Regan Harris Box Set

by Kelly Wood

  “Yes, Passion. You are annoying and manipulative and caring and loving. And, sometimes even smart when you allow yourself to be.” I pulled her head down and gave her a noogie.

  “You two ready to end this round?” Gray asked. My world grew larger again. Frank stood off to the side talking on his cell phone. The crowds around us were thinning out as people were being let back into the hotel. The emergency crews shuffled around, but no one hustled. I assumed the fire must’ve been minor otherwise the chaos would still be going on.

  “Come on.” I put my arm around Passion and led her back to the hotel. I assumed Gray and Frank would follow us. “I will try and help. I don’t know what I can do, but I will try. I have one condition, though.”

  “Oh, boy. What?”

  “I don’t start until the morning. This is my honeymoon after all.”

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Franky September 1988

  “You’re leaving?” Franky stared at Guy as he leaned against the stud of the unfinished wall. “You can’t leave.”

  “I can,” Guy shot back.

  “Just like that? You’re the son of Antonio Bianchi. Don’t you get it? You can’t just leave.”

  “I can, and I am.” Guy’s gaze never lingered from Franky’s. Franky could see the determination in it.

  “What will you do?” Franky asked. “You’ve never worked a day in your life.”

  “I’ll figure something out.”

  “Please. You’re soft. You won’t make it a day without money.” Franky paced in the small space, running his fingers through his hair. It stuck up in odd places, contrasting with the perfection of his tuxedo.

  “I’m doing this. Say whatever you want, but I’m done.”

  “You are just an ungrateful punk. Your whole life is set here. Money, house, casino, clothes, food. Anything you’ll need, and you’re going to walk away. And, for what? Some crush?”

  Guy sprang up at the insult on Gracie. She wasn’t a crush. She was his love, his life. Franky and Guy circled one another like caged animals. Both wanting to strike and yet hoping it wouldn’t come to that. The two had been closer than brothers their whole lives. Neither wanted to end it, but neither was willing to back down either. Guy stopped pacing, kicking a lone hammer out of his way.

  “She’s not some floozy I picked up. I want to marry her. Have children with her.”

  “So, do that. Here.” Franky pointed at the ground as he spoke.

  “She’s better than this. I can’t have her around, worrying who may get to her. I can’t make her a prisoner of this life. I won’t.”

  “A prisoner? She’d have everything here. You’d be able to protect her here.”

  “I don’t want here. Listen to me.” Guy pulled at his hair with both hands. He paced in the short hallway. Two steps there. Two steps back. “I want a life. A real life with Gracie.”

  “How? You have nothing. Your father owns everything.” Frank practically growled out his reply.

  “I’ll... I’ll make a deal with the Feds. I’ll get a new life with Gracie and... we’ll start over. A safe life for us.” Music from the party above echoed down to them. Upstairs couples were dancing, drinking champagne. Down below, Franky’s life was crumbling.

  “You’d be a traitor? A snitch? I never would’ve pegged you for that.”

  “I’m doing what’s best for my family,” Guy defended his position, standing up straighter as he spoke.

  “Your family? Your family that you’re going to send to prison?” Franky jabbed his index finger in Guy’s chest with each word. Through the rage, a small cloud of logic formed. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “So, you have a chance, too.”

  “You think I’ll turn traitor, too? Hell, no.”

  “Franky, you’ll go down with them. Especially after the last few months.”

  “The family’s made it through scandal before. We’ll do it again.”

  Guy grabbed the lapels of Franky’s coat, forcing their eyes to meet. “No, you won’t. The family barely made it through the last one. We lost some good men to prison time. Don’t be one of them Franky. Come with me. You can change your life. Have a chance to make something of it.”

  “No, Guy, this is your chance. You’ve always been a selfish brat. I’m not going,” Franky said.

  Guy shook Franky once before releasing him. “You have always been a stubborn mule.” Guy blew out the breath he’d been holding. “Then I need a favor.” Franky stopped straightening the front of his shirt. A favor? The gall of him. Guy didn’t hesitate as he continued. “Give me an hour before you tell Antonio.”

