13. Dominic
Dominic
Hidden behind the glamorous walls of Pharaoh’s Temple are stark hallways with linoleum flooring and white walls. A maze meant for employees to travel the building discreetly. Tonight, only a few scurry through as we operate with a small percentage of the normal staff.
Marco already has a hand in his jacket, poised to pull his gun from its holster at a moment’s notice.
“We spotted them entering through the kitchen,” Lucas explains. “I think the catering staff assumed they were members of our security team because they barely gave them a second glance.”
“Any idea what organization they’re with?” I ask as we venture farther into the depths behind the casino.
“Maybe,” Lucas says. “I think you’ll know more than I do when you see the video.”
We arrive at a set of nondescript double doors. Lucas scans his security badge on a console next to them, and the lock clicks open, leading us to an elevator bank.
When we step inside the lift, Lucas presses his finger to his earpiece. “Leo is already upstairs.”
We arrive at the third floor and enter a hall that mirrors that of Il Palazzo. Offices line either side, meant for the higher-ups on the security team, most of whom double as Romano-Tariello associates. Turning a corner, we arrive at the hub of operation.
With another scan of a badge, the door opens, and a hum of activity greets us.
In the corner, Leo inches closer to a monitor, pointing and directing the associate in charge of it to rewind a few seconds. I’m by his side in an instant, watching the screen.
“I’m working on getting good stills to run facial recognition,” he says.
“Any clue who they’re with?”
The associate running the monitor crops a zoomed-in screenshot of a trespasser’s face.
Leo glances in my direction, expression grim. “Looks like a combination of Russians and cartel goons. Here, watch their entrance.”
He instructs our associate to rewind. I move in close and focus on the screen. The hair on the back of my neck rises as I watch the group of four men walk right into my hotel and through a bustling kitchen.
“How the fuck did this happen?”
I spin to face Lucas and find him with a clenched jaw and fingers twitching at his sides. “They had counterfeit security badges. The idiots I stationed out back thought they were with us.” His shoulders fall. “I take full responsibility. I should have done a better job preparing my men.”
“We’ll discuss that later,” I snap. “Right now, we need to find these fuckers and get them out of here.”
“I’ve been following them, Mr. Tariello,” an associate to our left says.
“They’ve split up around the casino. They seem to be on high alert.
Each one is looking up from their game every minute or so to scan the room.
One of the men has been walking the perimeter of the ballroom for a few minutes. I think they’re looking for something.”
“Yeah.” Marco snorts. “Us.”
I return to the monitor and follow a burly Russian man as he passes by the dance floor in front of the stage. He stops to watch the dancers for a few seconds before continuing, facing the wall as he discreetly lifts his arm to speak into his watch.
“That’s how they’re communicating.” The associate points to another screen showing a Hispanic man at a poker table. The man checks his wrist, taps his watch, and obviously reads a message.
“Lucas, get men on each one of them. Tell them to follow but not approach.” I cut my eyes to my security lead as he nods eagerly. “Use our plain clothes guys. I don’t want these assholes to know we’re onto them.”
“Um, Mr. Tariello.” My associate taps the screen showing the ballroom. “We might have an issue.”
My heart comes to a standstill as blood boils in my veins. Near a lighting feature, my fiancée and her best friend are deep in conversation, neither paying any attention to their surroundings. Especially not to the Russian man lingering a few yards away, sending another message to his cohorts.
“Fuck!”
Marco whips out his phone. “I’ll call Amanda. She’s by the bar. I’ll have her get them out of there.”
“I’m texting Sadie, she’s got her phone in her hand.” Lucas starts typing furiously.
“Tell Sadie that they can’t react to the text.” I grab his hands before he can push send. “Then tell her to listen to whatever Amanda says and just follow along.”
Marco hands me his phone. “I don’t know what to tell her to do.”
I lift the device to my ear, racking my brain. “Amanda?” I ask when I hear music in the background.
“Dominic, what’s going on?” I watch on the monitor as she excuses herself from her conversation and looks around the room.
“I need you to listen to me and follow my orders very carefully.” I bounce between screens, tracking Amanda’s movement and the man stalking Cassandra and Sadie. “Do not react to anything I say.”
On the screen, Amanda lifts her wineglass to her lips as she schools her features. “Sure.”
Sadie checks her texts, then shows the screen to Cassandra. Both girls stand awkwardly as they spot Amanda.
“Cassandra and Sadie are on the other side of the dance floor near the wall,” I say.
“Go over to them and tell them there’s a friend of yours you need to introduce them to.
