9. Zeno
CHAPTER 9
ZENO
M y cell phone buzzes in my pocket and I pull it out, Sergio’s name flashing on the screen. “Yeah?” I bark into it, ducking into a hallway so I can actually hear whatever bullshit he’s about to task me with as part of my “security” detail.
“I just got word that the skinny dork with the hoodie is back. He was spotted on one of the security feeds, but he’s alone right now. None of the others are with him.”
I let out a groan. “Shit,” I mutter. “Did you ever hear back from Alek? Is the guy a known cheat?”
“Nothing yet,” Sergio says in a tight voice. “So we’re gonna do our own investigating and find out who’s funding him. He’s got a backer. There’s no way the cash he’s gambling with is his own.”
“Maybe he’s got rich parents,” I grunt.
“Or maybe there are fucking criminals looking to steal the rug out from under us so we crash and burn during our first month open. Hell, it could even be worse than that. It could have something to do with our alliance with the Severinovs, too. Their enemies are now our enemies and all of that.”
“The idea of this syndicate just keeps getting better and better,” I say in a sarcastic voice.
“Your father needs this, and we’re putting our asses on the line for it to happen, so deal with it.”
I roll my eyes. Yeah, right, and I need this like two bullet holes in my skull. “Okay, so you want me to rough him up a little? Get him talking? I’ve got some pliers in the basement?—"
“Jesus,” he moans. “Can’t you just have a conversation? Do you always have to resort to torture? Forget the shit you pulled back in Palermo. We need information, not limbs.”
I roll my eyes. Is he serious right now? “Listen, I’m not Human Resources for the family, Serge. I’m not gonna sit next to him, hold his hand, and become his friend before I get his goddamn life story. I’m gonna yank it out of him! And if that doesn’t work, I’m gonna slice off the tip of his tongue and maybe his balls!”
“You know, I really shouldn’t have been shocked when you pulled that stunt back in Sicily and went after Domenico Messina at his underground casino. It’s just like you to attack without thinking of the consequences — to you or anyone else! And your father may have let that shit slide, but I won’t, Zeno. Not while you’re out here in my hotel!”
I grip the phone tight, clenching my teeth so hard, I almost get lock-jaw. I need a break so badly from my life. It was no coincidence that I was picked to take out Messina’s crew for Joe Salesi. There’s no love lost between us, and just because I missed my mark in Sicily, didn’t mean I was gonna miss my second chance to cripple Messina’s organization after he did the same to ours.
Although, to Sergio’s point, I’m damn lucky to have a life right now. He’s right about that and about the fact that I don’t usually think. I get too fired up and all of that vengeance just pours out of me, forcing my hands to do all sorts of things, but mainly a lot of pummeling and maiming.
It’s kind of like an out-of-body experience, one that gives me a rush like nothing I’ve ever felt before.
Sick, I know. But it’s been pretty effective in the past.
Until I found myself up against the wrong enemy.
And by wrong, I mean, the treacherously deadly, unforgiving kind.
The kind you can’t reason with.
The kind who will incinerate your entire life if he catches you.
And that’s only the beginning of the torture story he narrates.
I know killing Messina’s guys slapped a bullseye on the back of my head.
And I also know that no matter what my family does, he’ll strike again.
He always does.
The ‘how’ and ‘when’ are always the two magic questions, though.
The tips of my fingers are now white and slightly numb from the pressure of clutching my phone so tight. I suck in a breath and lean my head back against the wall.
We both know what’s at stake if Messina finds me here in Vegas.
And while I want to live, sometimes I wish what’s left of his crew would just show up here already so I can fight that final battle instead of constantly looking over my shoulder, worrying about when it’ll happen and what the aftermath will look like for my family.
“Fine,” I say, swallowing the words I really want to say to my cousin. “I’ll talk to him.”
“Good,” he says in a terse voice. “He’s in your office.”
The corners of my lips curl upward. Perfect. He’s nice and close to my tools.
You know, just in case I need to encourage him to open up to me.
I won’t actually use them. I’ll just make a few threats since I’ve found they work great as props, too.
