Chapter Three
Milo
I hadn’t been to Atlantic City since my senior year in high school, when a bunch of my friends and I piled too deep into a car, drove down, and used our fake IDs to get absolutely plastered.
The memories of the casinos, strip clubs, and partying were blurry at best. But I distinctly remembered waking up on the beach, sand in my eyes, up my nose, in my mouth, with no shirt, no shoes, and a tattoo on the back of my neck that my mother still gave me shit about.
I didn’t know how much free time I was going to have on this job, nor how long I would be in AC, but I wouldn’t mind the chance to let loose a little, have some fun memories to bring back to Navesink Bank with me.
The town looked more or less like I remembered. The same way Vegas did in the daylight, honestly. Which was a hell of a lot less glamorous than it looked at sunset and in the dark. But it had the usual busy beach destination charm that I was familiar with.
There were plenty of niche tourist shops, but many appeared closed, and it was hard to tell which ones were boarded up for the season and which were closed for good.
I knew the area had been struggling for years since the casino collapse, rapid unemployment, and the usual crime that came along with it.
Though as I passed several interesting eateries that hadn’t been around when I’d visited last, I wondered if maybe it could become more of a foodie destination, rather than gambling one.
I had to imagine Remo saw a lot of potential to make major money in the area, if he chose it over other towns with less of a population decline and more year-round appeal.
Maybe he liked that the crime rate was a little iffy in areas. And that there wasn’t a huge foothold with any large criminal organizations in the town anymore.
I guess the next few years would tell what his plans were… and if he could accomplish them.
My hotel was all gleaming windows reaching high into the sky.
“Nice digs,” Domenico said as he pulled up next to me in the parking lot while I was pulling my suitcases out of the trunk.
I’d never packed so heavy in my life. But when no one had any information on how long this job was going to go for, I figured it was better to have more clothes than not enough. I didn’t want to constantly be waiting for dry cleaning.
Domenico, it seemed, packed lighter. But he wasn’t like me, always wearing suits, so he probably fit a lot more in his one medium-sized suitcase and duffle than I fit in two suitcases, a messenger bag, and a travel bag.
“You moving in?” Dom asked, eyeing my setup as I stacked my suitcases and travel bag before slinging the messenger bag over my shoulder.
“I got the feeling that this might be weeks, not days.”
“Probably,” he agreed. “This is more shit than I had to my name the whole time I was inside,” he said, shrugging.
“Did you get an ocean view too?” I asked as we started to walk toward the front door.
“Yeah. Luca sprang for a suite with a living room and shit.”
We made it through check-in then took the elevator up to our floor.
“At least we’re not right next to each other. Don’t need to hear it if you bring someone back to your room.”
With that, Dom made his way down the hall to his room as I let myself into mine.
I was instantly met with a wall of windows overlooking the sea, making the very white suite feel less stark.
I walked into the sitting room featuring a few different chairs and sofas in shades of blue with a small kitchenette that included a small counter, sink, fridge, and a microwave.
I rolled my suitcases through to the bedroom.
The all-white theme continued, but the coffered ceiling, intricate millwork, and chandelier made it feel elevated and elegant. The tile floor had a subtle design in a golden shade, and I decided I immediately preferred the tile to the dubiously clean carpeting.
The bed itself was king-sized and offered a padded headboard, a seating ottoman at the foot, and lush linen bedding.
I left most of my luggage in the bedroom, taking only the travel bag into the bathroom.
Again, with the white. But there were crown moldings, millwork, mullioned windows, a soaking tub, and a deep shower niche. The floors and shower featured marble with light gold veining, and gold accents were on the knobs, faucets, and wall sconces.
It was a nice place to spend a few weeks.
I spent the next half an hour hanging up my suits and organizing my toiletries while calling to tell Luca we’d made it, checked in, and were just waiting for Remo to make contact.
Then, restless, I grabbed my keycard, left my real phone, took my burner, and made my way down the hall toward Domenico’s room.
I knocked, and it was just a few seconds before the door opened.
“Wanna explore?”
“Sure,” he agreed. “Place looks dead as fuck, but I’m sure we can find something to do.”
If nothing else, the casinos were always operating.
We were only about halfway to the door when two men stood up from chairs in the lobby waiting area. Both were tall, well-groomed, dark-haired, and dark-eyed. They buttoned their jackets, but not before I spotted the guns in their shoulder holsters.
