Craving The Demon: A Standalone Enemies To Lovers Mafia Romance

by Rebel Hart

  “Yeah. I’m not sure what her deal is, but she serves on a board of directors, or Jade does. All people over forty and then a hot, young, mid-20s woman.” Shay lowered her brow at the word ‘hot,’ and I winced. “Sorry.”

  “I see fifty people a day, and everyone blends together, but if I see someone that fits the description, I’ll call you.”

  “Thanks. I really appreciate it. I know I’m a dick. Thank you.” My initial reaction was to go in for a hug, but I didn’t and settled for giving her a friendly punch against the shoulder before turning and finishing my trek down the hallway.

  Baylor was still sitting at the table munching on a piece of bacon while scrolling through his phone. There was a line of breakfast foods on the kitchen counter, and I loaded a plate up and joined him.

  “Hey,” he said, without even looking up. “I thought you’d already be on the street right now.”

  “You’re not the only one, but I’m taking this slow, you know? I like to run and gun, but if I mess this up, I’m not getting another chance, so I’m being careful.”

  An impressed expression came across Baylor’s face. “You actually sound like you’ve matured. I’m surprised.”

  I laughed as I stabbed my fork into some eggs and lifted them to my mouth. “I wouldn’t write any checks on it. You know me, I could be shaking my dick around any moment.”

  “Bryce!”

  Baylor snickered. “Wow. That’s the fastest a woman’s ever come running when you mentioned your dick.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I growled at him through gritted teeth as I stood up from the table. “Shay. What’s up?”

  “I remembered something that I think you’ll find useful,” she said, then she opened up her phone and showed me the screen. “Look familiar?”

  The woman on the screen did not have red or blond hair, nor did she look young enough to be the woman I was looking for, but that didn’t matter—she bore a striking resemblance to the woman I was looking for. She had bright, shining green eyes and looked like what I imagined my target would look like if she were older and wearing a chocolate brown wig instead.

  “A family member?” I asked.

  “I’m assuming. That’s why she looked so familiar to me, it wasn’t because I’ve dressed her, it’s because I’ve dressed this woman.”

  “Does this woman have a name?” I asked.

  “Yes, and you’re not going to like it,” she said. “This is Shelly Westun, the matriarch of the Westun family.”

  “Fuck,” I growled.

  The Westun family was the oldest and most notorious family in Las Vegas. Shelly, at least as far as I understood it, was an underboss beneath her husband, a known sociopath, Antonio Westun. I knew they had children, but from what my mom had told me, only sons. A younger, female Westun is unknown to us.

  “Yeah.” Shay returned my awkward shoulder punch from earlier. “Good luck with that.”

  She walked off down the hallway and out of sight and I looked down at Baylor, who’d finally broken away from his phone to give me a look of shock and confusion.

  “Your target’s a Westun?” he said.

  “There is a slight possibility,” I said. “I’m gonna go find out.”

  Baylor stood up from his chair and grabbed my arm just as I was about to bolt. “You need to tell Mom.”

  “Mom told me only to come to her with developments. Who I think this woman might be, isn’t one.” I tried to yank my arm from Baylor, but he kept a firm grip. Rather than get irritated, I took a breath—I knew he was just looking out for me. “Don’t worry. I’m not gonna do anything reckless. Dad gave me a contact, I’m just gonna see if he can point me in the right direction. All I want is a name, then I’ll tell Mom.”

  “Swear?” Baylor barked.

  I nodded. “I swear.”

  He loosened his grip on my arm and I took off flying down the stairs and continued right out through the front door. My heart was pounding, and my blood was coursing at top speed. It’d been a long time since I had the adrenaline rush of a hot streak.

  I didn’t realize how much I’d missed it.

  As I got into my car, I took a few moments to send a text to my dad’s contact. “Dardo. I got your number from my dad. I’m wondering if you can look up Shelly Westun for me and tell me if she has any daughters? Money is no object for this information; the sooner the better.”

  Barely a minute passed, only long enough for me to get my car turned on, when I got a response. “Send me your email address and I’ll send you a link to pay. Once payment has been received, I’ll send the information you’re looking for.”

  I sent my email address and then pulled away from the estate. With Shay’s tip, I was starting to form a plan, and if I could just lay eyes on “Jade,” I’d be happy. Maybe I didn’t know who this woman was just yet, but one thing had been beaten over my head when we first moved to town: the Westuns’ territory. The main Las Vegas strip went all the way from the Delano and Mandalay Bay at one end to the Stratosphere past Circus Circus on the other. So as not to be forced past the unofficial ends of the strip, it was now beginning to expand to the sides, which is where a lot of people in positions like my family chose to live, in order to be close without being smack dab in the thick of it.

  The Westuns did the opposite.

  Though I didn’t know where they lived specifically, everyone knew that they operated the area of the strip from the Mirage and the Venetian down to the Fashion Show Mall and the Encore. This area, though small by comparison to the entire strip, was responsible for 40% of the strip’s earnings on its own. The casinos laid therein were some of the most popular amongst tourists, and they had some of the most cliche Vegas-y attractions. Our work didn’t clash with theirs, hypothetically, because the Westuns were a more typical organized crime family that dealt in drugs and guns mostly, while my family dealt in technology and information, but they were as possessive as lions.

