Halloween Hit (31 Days of Trick or Treat: Biker & Mobster #4)

Chapter 1 – Giovanni

GIOVANNI

T he casino is empty. No bright lights. No machines ringing. No drinks being poured. Just silence echoing off marble floors and velvet-draped walls.

But that’s all about to change.

DeLuca Casino is mine. My kingdom. My blood runs through every table, every chip, every deal made behind closed doors. But don’t mistake it for an inheritance. Nothing in this family is given. Everything is earned.

And in the DeLuca family, “earning it” means spilling blood, swallowing pride, and proving over and over that you’re worthy of the name. My father, Carlo DeLuca, never lets me forget it. Every day, every decision, every move I make, it’s under his watchful eye, his relentless shadow.

This casino wasn’t built on luck. It was built on sacrifice. On nights I walked out bruised and battered but kept my mouth shut. On deals I didn’t agree with but carried out anyway. On loyalty paid in blood.

Tonight is just another test. Another chance to prove I can handle the weight of the empire he’s built. Another chance to show him I’m more than just his son—I’m his successor.

And failure?

Failure isn’t an option when you’re a DeLuca.

A few hours later, I’m staring in the mirror.

The horns are snug against my head, the black mask fitting just right, and the tailored suit in blood-red silk clings to my frame.

The devil. Fitting, isn’t it? There’s something poetic about walking into my casino dressed as the monster everyone already believes me to be.

I adjust my tiny pitchfork cufflinks, before heading toward the private lounge.

The casino floor is still quiet, but the hum of anticipation is building.

By nightfall, it’ll be chaos. Flashing lights, pounding music, dice rolling, and the seductive pull of the DeLuca empire wrapping around every guest like smoke.

Anthony’s already there when I step inside, lounging back in a black-and-gold chair, his mask dangling in his hand. His suit is crisp, his hair slicked back, but his eyes are sharp as ever. The man doesn’t miss a detail.

“Giovanni,” he says, smirking as his gaze flicks over my costume. “Devil suits you.”

“Don’t I know it,” I reply, grabbing a glass of whiskey from the tray Lorenzo has already helped himself to.

Lorenzo sits opposite, dressed like a Roman gladiator, his armor shining under the dim light. Of course he’d pick something that screams invincible. He raises his glass toward me. “Perfect night for business. Packed house, liquor flowing. And our plan is coming together.”

Michael strolls in last, mask hiding most of his face, a cigarette hanging from his lips. He exhales smoke like he doesn’t have a care in the world, but I know better. Michael’s the one who gets his hands dirty when the rest of us need them clean. Tonight won’t be any different.

Anthony leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Word is Robbie Costa’s back in town. Slim chance he’d skip out on a night like this. He never misses a party.”

Lorenzo snorts. “The guy’s an addict. Can’t resist the tables, can’t resist the women, can’t resist the free drinks. Pathetic, really. He’ll be here.”

“Good,” I say, my voice steady, cold. “Because tonight, Costa either pays or he breathes his last breath in this casino. No more second chances. My father made that clear.”

Michael taps ash into a crystal tray, his lips twisting into a grin. “And what happens if he tries to slip out before we get him?”

“He won’t,” I answer. “We’ve got eyes on every exit. The second he walks through that door, he’s ours.”

Anthony nods. “We’ll let him have his fun. Drink, play, let the mask of the night do its work. Then…” He drags a finger across his throat. “We bring him to the back room.”

The back room. Everyone in our world knows what that means. To outsiders, it’s just a high-roller lounge. Plush leather chairs, dark wood paneling, expensive scotch lined up behind the bar. But to us? It’s where debts are collected, deals are sealed, and bodies sometimes never walk out again.

Lorenzo chuckles, shaking his head. “Robbie’s been ducking us for months. Always some excuse. Always a story about how he’s ‘waiting on a payout.’”

“Tonight, he’ll pay in full,” I say. My hand tightens around the glass, knuckles white. “With money or with his life.”

The words hang heavy in the air. No one argues. No one questions it. That’s the way of the family.

Anthony lifts his glass in a mock toast. “To Costa’s last party.”

We all clink our drinks, the sound sharp in the silence.

I take a slow sip, my eyes drifting to the floor below where staff start prepping the tables, draping cobwebs and setting out candy bowls as though the holiday spirit makes what we do here any less deadly.

From my perch above the main floor, I watch the casino transform into a living, breathing beast. The crowd is massive, shoulder-to-shoulder, their laughter and shouts rising over the hum of slot machines and the rhythmic clink of chips.

Money flows like water, costumes flash under the chandeliers.

There are witches, vampires, gangsters, angels.

The scent of expensive perfume mixes with whiskey and cigars.

This is our empire at its finest. Controlled chaos.

A hand clamps down on my shoulder, dragging me from my thoughts. Anthony. His grip is firm, his voice pitched low so only I can hear.

“Costa just walked in. And he’s not alone.”

My gaze sweeps the floor, searching, sharp.

It doesn’t take long. Robbie Costa sticks out like a stain on silk.

No costume, no attempt to blend in. Just that smug grin and a gleam in his eyes that makes me want to knock it clean off his face.

He looks like a man who doesn’t have a care in the world.

But it isn’t him who stops me cold.

It’s her.

The playboy bunny at his side.

“Motherfucker,” I hiss under my breath, jaw tightening. My drink sloshes in my hand as I turn to Anthony. “He brought his daughter.”

Anthony follows my stare, his eyes widening before his lips curve into something between a smirk and awe. “Well, shit, he did one thing right in his miserable life.”

The words spark something hot and bitter in me. Something like jealousy, sharp and sudden, slicing through my chest. I have no right to feel it, but it’s there all the same. My spine stiffens, my voice clipped.

“I went to high school with her. Siena Costa. She’s a good girl. Doesn’t belong in this world, doesn’t get mixed up in this shit. He dragged her here using her like a damn shield because he’s desperate.”

Anthony’s gaze lingers on her curves, and it makes me want to put my fist through his teeth. “If that’s his shield, I almost don’t blame him.”

I snap my eyes back to Robbie, forcing my composure.

Still, Siena holds me captive. She’s more beautiful than I remember.

Legs that seem endless in those black fishnets, her heels giving her a sway that makes every man in the room stop and look.

The corset hugs her body, pushing her tits to the edge of indecent, and her dark makeup frames eyes I know once sparkled with innocence.

Red lips curve in a way that makes my hand twitch around my glass.

And those damn bunny ears sit on top of her head, almost like an invitation to any man.

She is a weapon, and she doesn’t even know it.

And the thought of Robbie parading her here, offering her up as his distraction, makes me seethe.

Anthony smirks, sensing the storm brewing in me. “So, now what?”

I don’t take my eyes off Siena, not for a second. The music pounds, the crowd swirls, but all I see is her. “Now,” I say, voice steady, “the devil is going to distract the playboy bunny, while you, Lorenzo, and Michael drag Costa into the back room.”

Anthony lets out a low whistle, still watching Siena like she’s something he might devour. “And what happens if that sexy little bunny won’t let the devil seduce her?”

Finally, I turn to him, grinning as I drain the rest of my whiskey in one swallow. The burn in my throat is nothing compared to the heat crawling under my skin from the sight of her. I slam the glass down, step closer, and let my grin sharpen into something dark.

“You’re joking, right?” I murmur. “I can seduce anyone.” My gaze cuts back to Siena, drinking her in like she’s already mine. “With or without the devil’s help.”

Anthony shakes his head with a laugh, but I catch the glint of unease in his eyes.

Because this distraction could end up being a big problem.