Then take them upstairs to the balcony. There’s an entrance to a hallway on the side opposite the stairs.
Go through that door, and Lucas will meet you there. ”
I wave toward him, mouthing, “Bring them back here.”
“Got it,” Amanda says, already moving in the girls’ direction.
I hang up and hand Marco his phone as Amanda places hers back in her clutch.
She plasters a smile on her face and waves to Cassandra and Sadie.
The girls smile back, leave their spots by the wall, and meet Amanda between a set of tables.
They talk for a moment before Amanda motions for them to follow her.
To anyone else, the three of them look like they are catching up like old friends.
I’m impressed by the acting skills they’re showing off.
“Our man is on the move,” Leo warns, gesturing to the screen above.
Talking on his watch, the Russian falls in step behind the girls, leaving enough distance to avoid suspicion, but his intent to follow is clear.
“Call Dad,” I snap at Marco. His phone is between us on speaker within seconds.
“Marco,” my father answers. I hear my mother continuing a conversation in the background, distracting guests from my father’s sudden shift in demeanor.
“It’s me,” I say. “We’ve got company over by the stairs to the veranda. Big guy, looks Soviet. He’s following Cassandra, Amanda, and Sadie.”
“On it.”
The line goes dead, and we return to the monitor. Drink in hand, my father’s long strides carry him toward our Russian friend in no time. Just as the man is set to climb up the stairs, my father cuts in front of him, blocking his path.
Suddenly, my composed parent is wobbling on his feet and sloshing his drink. He’s careful in his act, spilling the drink and hitting right in the middle of the Russian man’s chest. Just enough to get past the suit and stain his white button-down.
“Oh, my God.” Marco snorts. “Is he pretending to be drunk?”
“Brilliant.” Leo chuckles.
My father pats the man’s chest before gesturing dramatically at his ruined suit and calling over a waiter. Procuring a napkin, my father holds up a hand requesting the man stay still while he sends the waiter to fetch what I assume is sparkling water to get the stain out.
On a monitor above, Amanda, Sadie, and Cassandra weave through guests toward their escape.
The Soviet, aggravated, finally pushes past my father and bounds up the stairs.
“Come on, girls,” I mutter, my shoulders tensing as they arrive at the security entrance.
Just as the man reaches the top of the staircase, the door flings open, and Lucas ushers the girls in. It slams shut as our Russian snaps his head toward them.
“Did he see them?” Marco asks.
“I don’t think so,” Leo says. “He’s going the other way.”
Sure enough, the man turns the opposite direction, assuming the girls walked the perimeter toward the far wall.
“Lucas says they’re good.” Leo taps on his earpiece.
Marco’s phone buzzes with a text.
“Dad asked if he got us enough time.”
“Tell him he was spot on.” I nod.
The entrance to the security hub clicks open, attracting our attention. Amanda, Sadie, and Cassandra rush in, expressions laced with concern. Lucas follows behind.
“What the hell happened?” Amanda asks, joining us at Marco’s side.
“Unexpected visitors,” Leo explains.
“Who?” Cassandra’s eyes search mine as her chest rises and falls with anxious breaths.
I glance at Sadie, unsure how much she knows about our adversaries.
“You can trust me.” She rolls her eyes. “I was in California with Cassie when she got abducted, remember?”
At my side, I fist my hands, rage building with the reminder. “We think a few members of the Kozlova family and the Medina Cartel crashed the party.”
“What are they after?” Amanda asks.
Cassandra snorts, tipping her head back, face toward the ceiling. “If I had to guess, I’d say they’re looking for all of us.”
“That’s our theory,” Leo says, turning to the monitors and frowning. “They’re on the move.”
Our whole group crowds around as our associates flip between cameras, following the four men.
The Bratva soldier from the ballroom is back in the casino, speaking into his watch while both cartel members stand from gaming tables and beeline toward the elevator bank near the lobby.
“Where the fuck are they going?” Marco asks.
“I don’t get it.” Lucas crosses his arms as he stands straight. “I’ve got men stationed there.”
“They don’t know we’re watching them.” My lips curl at the side. “They still think they have the upper hand.”
The Bratva pair meet by the casino bar. To anyone on the floor, they look like they’re nonchalantly enjoying the party as they stroll toward the main elevators.
The four men remain in their duos, pretending not to know each other.
When they arrive at the elevator bank, one of the cartel members hits the up button.
A Romano-Tariello associate eyes them warily and nudges the soldier beside him.
“Lucas, tell our guys to let them go upstairs,” I instruct.