  Turns out, mob bosses don’t like to share, who knew?

  There were times that called for just putting your feet on the ground and looking for your target with your own two eyes. This was one of those times. Even if my dad’s contact could get me a name, if I couldn’t see the woman I was looking for, I certainly wouldn’t be able to kill her. Within a week, I’d know her entire routine, exactly how to find her at any time of the day, and would be working on the best way to kill her.

  So long as I could just see her right now.

  Parking a little out of the way, I walked onto the strip, sifting into the growing crowds of the late morning. Most of the people that looked like me wouldn’t be out until later in the day, so I left my jacket behind in my car and just wore my t-shirt to keep my visibility low. I also pulled my hair back and decided to go without sunglasses in spite of the bright sun. People dressed like they were hiding something, with hats or glasses, often drew more attention than people dressed normally, and that was the concept I was relying on to keep me hidden as I made my way down towards Treasure Island.

  Standing in the middle of their area of the strip, I glanced up and down the strip and the adjacent streets. For as territorial as they were, I highly doubted they lived in a place where they couldn’t see what was going on at all times. Even if their main home was well hidden, they had to have a place nearby where they could see, at a glance, what was going on. Baylor had moved his way into all of the casinos on the strip, including those in the Westuns’ territory. Though there had been some fallout afterwards, he’d been able to do things pretty easily in the moment without an issue, so they didn’t hang out in the casinos.

  The mall, maybe?

  My eyes continued to scan, working my experience following people and discerning useful information, and hoping to find anything of use, when finally, my eyes drifted up. I didn’t know Antonio Westun, but he felt like a higher ground kind of guy. The Venezia tower of the Venetian held rooms for their world famous, expensive resort, but the very top had a perfect viewpoint for this segment
of the strip.

  What better place to keep an eye on the goings on?

  Keeping my head low, and being sure not to attract any attention, I made my way into the Venetian hotel, doing what any other tourist would do, and stared in awe at the beautiful centerpiece fountain. I pulled out my phone and put it in selfie mode, joining dozens of people doing the exact same thing. Focusing my face in the lower corner of the screen, I did a walk around the lobby, making sure I got a good video of the entire lobby and spied the elevators that would lead up to Venezia tower. As far as I knew, it was the only way in or out. If my target was in there, I’d see her come out this way eventually.

  Standing near the elevators wasn’t an option, so I made my way back down the hallway and found a bench to sit on. There were some people lingering near the bench I picked, so I slid a little closer to them and tried to make it seem like I was in their party and just being anti-social. After I felt I was blending in enough, I pulled out my phone and checked my email, happy to see that Dardo had sent me an email.

  My stomach bottomed out at the sight of a thousand-dollar tab, but I told him money wasn’t an object, and supply and demand dictated how much anyone could charge for a service. I’d definitely have to make my own friends at the police department eventually, but without options for now, I pressed to pay the tab, and within a couple of minutes, I had a follow up email titled simply: INFORMATION.

  I clicked it and my eyes nearly popped out of my head. Suddenly, a thousand dollars seemed like a bargain. The email started with the phrase, “Shelly Westun’s daughter, Mariana Westun,” and very quickly turned into a full dossier on the woman, including her blood type, known contact numbers, and last known addresses. Surprisingly, she did not have a criminal record, which meant she was either left out of her father’s business, or she was really good at not getting caught.

  My penchant for chaos was hoping for the latter.

  Continuing to scroll, I got to the bottom of the page where the dossier ended with a picture of Mariana Westun. She looked a little different—blond hair and emerald green eyes—but it was definitely the woman I was looking for. More concerning than that, however, was the total package.

  She was hands down the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen in my life.

  Every few minutes I would work my eyes up, scan the people coming down the hallway from the elevators, and caught a break when I finally saw a couple of faces I did know, walking down the hallway. Marcos and TJ Westun, Antonio Westun’s sons and caporegimes. I hadn’t had the pleasure of meeting them personally yet, but my mom made sure I knew their faces and who to avoid—not because she was afraid of how they would act, but because she was afraid of how I would.

  And walking between them, with blond hair that settled just past her shoulders, plump lips, coke-bottle framed glasses, and green eyes, was a vision that put the artwork sprawling the Venetian’s ceiling to shame.

  I smiled as she passed without seeing me hiding out. Hello there, Mariana Westun.

  5

  Mari

  As much as I hated having drinks with the boring MasCat Tech board, it was all a means to an end. On the third Wednesday of each month, the Board of Directors met to discuss important issues and approve the CEO’s budget for the upcoming month. Getting admitted to the board was one of the most difficult things I’d ever done, as MasCat Tech had traditionally kept an all male, all sixty-year-old plus board. Somewhere along the way, the CEO got dinged with a sexism scandal and had brought on a few sixty-year-old plus women, but a young woman was still a no-go for him. I’d tried my damndest to play it straight, because I found being involved with people without the use of threats and extortion was best, but the CEO was a tough sell.

  “I have a daughter her age!” He repeated over and over and over.

