6. Dominic
Dominic
“I’ve spoken to the artistic director at Cirque Du Soleil,” Natalie says, bouncing on her toes. “They said they would be happy to send some performers over for the grand opening.”
I settle into my desk chair, accepting the list of acrobatic displays Natalie has planned for the gala at my new hotel, Pharaoh’s Temple.
We’re one month from our grand opening, which will be the year’s most exclusive party.
I am only inviting the who’s who of Las Vegas to our soiree.
Celebrities and politicians, the highest rollers in the Tariello casinos, and of course, my friends and rivals, just to rub in my success.
“I’ve ordered linens, everything in black and gold,” Natalie continues. “Leo mentioned you have some artifacts you’d like to display.”
I attempt to hide my smirk behind my fist as I glance at my adviser in a chair across from me.
Sure, I have artifacts. Plenty of items—that were obtained on the black market and may cause problems if they suddenly appear at my casino.
“I’ll take a look and see what I can find.” I indicate for Natalie to continue.
She rocks on her heels, folders full of designs clenched to her chest. “That’s about it.
I think this event is going to be amazing, Dominic.
Thank you so much for giving me a chance to plan it.
I’ve been hoping to branch out to party planning, and this is the perfect way to kick-start that part of my career. ”
“You’ll always have a home with the Tariello Corporation.” I stand, reaching across the desk to shake her hand. “I’ve been nothing but impressed with your work, Natalie.”
Her grin widens, creases forming at the corners of her eyes. “Thank you. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate hearing that.”
Lifting a shoulder, I dismiss her admiration. “Leo will show you out.”
Leo stands, beaming with pride for his girlfriend. He curls an arm around her waist as he leads her toward my office door. I chuckle when he whispers in her ear, causing a pink hue to color her cheeks. With a stolen kiss, he flicks her nose and sends her on her way.
“You’re truly sickening, you know that?” I ask as he closes the door behind her.
“Aren’t all men in love?” Leo sinks back into his chair as another man, who’s been lurking in the back of the room, takes the spot beside him.
“I’m not like that with Sadie,” Lucas says, earning scoffs from Leo and me.
“No?” Leo quirks a brow. “Wasn’t that you last week whispering sweet nothings in Sadie’s ear when we were all trying to enjoy dinner at Trattoria Palermo?”
I laugh at the memory from a few nights ago at my great-uncle Salvatore’s Italian restaurant. I could barely enjoy the family-style meal. Lucas had Sadie nearly on his lap as they canoodled—a serious feat with her growing belly.
“How’s the pregnancy coming along?” I ask.
Lucas’s expression brightens as he runs a hand over his dark hair and inches forward in his seat.
“Amazing. I can feel the little guy move when I put my hand on her stomach. It’s the craziest thing watching him grow through her.
It’s becoming real now, you know? Next week she has another doctor’s appointment.
I’m going to go with her so I can listen to his heartbeat. It’s a boy, did I tell you that?”
“Only a thousand times,” Leo mutters.
I wink at Lucas as he grimaces with a mumbled, “Sorry.”
“I’d be excited, too,” I tell him.
And I would.
It’s not like I haven’t thought about it—the concept of Cassandra, with my child inside her. Fuck. I’ve thought about it a lot—more than I should.
Because right now isn’t the time.
I have a cartel and a Bratva family breathing down my neck, a new hotel opening, and a wedding to plan.
No.
Babies will have to wait.
I clear my throat and shuffle the financial statements sprawled across my desk. “So, what are we looking at in the way of security hirings at Pharaoh’s Temple? Do we have enough bodies for the opening?”
“We’re looking good.” Lucas straightens his shoulders.
So far, he’s impressed me in his new role as head of security for Pharaoh’s Temple.
After being shot in the leg during our first standoff with the Kozlova Bratva last year, Lucas proved he was a significant asset to the Romano-Tariello organization, and I promoted him.
Leo jumps in. “We’ve fully hired our civilian security staff, and we have twenty Romano-Tariello associates so far. When Marco returns from the Virgin Islands, he and Lorenzo will head out to the desert with another training group, and we plan to bring ten more associates on to the team.”
I lift a pen from the desk, rotating it between my fingers. We staff all Tariello hotels with a mix of legitimate security personnel and “associates,” who are truly our syndicate’s foot soldiers and captains. “Thirty at Pharaoh’s Temple is a good start.”
“Actually, I have a question for you about the next batch of training,” Leo says. “In truth, the question is from Nico.”
“Shoot.” I tap my pen, waiting.
“Nico is impressed with the training regime we’ve implemented. He wants to know if he contributes financially, if we would allow his Chicago recruits to join.”
Tilting my head, I consider my cousin’s request. “Sharing the responsibilities of getting men trained doesn’t sound like a bad idea. Maybe a few of his higher-ups can learn from Marco and Lorenzo and take on some of the logistics.”
“It would also allow us to join Las Vegas and Chicago further,” Leo points out. “Having men willing to work together and armies we can lend to each other in times of need would strengthen both cities.”
With a nod, I concur. “Let’s do it.”