Lucas mumbles into his earpiece, and our men glance discreetly toward our surveillance camera.
The quartet of adversaries enters a lift and nods at the bellhop, placed to ensure people only visit the floor we have open for preview.
“Shit.” Lucas reaches over to a keyboard, switching the feed so we can see inside the elevator. He turns up the volume as this camera has an audio option. “I shouldn’t have left Danny on his own.”
We focus on the screen, realizing how much danger our young soldier is in without backup.
“He’s armed?” I ask.
“Yeah,” Lucas says. “He’s well trained, but I doubt he can take on four guys at once.”
“Tell him to exit the elevator when it stops. Act like he’s ushering the guests onto the floor.”
Lucas nods and pulls out his phone. “He doesn’t have an earpiece. I’ve got to text him.”
Danny lifts his wrist to check his Apple Watch when the text goes through. His head lifts before he schools his features, and his lips curl. Our Russian from the ballroom raises his brows, watching like a hawk.
“He’s the leader,” I deduce, pointing at the screen.
“I got the same feeling,” Leo says.
Danny tilts his head back and forth, chuckling. “Girlfriend,” he says with a laugh. “She, uh, has some plans for after my shift.”
One of the cartel men laughs and pats Danny on the shoulder. “Is she hot?” His accent is thick, clearly from the west coast of Mexico.
“Ten out of ten,” Danny says. “You want to see?” He pulls out his phone and shows them the lock screen.
The cartel member whistles. “Muy bonita. Congratulations, my friend.”
The elevator stops, and the doors open on the fourth floor.
“Here we are, gentlemen.” Danny steps out, holding his arm toward the floor of guest rooms where partygoers mingle and discuss the luxurious features of the hotel.
A sinister grin crosses the face of our Russian leader.
“Don’t fucking move.” He pulls his gun out, discreetly holding it by his side as he points it at Danny.
“If you tell your boss we’re here, we’ll come hunt you and your girlfriend down, and we’ll take turns fucking her sweet pussy while you watch.
Then we’ll slit both your throats and let you bleed out. ”
“Charming,” Sadie mutters.
Danny’s hand twitches at his side while Lucas frantically texts, telling him to stand down.
The elevator doors slide closed, and the Russian turns to his crew.
“Where to, Boss?” the other Bratva member asks, fingers hovering over the buttons.
“Twelfth floor. We’ll take the stairs to the thirteenth from there. It’s reserved for staff and should get us to the back elevator banks. We need to find the security offices and wait for Tariello there. He won’t see us coming in his own domain.”
“You really think that kid won’t say anything?” the subordinate asks.
“Did you see his face?” the cartel member who talked with Danny laughs. “He was scared shitless.”
“Now, where the fuck is the security camera? There’s got to be one in here.” The leader glances around the elevator’s ceiling.
The second cartel member tilts his head. “You don’t think they’ve already seen us on the camera?”
“Remember, Anatoliy’s got a tech guy covering the feed for us.”
Next to me, Leo laughs. “Does he now?”
“There.” The subordinate Russian points at the camera, nearly imperceptible in the corner of the elevator.
“Good eye.” The leader lifts his gun, shoots, and the camera goes black.
“God damnit,” Leo mutters. “Now I’m going to have to replace that.”
I scratch my forehead, breaking down a battle plan as a thought enters my mind. “How the hell do they even know where to go? Could they have been to the property recently?”
Leo grunts, his lips pressing tight. “I wondered the same thing and had a few of our men start watching security footage from the past couple of weeks. But turns out there was a news report we missed.” He indicates to a nearby associate.
“Mr. Tariello.” The man steps forward. “A few weeks ago, the county clerk’s office was broken into. They didn’t find much missing, but there was speculation that the blueprints for recently built hotels were tampered with.”
“Jesus Christ.” I rub my palm over my face. “Leo when this is over, find out who the hell is responsible for those records and get them fired for neglecting to inform us that our fucking blueprints were compromised.”
Leo nods before turning back to the monitors.
Our group shifts toward the middle of the room while my men switch to monitor the twelfth floor.
“Now what?” Sadie asks, wringing her hands as she shuffles closer to Lucas.
“We get ready for a fight.” I shrug, retrieving my gun from my waist holster. Marco and Lucas follow suit.
Cassandra sighs, grabbing my attention as she reaches under her dress and between her legs, pulling a tiny derringer from a thigh holster. “Let’s do this.”
My mouth drops open, and my eyebrows hit my hairline before a growl escapes my throat.
“Fuck no.”