“I’m on my way.” I click off the phone, my shoulders sagging as I leave my little corner and head for the private parking deck. It’s where we keep all of the expensive cars for the whales. You need a key to get to my ‘office’, so I stick it into the hole next to the hidden elevator around the back of the hotel and up I go.
I rub the back of my neck, an image of Lily standing next to the animal rescue van flashing before my eyes. “See, this is exactly why a guy like me can’t fuck a girl like you,” I mutter as the door creaks open on the top level. Nobody comes up here at all, and it’s hidden away from the guest parking deck so any yelling and screaming usually falls on deaf ears.
And there’s about to be a lot of yelling and screaming, so that’s a damn good thing.
I walk across the smooth concrete, past the Bugattis, Ferraris, and Lambos until I get to my favorite spot right next to the guard rail. As I approach, I see the kid squirming in the chair he’s tied to. He sputters and sobs as he tries to free his wrists from the restraints. He keeps twisting his head over his shoulder to see the drop behind him.
I’m gonna give him a better angle.
I walk over and clap one of the security guys named Bruno on the shoulder. He’s a cousin of the Marcone family and started here a few weeks before I showed up on the scene. I trust him and another ‘friend’ of the Marcone family, Aldo, the most of all of the other security guys. They’re the type to have your back not stab you in it. “We’re good here, Bruno. You can get back to the floor.”
“Sure thing, Zeno.” He gives me a quick nod and leaves us.
I turn to look at the guy. Must be in his early twenties with his messed-up brown hair, glasses, and Nikes.
“Who are you working with?” I lace these syllables with as much anger in my voice as I can muster, which to be honest, isn’t much. Because of Sergio’s restrictions, I’m out of practice and talking isn’t really my forte. But much as I’d like to pull his teeth out one by one to satisfy my itch, this guy sitting in front of me, shaking like a damn leaf on a tree during a hurricane, is not a career criminal.
He’s just unlucky.
He and his friends probably figured this is a new place and since we’re still working out the kinks, it’d be a great time to cut us off at the knees because we wouldn’t be paying close attention.
But he doesn’t know that we’re always watching.
And waiting for the right time to strike.
Knowing who is lurking, who is sticking their hands in the cookie jar, and most of all who comes back for seconds…that’s how we survive.
I let out a deep sigh and pull out a Glock 19 from the waistband of my pants. Prop number one. I hold it up in front of his panicked face and his eyes almost pop out of his skull. Then I put it on the ledge behind him.
“Are you gonna kill me?” he whimpers, shifting in the metal chair. A zip tie holds his hands together behind him. It’s not tight enough to cut off his circulation, but it’s enough to make it very uncomfortable for him.
I narrow my eyes at the guy. Judging from the looks of his nerdy getup, I’ll bet he’s some mathematical brainiac from Harvard or MIT or Stanford.
Bet.
Ha!
Pun intended.
“Maybe,” I grunt. “It’s not gonna be great if it leaks that some punk-ass kid took us for a boatload of cash opening week. Consider me the Excelsior’s publicist. I have to crush the story before it gets out.” I lean forward, hissing against his ear in the most menacing tone possible when I ask, “How else can I guarantee that the threat’s been eliminated?”
“You could beat me up,” he says, his voice quivering. “But, you know, only the body. Not my head. I need my head,” he whispers, his eyes darting to my two beefy fists, which are currently balled at my sides.
“You need your head?” I repeat. “So you can fuck over some other casino with your big-ass brain?” I snicker, realizing what I just said. “That’s funny ’cause it’s kind of why you’re here right now. You used your ass as a hat when you decided to hit this place, thinking you could outsmart us. Now tell me who the fuck is backing you!”
His teeth chatter and his face…Jesus, if it wasn’t pale before, now it’s Casper-white. “I d-don’t have a backer. I did this myself.”
“Is that what your head is telling you right now? To lie to the guy who’s threatening your life?” I throw my head back and chuckle loudly, then stop suddenly, my mouth twisting into a grimace. “Maybe that’s the punishment, then. Cut off your head so you can’t use that big, beautiful brain anymore. What do you think about that? I could jar it up and keep it as a trophy, you know?” I walk around the back of his chair and palm his head. “It’s nice to be able to think, yeah? I’d hate to take that away.” I pull back and give him a critical look. “Since it seems to be all you have going for you right now. Lemme guess. The ladies aren’t exactly busting down your dorm-room door, are they? Maybe this was a way to get them to pay attention?”