  Guy’s use of his father’s first name was Franky’s first clue how serious Guy was about leaving. Up until that point, Franky thought Guy was blowing smoke. Guy never stuck with any one idea long. Franky thought he’d be able to talk Guy down from the ledge, get some sense back into him. Even if he couldn’t talk him into staying, maybe that was for the better. Franky had started his college courses, and they were going well. Antonio and Garrett Costa had plans for him, plans for his future. What would it matter if Guy walked away? Nothing. But, it would matter if he walked away talking.

  “I get it, I think. You picture you and Gracie with a house, white picket fence, kids. I get it. You don’t want the image ruined with a drive-by, but Guy, whatever you do, don’t turn rat. This is your family, literally and figuratively. Leave, but don’t talk.”

  “I have to.” Guy slumped back against the construction wall. Antonio and Costa had wasted no time in reorganizing. The sublevels were already under construction for new counting rooms. Talk had gone back and forth about adding an underground tunnel between the two properties. There was no way to bypass Caesar’s, though. The little boy in Franky would’ve loved a secret passage.

  “Go to your dad. Maybe he could front you start-up for your new life.”

  “I tried. This is the only way. I don’t have any money of my own. This way we can start fresh,” Guy said with almost a whine in his voice.

  “Are you sure? Are you going to be able to live with yourself, knowing you put away your brothers? Your father? Me? For what? A new name and some pocket change each month?”

  Guy met Franky’s eyes before answering. “Yeah, I can. For her.”

  “This is it?”

  “Yeah, this is it. I’m out. Good luck to ya, Franky. Stay safe.” Guy turned and started to walk away, secure in knowing Franky would grant him the favor.

  In the last few months, Franky’s life had shown a light at the end of the tunnel. He’d stopped running petty hustles on the street. He’d moved up the ranks quickly. First, protecting Antonio from the ambush. Second, bringing Costa and Antonio closer with a plan. Third, killing Milano. Franky could almost grasp the golden ticket. His life would be set. No more scraping by for food and housing. No more secondhand clothes that didn’t quite fit. No more hustling to make a dime. It was all disappearing before his eyes. Because one rich, snot-nosed punk had fallen in love and was willing to turn his back on his real family.

  Franky glanced down at his feet, closing in on the hammer that Guy had kicked his way. It was supposed to be Franky and Guy at the top. It was supposed to the two of them against the world. Guess it’ll just be me, then, Franky thought.

  “Wait.” Franky barely whispered the word. Guy stopped walking. He kept his back to Franky for a solid minute before turning around and walking back to him. Guy never saw the strike coming. He never felt the hammer strike his temple. His body crumpled at Franky’s feet.

  Franky felt no remorse. After all, he was doing nothing more than protecting his family. His true family. The one that had protected him. Franky still held the hammer in his hand when he heard Gracie calling Guy’s name. He dropped it near the body, covering both with a discarded drop cloth, and hurried to her before she found him.

  Franky would come back later when the party was dying down to deal with the body. Right now, his focus was on distracting Gracie and coming up w
ith a lie about Guy’s whereabouts. Franky wiped the sweat from his brow, straightened his tuxedo and walked away from his best friend.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  I yawned again behind my hand, trying unsuccessfully to hide it. My cold shower was only a temporary fix to my lack of sleep. Frank, Passion, and Gray waited for my yawn to pass before continuing.

  “Sorry. Start at the beginning, Frank,” I said.

  “I don’t know what the beginning looks like. If you’d asked me that a few days ago, I would’ve said just this week. But, looking back, it’s been happening for months.” Frank paced behind his desk as he spoke, his hands punctuating the air with each word. Passion sat on the edge of his desk kicking her feet. Gray and I occupied the two chairs for guests.

  “What’s been happening? My hair? The pool?” Irritation came through in my tone. I’d learned Frank was very good at using words without saying a thing.

  “Yes, but more. My car not starting.”