  So I became friends with his daughter as Mariana Westun and was sitting at the table one night when he came over for dinner. I met his wife, other two children, and even his grandson. I learned everyone’s names and addresses and watched him sweat out his entire body’s water content over the course of a few hours.

  Then I got a call that following Monday that he’d love to have me participate on the Board of Directors and I was voted in at the following meeting in a unanimous vote.

  Sometimes you have to get a little dirty, you know?

  With my wig on and styled, my contacts in, and a very professional pantsuit hiding what I preferred to show off, I made my way to downtown Las Vegas where the MasCat Tech building was located. Today, the board would be voting, again, on whether or not to switch all of our technology to the new, innovative GDM technology, that would make operation of all of our software in the casinos on the strip run smoother and more efficiently. It would save time and money, and unlike what most technology did, it would create jobs where others might eliminate them, because the tech operated with constant oversight to ensure every penny was accounted for. Of the twelve members on the board, not including the CEO who posed the idea, eleven were for it and one had blocked it continuously for three months.

  I was that one.

  Sure, the technology would lead to higher success and prosperity for MasCat Tech, but there was one, very real issue with the technology.

  It was designed and operated by Gina Misterro, my family’s newest and most agitating rival.

  The Misterros popped up out of the blue in Vegas, with no explanation and a truck prepped and ready to steamroll all of Vegas’ existing crime groups. No one could compete with them because they sold modern luxuries like technology and information, and I’d heard they were even making a killing selling hospitals the medical supplies they would normally purchase from a medical supply company at a three-hundred or four-hundred percent markup.

  Las Vegas was the party city, and before the Misterros came, we’d all made our share and then some selling the kind of things people want when they come to party. Drugs, weapons, sexual partners, even exotic animals. For decades, the Vegas groups had butted heads but lived in relative peace. Everyone had a territory, and as long as those bounds weren’t pushed, everyone stayed in their lane. Then the Misterros came and had shops set up in every casino on the Las Vegas strip and half of them downtown or on the outskirts in a matter of about six months.

  Baylor Misterro, the younger of the brothers, started showing up in casinos all over Vegas like he was duplicating himself. We’re still unsure how he did it, but he’d been continuously able to hack into the slot machines. Every time the machines cashed out, they sent extra money to him. We’d tried everything from factory resets to purchasing new machines in the casinos my family helms, but nothing did the trick. We didn’t know how to fight back.

  And then there was Bryce.

  The older Misterro brother, from what we can tell, didn’t work for his family, but rather ran around the city causing trouble everywhere he landed. Marcos’ working theory was that his job was to distract people so that his parents and younger brother could work without issues, but I thought he was just a hothead with no self-control. On top of that, he was one of those gorgeous guys that you could tell always got everything he wanted. He looked more like a model than a crime boss, so the world fell at his feet.

  I hated guys like that more than anything.

  When it came to MasCat, our operations with them kept my family’s territory secured, as the CEO of the company was also a stockholder in the hotel groups that owned both the Mirage and the Wynn and Encore. Not only would converting to Gina Misterro’s technology allow her to do the upgraded version of what Baylor was doing, but with that kind of leverage in the company, she could have the entire board dumped or even shut us out of our territory once she learned who I really was. I hadn’t made friends by continuously being the one reason her sale didn’t take off; if she moved into that level of power, she would get rid of me first thing.

  My drinks with the board members over the weekend, I was hoping, would keep them from fighting back against me when I voted down in the meeting aga
in. Such a large decision required a unanimous vote from the board, and though I’d tried and failed to flip the vote, as long as everyone allowed me to continue voting ‘no’ without issue, the deal wouldn’t pass, and that was all I needed.

  In some way or another, Gina had to have gotten to them all. Some of them were downright terrified to flip their vote, and because I’d only been ‘Mariana Westun’ with the CEO to get on the board to begin with, they weren’t nearly as terrified of me as they were of her. I could do with them what I’d done with the CEO, but I had a sneaking suspicion that I’d lose going toe-to-toe with Gina in that arena, so my plan for the time being was just continue to vote no. If I ever felt like I was going to lose that power, then I’d be forced to admit to my dad that I needed some assistance, and that was the very last thing in the world that I wanted to do.

  “Good evening, Miss Meghan!” Stacey, the CEO’s assistant greeted me. She motioned to a table along the wall to the right where she had set out platters of baked chicken, steamed veggies, and rolls. “Help yourself to dinner. Mr. Asmu will be here in about ten minutes and then we’ll get started.”

  I smiled at her. “Thank you.”

  Some of the board members were already sitting around the table, so after collecting a plate of food, I found my nameplate and sat in the chair behind it. There was already a board meeting packet sitting in front of my chair and I could see from the schedule on the front that approving the GDM tech was first up to bat and there wasn’t much else after.

  “Hey Jade!” Rick greeted me. “Getting drinks on Saturday was a blast! I haven’t been out of the house like that in about ten years.”

  I tapped him on the shoulder as he was right next to me. “I know! Who knew you were such a party animal!” Then I looked across the table to Lindsey and Mary, two of the board’s only three other women. “And you two. I felt like I was out with my friends.”