I’m trying everything I can think of right now to shake him up, but this idiot won’t crack.
I really don’t want to kill him. Hell, I don’t even want to mangle him.
I just want to get out of this goddamn suit and kick back up in my plush apartment with a beer because I’ve got nothing better to do with my time off.
Since that first night here in Vegas, Sergio has been all over my ass, making sure I’m laying low and not causing big-time trouble. Anything to keep the Severinovs happy, since he’s dying for their respect.
I lean against the cinderblock wall. I’m gonna have to do my thing if this guy doesn’t cooperate soon. I moved my security operation up here to the parking deck because there are no cameras. I made the stupid mistake of taking a few unruly drunks down to the basement recently because they didn’t understand the meaning of respect for authority figures.
Namely, me.
I guess I had some anger issues to work out.
Pounding the faces of those dumbasses helped.
A little bit.
Of course, when Serge found the footage of me pummeling their asses, he nearly tore mine apart.
“You can’t have this kind of heat on you! Remember why you’re here! You’re supposed to be in hiding, for fuck’s sake!”
I remember when Serge pulled me into his office after the bloodied and beaten guys were tossed out of here that night. Nobody else questioned me. And they deserved it for the scene they caused on the casino floor and in the nightclub. But my cousin nearly had a stroke on the spot when he saw them piled up by the service entrance in the back of the hotel. His eyes were bugged out, his face bright red, his hands balled into tight fists.
He wanted to pound the shit outta me, just like I’d done to those guys. He didn’t care why I did it, he just cared that I did it.
“I don’t give a shit what they did. If people get out of control, you throw them out. You don’t beat them within an inch of their lives, Zeno!”
I let out a frustrated sigh. Doesn’t he get it? That’s all I know. I wasn’t groomed in the art of negotiation. I was trained to be a killer and to protect what belongs to the family.
I was never gonna have the desk job. All of us have specific skills that we use to keep us sharp and strong. Mine are my fists.
But up here, I have free reign. If I drop him to his death?—
No! If I dump him over the side, we can’t find the backer.
Dammit.
At least I can scare him a little bit.
I peer at the kid in front of me again, my eyes falling to his khakis. They look a little darker in the crotch area than they did a minute ago. Did he just piss himself? Maybe the gun intimidation tactic worked. Let’s see. If not, I go to Plan B. “You know, if you give me what I want, I’ll let you go home.”
“No, you won’t,” he mutters, staring at his sneakers. “I’m not an idiot. I know you’re gonna kill me either way. I’ve seen the movie Casino .”
A snort of laughter escapes my mouth. “So you think I’m gonna bring a vise in here and pop your brain out of your skull through your ears or something?”
His head jerks toward me. “Are you?” There is actual terror in his voice when I mention the word vise.
I can’t blame him.
It was a good fucking scene.
“If I crush your head, I don’t get the information I need, capice ?” I pull out a handful of big gold rings and start sliding them onto my fingers. “But I’ve wasted enough time on you tonight. I’m hungry, and I’d like to eat dinner before it’s time for breakfast.” I grip his shoulder and smile. “So, let’s get to work, yeah?” I grab a knife out of the back of my waistband and cut through the ties. I grip his neck and pull him to his feet, digging my fingers into his collarbone. He tries to gasp, but I have him tight in my grasp, tipping him backward over the side of the ledge so his legs flail around in front of him, kicking furiously at me. He’s a lean, lanky kid, so it doesn’t really surprise me when I can pretty much wrap my whole hand around his throat. But I don’t squeeze.
Not too hard, anyway.
I want him to be able to at least squeak out a mercy plea before I get tempted to lose control and let him go.
“Give me a name,” I hiss, forcing him farther backward so that his back is practically kissing the wall below the ledge and the blood rushes to his head.
