Chapter 12 Dom
My first instinct is to pick up the phone and have Viktor pull in Stokes, bring him upstairs and lean on him until we find out who he’s working for.
It's what my father would do. It's what Viktor would do. It's the clean, direct response and it would feel very satisfying for about twelve hours.
Then whoever is above Stokes disappears. The runners scatter. The infrastructure goes underground and rebuilds somewhere I can't see it, and six months from now I'm sitting in this office looking at the same loss reports with no leads.
I need every name. Theo has me there even if I won’t admit it. Yes, I could bring someone else in, but he’s already ahead of the curve and he’s good at this.
The other problem is the intricacy of the operation. If the Castellanos are running an operation inside my casino that costs more than it earns, -- and I’d put good money on it being them -- then the money isn't the objective.
The losses on my floor are significant but they're not significant enough to justify the complexity of what Theo described.
Rotating runners who appear once and don't come back are risky and expensive. False trails and deliberate losses don’t just waste the time of my analytics team, they also decrease the profit of the gang running the con.
They’ve deliberately lost money just to try make me look at the wrong people.
The goal isn’t profit. It’s infrastructure.
The question is: infrastructure for what?
I can think of three possibilities. They're mapping my security, identifying weaknesses in my operation, building a picture of who inside the Grand can be bought or pressured.
They're testing my response time, seeing how long it takes me to notice and what I do when I do. Or they're building something larger and the casino is the staging ground.
None of these are good. And there’s nothing I can do about it yet. If I get rid of Stokes, there’ll be someone else waiting to take his place.
I need every single name before I can move. The outside people, I don’t care about too much. We can simply ban them. Or scare them.
It’s the insiders who are the problem. I need to know every single one before I move.
The door opens. Viktor comes in with two coffees and sets one on my desk. He looks like he slept here. He might have.
"Tell me," he says.
I tell him. There’s a flicker of anger when he hears the name Stokes, which then settles into concentration as I set out the structure as Theo described it.
Viktor listens without interrupting. He picks up his coffee, drinks, sets it down. His face doesn't change through any of it. He sees the same problem that I do and I can tell he doesn't like it.
Viktor's instinct is always to act. It's what makes him good at what he does but this kind of longer term strategic play always frustrates him.
He's quiet for a moment. "Who knows?"
"You. Me. Theo. That's it. Nobody else."
"Is he telling the truth? Maybe Stokes is the only innocent employee on the floor and he’s in the way."
"Nobody sent him."
"You don't know that."
"I know him completely. I just spent five days in bed with him.”
“And that's exactly why you can't be objective about this."
I look at Viktor across the desk. He holds my gaze. He's the only person who will say to my face exactly what he’s thinking. It's why I keep him.
"He's my match," I say. "He's been in my penthouse for two weeks and after we just spent our time doing, he might be carrying my child. He's not going anywhere and he's not working for the Castellanos."
"You're sure."
"Yes."
"Based on what? I've watched good alphas lose everything trusting their instincts about someone they're fucking."
I let the words sit. Viktor isn't wrong to push. If our positions were reversed, I'd be saying the same thing. But I do know.
The only thing I’m not being completely honest about is about Theo not going anywhere. He’s going to rabbit if I give him the slightest opportunity.
He’s not going to get it. Still, it’s important to be thorough.
"I'll interrogate him," I say. "Properly. Eight years accounted for. Every city, every casino, every alias. Where he was, who he saw, how he operated. If there's a gap, if there's anything that doesn't track, I'll find it."
"And if it doesn't track?"
"Then we deal with it."
Viktor watches me for another moment. Then he nods once and picks up his coffee. "When?"
"Today. But I want to look at the feeds first. I want to see the floor with what I know now."
He stands. "I'll pull the archive for the last month. High-roller room and main floor."
He leaves. I sit at the desk and drink the coffee he brought. I go back to thinking about the pit bosses.
Two of them oversee the affected section of the main floor. Gary Stokes and Cath Beresford. I don’t think that Theo is wrong about Stokes. He’s good at what he does, but I don’t think he’s particularly loyal. Enough money could buy him.
I’m concerned that it’s both of them. Cath has been here for decades, starting under my father.
When I was twelve and my father would bring me to the casino, Cath was the one who'd make sure there was a sandwich waiting for me in the back office. I don’t want to believe that it’s her too, but she’s good at her job. Too good.
She works closely with Stokes. If he was rotten, I’m sure she’d pick up on it, but she’s said nothing.
I pull up the footage of Cath from the last two weeks. Fast-forward through hours of her doing her job. She's good at it.
She manages her section the way she always has, moving between tables, checking on dealers, greeting regulars by name.
Viktor is right about one thing. My instincts are compromised. Every cell in my body says Theo is mine but I'm thinking with my cock. I know I am.
I need to know everything there is to know about Theo Holland. If he is playing me, I need to know it. And if he is, then I deal with it.
I look at the blank monitor where the feeds were playing. The casino is running. The tables are open. The dealers are dealing and the runners are running. The pit bosses are managing their sections and the whole machine is turning over the way it always does.
Underneath, someone is taking it apart.