where are you?”
“Walking back to the Royal. We need to meet and brainstorm. One way or another, I’m going to get these buildings, Angus,” I repeat the mantra I’ve been telling myself since I landed in this god-awful city.
“Oh, I have no doubt, Mol. Let’s meet at that bar by the entrance.”
“Perfect. I could use a drink.”
“It’s barely noon,” he says.
“It’s Vegas,” I remind him.
“Point taken. I’ll order you a fruity cocktail of some sort. See you in a few.”
Throwing my phone into my purse, I finger the card that’s still in my hand. I will not call him. He doesn’t own these buildings. He has no vested interest in them at all. Whatever his reasons for keeping me from purchasing them are, I don’t care.
It doesn’t take me long to make it back to the casino, the cool air a refreshing relief from being out in the heat. Damn, this city is hot.
On my way to the bar, I pass three men, dressed impeccably in custom-made suits.
It’s the one in the middle that catches my eye, though.
Hudson Giuliani, same ridiculous good looks as his older brother with a little bit less hardness to his eyes, even with the bruise he’s sporting on his face.
I slow my steps as I get closer, fiddling in my bag as I stop right next to the group.
I don’t even know why I do it. Instinct?
“Mom’s charity gala’s this weekend,” I hear Hudson say.
“She’s having it here?” another male asks.
“Yeah, Alfie’s in the ballroom now going over shit with her,” Hudson responds.
Pulling my phone out of my bag, I smile as if I’ve found what I had to stop and dig around for before I start walking towards the bar again.
There’s a charity gala this weekend. I’m already Googling to find out what the event is as I enter the bar.
Looking up from my screen, I scan the space until I spot Angus.
“I have an idea,” I say as I sit down.
“You usually do,” he retorts.
“Mrs. Giuliani is hosting a charity event this weekend. We need tickets.”
“We?”
“You and me, we’re going. These assholes might refuse to see me in their offices, but if we’re seated at their table at an event, there’s no escaping us.”
“And how do you think you’re going to be able to be seated at their table?”
“I’m going to make a huge donation, obviously.” I pick up the pink concoction in front of me and take a healthy gulp of the icy cold liquid. It tastes like pure syrup. Delicious. “I don’t know what this is, but it’s good.”
“That’s half-filled with tequila. You should take it slow,” Angus tells me.
“It’s as if you don’t even know me.” I smirk as I suck the liquid through the straw, not stopping until the cup is almost empty. I don’t like being told what to do. It makes me insanely rebellious.
“Oh, I know you,” Angus says. “You want me to get tickets to this event?”
“Yes, please.” I nod but he wasn’t really looking for my answer. He’s already tapping away on his iPad.
“Shit,” he hisses.
“What?”
“You’re not going to like this,” he says.
“Why?”
“It’s sold out.”
I blink. “Fine. I’ll go right to the source.” I shrug, standing as I take another big gulp of my drink before picking up my bag.
Angus stands with me. “What’s the plan?”
“I happen to know for a fact that Mrs. Giuliani is currently in the ballroom. I’m going to go and offer her a donation she won’t be able to refuse in exchange for a ticket to the event.”
“Oh, so a simple one, then? Just walk right up to the wife of the city’s mob boss.” Angus chuckles.
“If you’re scared, you don’t have to follow me,” I tell him.
“My job depends on you being alive, so you bet your pretty little ass I’m following you into the lion’s den to make sure you walk out in one piece.”
“Pfft, I’m not afraid of them.” I shake my head. It’s comical how much people believe the rumors.
“You should be,” Angus says. “I’ve heard things.”
I have no idea where the ballroom is, but then I see someone who can help me. Hopefully. “I’ve got an idea,” I whisper to Angus.
“Oh, good,” he mutters with an eye roll.
My glare locks on Hudson Giuliani. He’s alone now. I have no idea where his little posse of pals went, but I don’t care.
“Hi, Hudson, right?” I offer him a well-practiced smile.
His back straightens as he eyes me up and down, and then his gaze falls onto Angus behind me. “Do I know you?” he asks.
“No, I’m Molly. A friend of your mother’s. Well, not really a friend, but I was supposed to meet her to go over some final details for this weekend’s gala. Could you guide me to where I can find the ballroom?”
“Sure, it’s this way,” Hudson says, holding out his arm to me.
He steps next to me as he leads me to the ballroom, exactly what I was hoping he would do. Stopping at the doors, he nods to the two men who appear to be guarding them.
“You can go through,” Hudson says.
“You’re not coming in?” I ask him.
He laughs. “No, if I go in there, I’m likely to get roped into doing shit I don’t want to be doing.” With that, he walks away and one of the guards opens the door for me.
“Just her,” he says when Angus goes to follow me.
“He’s my assistant,” I explain.
“Don’t care. You were approved to go in, not him,” the bulky body guard tells me.
I look to Angus. “Go wait in the suite for me.”
“You sure?” He’s clearly hesitant to let me go in there alone.
“Yep. See you soon.” I smile and wave before turning and walking through the door.