Dom must have clocked it the same time I did because his arm went out, catching me across the midsection.
“Milo, Domenico,” one of the men said before either of us could reach for our own weapons. “Remo sent us to get you.”
The tension slipped out of our bodies as we followed the two men out the front doors.
We weren’t led to waiting cars.
We just walked in silence down the nearly empty pier, looking conspicuous as hell. But the guys didn’t seem the least bit bothered, so I forced myself to keep my shoulders relaxed so we didn’t draw any more attention to ourselves than necessary.
When we turned toward a massive, old, abandoned-looking mall, Dom and I shared a look but followed the guys in through the doors.
And, yep, sure enough, it was a mall. Except, it really wasn’t.
No one milled about.
Storefronts were all boarded up.
Escalators were frozen in place.
The floors were covered in dust and old litter.
It was the perfect place to kill someone.
We walked around the center atrium before the guys turned down a small hallway full of more empty stores.
They opened the doors of a frosted glass shop and waited for us to move inside.
Domenico and I shared another quick glance but moved inside, deciding to put our trust in our blood, even if we’d never even met this Remo guy.
“The fuck…” Dom said when we walked into a room full of candles, their flames flickering, their wax melting.
“Don’t worry,” a voice called as we stopped short. “It’s not a ritual sacrifice. Just a ghost mall.”
A shadow moved, and then a man stepped into the center of the circle illuminated by the candles.
Then there he was.
Remo Grassi.
He was dressed in black slacks and a black button-up. His sleeves were rolled to reveal forearms covered in black and gray ink.
He was, like most of the Grassi men, tall and fit with dark hair. Only he didn’t have dark eyes. No. His were an unexpected light shade of green. Square jaw, cleft chin, thick lashes.
And probably closer to my age than all my cousins’ ages. Young for a boss.
I had to respect that.
“Word is, they’re going to start using this place as a studio. For recording movies and shit. I’ll be sad to see it go. But, let’s face it, this town has no shortage of locations for business meetings. So, you’re my long-lost cousins.”
“Milo,” I said. “And Domenico.”
“So, what’d you two do to get sent down here to work with me?” Remo asked.
“Not get married,” I said.
“Your moms on your asses too?” he asked, shaking his head. “Swear she’s gonna kidnap it when I finally do have a kid. Anyway, thanks for coming down.”
“Always happy to be working,” I said, shrugging. “So is this your whole crew?” I asked, nodding toward the two men who had picked us up at the hotel.
“Nah. I got a few others. And my brothers. I’m not looking to expand quickly. I want to be smart about it. Won’t do me any good if I grow fast and have a bunch of rats to deal with.”
“So, what’s the deal around here?” Dom asked.
“Dunno how much of the city you’ve seen, but AC has been struggling the past… decade. Or two. Collapse of casinos and tourism led to unemployment, population decline, and a fuckuva lot of drugs.”
“Lot of street gangs you’re dealing with here?”
“A few. And a local bike gang too. But nothing I’m too worried about. Our focus isn’t the same. I’m not interested in drugs.”
“So it’s an established organization you’re dealing with.”
“Yeah, something like that.”
“What is it? Irish mafia? Bratva?” I asked.
“Triad? Yakuza? Cartel?” Dom piped in.
“I wish,” Remo said with a huff of a laugh. “What I’m dealing with is a sniveling little shit named Frank Martin.”
“Not organized crime then,” I said.
“Not in the traditional sense. He does have people working for him. He is connected to a network of crime and corruption. But his main claim to fame right now is he bought out one of the defunct smaller casinos on a fire sale with his dead father’s money a few years back.”
“Great way to clean dirty money, if he’s got it,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“That’s why you want it.”
“Well, it’s part of why I want it,” Remo said with a smirk. “I also want to make it a residence for me and mine.”
“You want to live above a casino?” I asked. My dreams of a nice house with a big backyard couldn’t get on board with that.
“Can you think of a safer place to live?” Remo shot back.
Well, he had a point there.
Especially when he was going to be actively working on taking over the town. Which was going to come with a lot of tension and danger.
“So, what’s the plan? Take him out?”
“Not exactly. I wouldn’t need help with that. If he dies, the casino sits empty for years until it hits the market again. I don’t want to waste that time. I want to… persuade him to sell it to me. If he happens to fall off the roof afterward, hey, that’s just fate.”
“So, what’s your move?”