“Perfect.” Leo lifts his notepad and pen from my desk and scrawls a reminder. “I’ll call Nico this afternoon. We also need to decide how we want security organized for the grand opening gala. Lucas, do you have any recommendations as to who we should have stationed in the casino’s control room?”
As Lucas begins to answer, a buzzing emanates from my pocket. I shift in my seat to pull out my phone, then tense when I see the caller ID.
I cough and send the call to voicemail, then send a text message.
Can I call you back later?
Although I know “later” can’t be more than a few minutes.
“Leo, Lucas, I’ve got some work to do. I trust the two of you to assemble a strong team for the night of the event. You can send it to me for final approval before you hand out assignments.”
Leo’s brow furrows as he side-eyes me. “Sure, Dominic. We can do that.” The way his tone lifts and he draws out his words lets me know he didn’t miss my phone call or my subsequent reaction.
I give a tight smile and ignore my adviser’s curious stare.
“No problem, Dominic.” Lucas stands, smoothing his hands along his charcoal slacks. “Leo and I will get the list to you ASAP.”
“No rush,” I say, rocking back in my chair, pen clenched in the fist that rests on my lap. “We have time.”
Lucas reaches out to shake my hand before he leaves, but Leo lingers, scrutinizing.
“What was that?” he asks once Lucas is through the door.
“Nothing important.”
“I don’t believe you.” Leo adjusts his glasses before collecting his notepad and laptop.
“I’ll tell you if I think you need to know,” I lie.
“Dominic.”
“I promise.”
Leo sighs but acquiesces. “Fine.” He heads toward the door, turning before he opens it. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
My jaw locks as my eyes narrow.
“Yeah, I know. I shouldn’t talk to the boss that way.” Leo shakes his head. “Well, when the boss refuses to talk to his consigliere, I have a right to be concerned.” He passes through the door, giving a final glare before it clicks closed.
I groan as my attention returns to my waiting cell phone.
I open my call list, but I don’t select the most recent number. No, that’s a decoy line, hidden by a server. There’s only one clue that tells me who was calling—the area code—one that doesn’t exist in real life.
Pressing my thumb on the number I want, I rest my elbows on my desktop and hold the phone to my ear.
“Dominic,” the man says, his voice gruff. This isn’t a social call. It’s all business.
“Hey. What’s going on?”
“I heard through the grapevine that you had a meeting recently.”
I drop my forehead into my palm. Of course, he did. With the information this man siphons from me, along with the intel he collects from all over the country, he knows everything he shouldn’t.
“With Santos,” I say, knowing that’s the information he’s looking for.
“Precisely. Care to tell me what you discussed?”
I swivel my chair so that I can gaze over the noon-time activity of Las Vegas Boulevard. “They’re drug running and have no plan to stop. Still staying out of trafficking, however, he refers to Kozolva and Perez as his allies.”
“None of this is new, Dominic.” My contact sighs. I can picture his expression, intense and determined.
“There’s more.”
A group of men in button-downs and loosened ties walks down The Strip twenty-five floors below. They’re probably on their way to a casino after a business lunch that included too many rounds of spirits.
“Santos knows where Kozlova and Perez are, or at least where they’re meeting,” I say, watching as the men steer toward my casino. Good. Drunk and cocky. Exactly what feeds my bottom line.
“Perfect, where?” my contact asks, just as eager as I am to know.
“He won’t tell us.”
The man grunts. “Did he tell you anything?”
“They’re somewhere in the Caribbean, that’s all we know.”
“There are a lot of governments scattered around that area. It’d be nice to know which one we need to work with.”
I swivel away from the window, retrieving my pen to fiddle with. “I agree. He won’t budge.”
The man pauses, then sighs. “Is there anything else I should know?”
I debate. The rhythmic tapping of my pen on my wooden desk gives a soundtrack to the silence.
“Yes,” I say, drawing out the word. “We have a video that could cause Santos a lot of trouble.”
“Oh?” My contact perks up. “What’s on the video?”
I hesitate. “That I’m not ready to tell.”
“Okay,” he drawls. “Might I be able to see this video at some point?”
“I don’t know. To be honest, I’ve promised it to my cousin.”
“Then why tell me about it?” He’s frustrated. I don’t care. I’m giving him more than I should—more than I would give anyone else.
“So you know. In case we get to the point where it makes more sense for you to take possession of it.”
“Does this video contain the kind of evidence that could cause Santos problems?”
My lips curl into a smirk. “Fuck, yes.”
“All right.” The man hums. I hear the faint sound of typing. “I’ll start looking into the Caribbean. I’ll contact you again soon.”
“Looking forward to it.” And I am, because I have a feeling the next time we speak won’t be under these kinds of circumstances.
“Stay safe, Dominic.”
“You, too.”
I end the call and return to the window, second-guessing the deal I’ve made with the devil.
If word gets out that information is leaking from me, my family will be caught in a war of retaliation.
But I’m a selfish prick, and for my own good, I won’t cut contact.
It’s either the stupidest or smartest decision I’ve ever made.
Hopefully, I never have to find out which.