Loud sobs mixed with pleas for God shatter the air and I let out a sigh just as my cell phone buzzes.
It startles me since I’m so focused on getting the information I need, information he’s still not smart enough to deliver.
Does he think I’m bluffing?
Or are the people he’s working with that deadly?
Just the thought of throttling whoever the fuck they are makes my balls tingle.
Christ, I really need to find a hobby or something. Being in the middle of this city and not being able to tear shit up is soul-crushing.
I pull the kid up to a standing position, and as he sputters and coughs, I pull out my phone with one hand, the other still clutching him.
“Yeah?” I grunt. It’s not my burner so at least I know things haven’t completely unraveled.
“Hey.” It’s Bruno. “I’ve got something for ya. Something good.”
“Oh yeah?” I ask, cracking my knuckles, practically foaming at the mouth. “What is it? Explosives? Tiger attack? Terrorists?”
I clutch the phone in my hand, waiting to hear what’s waiting for me back on the floor. I really don’t want to deal with any more fucking card counters. I need some more action than that or I’m gonna just give up and overdose on five-dollar lobsters until I grow my own damn tail and claws.
“I found the guys the kid was working with. In a fucking bush outside the hotel.”
I snort. “You’re kidding me.”
“Nope. They had a whole network configured out there. Elaborate shit I can’t even begin to understand, but it doesn’t matter. I’ve got a location.”
“Okay, tell me more.” I narrow my eyes at the kid. Is it possible a bunch of fucking hackers are taking us down a dollar at a time while they hide out in our bushes?
“There’s a meeting tonight.”
“How’d you find that out?”
“I clocked one of them with a wrench. The other two shit themselves and started crying like bitches.”
I nod. “Nice work.”
“Are you gonna tell Sergio?”
“Nah,” I say. Screw that. He’ll just jump all over my case about doing reckless shit that the Severinovs wouldn’t approve of. Then he’ll threaten to go to my father. But I’m not the type of guy to really give a damn what people think. I’ve already made it clear what I think of this syndicate, and I’m nobody’s bitch. I know the Messina threat is still out there, but I’ve got to admit that chasing down a group of hackers gives me a dick tingle. And my priority is to protect my family. Period. “Let’s keep it to ourselves for now until we find out more. So where’s the meet?”
“A club called Bang. Off the Strip, over by the Palm. Eleven o’clock tonight.”
“Okay, and what makes you think they won’t go back to their backer and change the location?”
Bruno chuckles. “Because I’ll be their Uber driver for the night.” My phone pings with a message and I stare at the picture he just sent. “That’s them. You’ll be there waiting right inside the club when they show up and Aldo and I will join ya once I park the car. They know what’ll happen to all of it, including them, if they fuck around with us.”
There’s no way Serge isn’t gonna find out about this or my part in it.
But hey, you do what you need to do to protect and preserve the family.
At all costs.
Bruno gets that.
I’ll just have to deal with Sergio’s wrath tomorrow. But if all goes well tonight, maybe it won’t be wrath. Maybe it’ll be my redemption.
I glance at my watch. Still a couple of hours to kill.
“This kid needs to be there at the club, too,” I grunt. “I’m gonna set him up in a sweet ride up here. The hotel car. Swing by to pick him up on your way out tonight.”
“Got it.”
I click off the phone and smirk at the guy’s panicked expression. “It’s your lucky day, prick. We found your friends outside the hotel, and because they’re clearly smarter than you, they gave up some interesting information about a meeting tonight. Instead of flinging you over the edge of the parking deck, I’m gonna personally escort you to that meeting and have a little talk with your backer. So, sit tight and try not to piss yourself again before I come back. That won’t fly with the ladies.”
I launch a punch against his jaw and when he slumps over, I hoist him over my shoulder. Then I pull out a set of keys and pop the trunk on the hotel Mercedes ELX, shoving his limp body inside before he has time to react.” I hold him down, leaning my face close to the trunk.
“And trust me, if you try to pull any funny shit tonight at that meeting, you’re not gonna see my gun on the ledge of this parking deck again. You’re gonna see it pressed against your forehead right before I fire it. Capice ?”