  “Sometimes cars don’t start,” Gray said, his tone smooth and conciliatory. I shot him a smile acknowledging his attempt to smooth out my anger.

  “Because someone unhooked the battery? That’s deliberate.”

  “True,” I conceded. “What else?”

  “A few times it has felt like someone was watching us,” Passion said. “I’d get that creepy feeling on the back of my neck.” Passion shuddered like she had spiders crawling on her.

  “Listen, I’ll give you that someone blew up your pool since I witnessed it, but the rest I don’t buy. Passion, people watch you all the time. You’re beautiful. You turn every head when you walk into a room—”

  “Exactly, Regan. I know what’s it’s like when people openly stare, and I know what’s it’s like to be watched. It’s different.” Passion stood with her outburst, moving toward Frank. He stopped pacing and put his arms around her. Once again, I was jarred by the age difference.

  “Fine. You’ve been watched and the pool has blown up.” I rolled my eyes at Gray.

  “Don’t forget your hair!” Passion said. I ran my fingers through the short locks and down to the back of my neck. My naked, exposed neck.

  “The stylist could’ve mixed up the chemicals.” Gray pulled my hand to his mouth and kissed my palm. His tongue flicked out, teasing the sensitive area. I jerked my hand away and shoved it under my thigh. If he kept the flirting up, I’d drag him back to our room to enjoy our marital status.

  “I don’t hire people who make mistakes,” Frank declared. “There’s more. The police are questioning if the man jumped or was pushed. His wife was arrested but released. Either way, it’s a PR nightmare. Especially right before the grand reopening. Nancy, my head of Public Relations has been missing since yesterday. The fire alarm last night. Thank God nothing burned and no one was hurt.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “It was all just smoke and mirrors. A hack in the system set the alarms off while smoke bombs were set off on the third floor.”

  “These all sound like meaningless pranks, stuff teenagers would do,” I said.

  “They would be if we weren’t celebrating our grand reopening this weekend. These pranks are costing me millions. Reservations are already starting to be canceled. I can’t let this happen. I’ve sunk everything I own into updating this casino. I’ll be ruined if it fails.”

  “Uncle Frank, let’s rewind. I think we should look at a different angle. Who would benefit from the hotel failing?”

  “No one!”

  “No one? Not even my father? Until your remodel, his hotel was the biggest and brightest on the strip,” Gray said.

  “Your father and I work together. It’s not him.” Frank waved off the suggestion but there was fear in his eyes. They glazed over as his mind went somewhere else.

  “Then who else? Who has a grudge?” I asked. I sat forward in the chair, eager to hear his response.

  “I, uh, I—”

  “Oh, come on. Nobody is liked by everyone.” I used the arms of the chair to propel myself to my feet. It was my turn to pace. “What about those two guys I met the first time I was here?”

  “Who? Sal and Tony?” Frank asked. He let go of Passion and sat in his desk chair. “It’s not them, either. Those two have been with me since the beginning. I glanced at Gray, realizing I’d forgotten to tell him last night about seeing them on the smoke-filled floor.

  I picked up where I’d left off. “Aren’t they Antonio’s sons? Why’d you get the family business and not them? If I’m not mistaken, you aren’t even related to Antonio Bianchi?”

  “You’re looking at this all wrong. They each own part of the business. I own a majority. Antonio made it very clear before he passed that it was in their best interest. I have a head for business. I did well in school. Neither of them had an interest in the tedious day-to-day affairs of running a company.”

  I listened to his words but was more focused on what he wasn’t saying. Frank had experience in interviews. The face of any good company knew how to put their best foot forward. I had a stuffed file full of examples of his doing just that.

  Gray and I locked eyes. An upspoken signal passed between us. I nodded my head slightly in receipt.

  “Stop with PR crap, Frank,” I said.

  “Excuse me?” Frank wasn’t used to subordinates talking back to him.

  “I did my homework. Sal was accused of heinous crimes but never convicted. The man would stab his own grandmother if it benefitted him. And Tony? He’s a playboy. Even more so than you. From my impression, he enjoys the benefits of the money.”

  “Your point?” Frank asked.

  “My point is you have the most money. The most power. The control. You’ve done the hard work rebuilding the hotel. All of your incomes will probably double. Why wouldn’t either of them want it now?”

  Frank took a moment to digest my thoughts. He shook his head when he came to his conclusion.

  “You’re wrong,” Frank said.

  “Really? How is the ownership broken down?”

  “I have sixty percent. Each of them has twenty.”

  “That’s a big difference in the money being split.”

  “You are barking up the wrong tree,” Frank said, sticking to his line of thinking.

  “Am I?” I faced Frank head-on, placing my hands on his desk and leaning down to look in his eyes. “Maybe after thirty years the seed of resentment has grown into a tree.”

  “Regan.” The exasperation in Passion’s voice was clear. Our dad pounded this into our heads growing up.

  “Passion, it’s true.” I turned my focus back to Frank. “When Antonio died, all of you were young. Sal and Tony could probably justify why their dad left the business to you to run. Fast forward thirty years. Seeing Frank with more money, more power, more prestige, more everything. The resentment could’ve built until they wanted to do something about it.”

  “I appreciate your thoughts on this, Regan, but you are wrong. Let’s keep brainstorming,” Frank said.

  I rolled my eyes and grunted in frustration. Frank may have tabled the theory, but it didn’t mean I couldn’t do more digging later. I let it slide, for now.

  “Fine. What about the other brother? The one that went missing?”

  “He’s dead,” Frank said.

  Frank’s comment was like a bucket of cold water to my face. So much for that theory.

  “He is? I must’ve missed that article. When did they find him?”

  “He hasn’t been found, but Guy was my best friend. I knew him inside and out. He loved Gracie and never would’ve left her by choice. He would’ve fought tooth and nail to return to her. He hasn’t.”

  “But we don’t know for sure.” I was unwilling to give up my line of thinking. Again.

  “Maybe this is all a mistake. Regan, I’m sorry we dragged you into this, but this is clearly over all of our heads,” Frank said.

  “Passion?” I asked.

  Passion hesitated as she looked at Frank. Af
ter a shaky breath, she turned her focus to me.

  “I’m sorry, Regan.”

  “Am I being fired?” I asked.

  “Yes.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gray held me by the elbow as he ushered me out of Frank’s office, into the elevator, and then out of the hotel. I kept my mouth shut until we were on Las Vegas Boulevard and walking toward the Bellagio.

  “It’s like they gave a dog a bone. And then when he sunk his teeth into it? They wrestled it away,” I said.

  “Are you comparing yourself to a dog?” Gray asked.

  “Yes. No. I don’t know.”

  “I fought them not to get involved and Passion begged me. Begged me. And then, what? Eight hours later? They fire me! I wasn’t even being paid!” I talked with my arms flailing. I jumped and twisted while making my points. I stabbed at the air with my index finger.

  Gray stopped walking in front of the fountains. I grabbed the rail and pulled back. I bent my body, stretching my arms and back. With my head facing the sidewalk, I took deep breaths until my anger subsided.

  “I’m quitting.”

  “You were fired.”

  I glanced up at Gray, shooting daggers. “I know. I’m quitting the article. I’m done. Finished. Those two have pulled my last nerve.”

  I straightened up and leaned against Gray. His solid body helped to center me more. Gray wrapped one arm around my waist pulling my back to his chest. The fountains erupted in a dazzling display.

  “What would you like to do now?” Gray asked.

  “I don’t know. Honestly.”

  Gray rested his chin on the top of my head. We sat in silence until the show was over. I pondered what I wanted to happen.

  “Is the dog ready to give up the bone?”

  “No, but it is, technically, our honeymoon. I will give up the bone for that,” I said. I wrapped my arms over his.

  “What’s stopping you?” Gray asked.

  “Passion.”

  “She fired you.”

  “She’s flighty. It takes her awhile to figure out what she wants.” Gray heard the smile in my voice.