by Nina West
“The family business.” I level Gabriel with a steady look. We’re getting dangerously close to discussing things he said he couldn’t discuss. “You don’t mean Empire, do you?”
He regards me a long moment before shaking his head once. “He can have it, for all Caleb and I care. We don’t want it.”
“So then let him have it—”
“It’s not that simple. My father is—” His lips twist. “—determined that we follow in his footsteps. He found out about my uncle’s betrayal recently, and needless to say, he wasn’t happy.”
A memory strikes me, of the hard-faced man with the pockmarks on his cheeks banging his fists against the table and storming away from Gabriel in the visitors’ room at Fulcort. “You’re the one who told him, aren’t you?”
“The information… presented itself to us recently, yes. So I made my father aware. He needed to know who he could trust. Or not trust, is the case.” Gabriel hesitates, and I hold my breath, desperate for him to keep going, though I know I’m not going to like what I hear if he does. “And then he decided that the family would be better off without certain members in it.”
“You mean your uncle.”
Gabriel nods. “He deserves what’s coming to him. He would have been better off putting a bullet in my father’s back. Be a man about it. But feeding intel to the Feds? That will earn anyone an automatic death sentence.”
Jesus. Is Gabriel admitting to his father putting a hit out on someone? Suddenly I wish he hadn’t told me, but it’s too late.
“Peter caught wind of the hit out on him. He and his family have gone into hiding.”
“Until when?” A moment later, I answer the question for myself. “Until you and Caleb and your dad are dead. Oh my God.” A cold dread washes over me. What kind of family have I gotten myself involved with?
“He won’t show his face until we’re taken care of.” He adds more softly, “Like the bunch of damn cowards that they are.”
“So then, maybe it’d be smarter if we stayed put here while all this is happening?” In a gated community on top of a mountain, with several acres surrounding us and cameras angled at every corner coming in? Sounds a lot safer than the Vegas Strip at the moment.
“Fuck that. We don’t hide,” he growls. “Besides, we have important business to take care of. I don’t want to miss this opportunity.” He rubs my shoulder. “But you’re not leaving my side unless it’s necessary, and when you do, you’ll have Moe with you at all times. He’s the best of Farley’s guys. He’s highly trained. No one will get to you with him there, I promise.”
“For how long?”
“Until this is sorted out. Days… weeks….” He looks like he wants to say more, but he stops himself.
I begin processing. “I can’t show up at Mary’s Way with a security guard.” They rarely let men into the building, and not the kind of guys I spied last night—juiced-up military-grade goons armed with multiple guns.
Gabriel chuckles, but there’s no humor in the sound. “You’re not going to work while this is going on.”
“Gabriel, I can’t just not go to work.”
“You don’t have a choice. You’re not going.” There’s an edge to his voice.
“And what am I supposed to tell my boss?” I sputter.
“That you’re working from home, that you’re sick with the plague; I don’t give a fuck what you say, but you’re not going there until I know you’ll be safe, and that’s nonnegotiable.”
“We may have an arrangement but you don’t own me,” I snap, irritated. I begin to push away, intent on leaving him there on the lounge chair.
His arms tighten around me, holding me in place. “Did you forget that I bought you your job, Mercy? You were going to resign because they couldn’t afford you anymore. I paid a hundred grand so you could keep going down to that shithole every day. I think that’s bought you some goddamn time off.”
I should have known there’d be strings attached to the anonymous donation he made.
“Go fuck yourself.” I dig my elbow into the hard pad of muscle covering his ribs.
Gabriel’s answering grin is wicked with intent. “I’d rather fuck you.” His lips land on mine.
I respond by biting his bottom lip—not to hurt him, but to let him know I’m pissed.
When he pulls back, when I see the flare of heat in his stormy blue eyes, I know the soft side of Gabriel is gone, replaced by a version I’m coming to enjoy as much. Our argument is not over—we’ll pick that up again later—but for now I’m content to watch him stand and shed his clothes, my inner muscles clenching in anticipation at the sight of his beautiful, muscular body and his swollen length.
He straddles the lounge chair and, seizing my thighs, drags my limber body down to meet his.
I let out a content moan as I feel him entering me, stretching my body wide under the morning sky.
“You’re going to buy this?” Michelle’s emerald green eyes widen as she presses her forehead against the SUV’s passenger seat window to take in the impressive Mage Hotel and Casino towering above us. She and Caleb took the middle row, while Gabriel and I curled into the back, both of us stealing a few hours of sleep.
“Possibly.” Caleb smirks, amused by her awe, but it falls off quickly and is replaced by a wince. While Gabriel returned unscathed, I can’t say the same for his older brother, who looks like he got pummeled. The bruises across his knuckles hint that some unlucky bastard got as good as he gave. “Except the owner doesn’t know he’s selling it to us yet.”
I frown at Gabriel. What does that mean? Do I want to know?
He answers with a bored yawn and an eye rub, having stirred from slumber ten minutes ago.
“I came here the last time I was in Vegas. It’s really nice inside. They have a Cirque show here,” Michelle murmurs, absently toying with the diamond necklace adorning her neck—stock from her father’s Scottsdale jewelry store. “Will you change the name?”
“Yeah. Definitely. Vegas needs an Empire.”
Her eyes sparkle as she finally peels away from the view to smile at Caleb, reaching across the seat to give his thigh a friendly stroke. “Like the nightclub.”
He winks with his good eye. “Just like it.”
I don’t know what’s going on between these two, but it won’t end well. Michelle’s not the type to share, and I know enough about Caleb to know he’s not a one-pussy kind of man.
Selfishly though, I’m relieved Michelle agreed to make the trip to Vegas with us, even if it ends with her crying on my shoulder over what an asshole Gabriel’s brother is after she catches him with a woman or three.
The black SUV ahead of us, carrying a carload of Farley’s goons—I should stop thinking of them like that, they’re here to keep us safe—pulls up to the covered entrance. They pile out in unison, setting the elegantly dressed doormen into motion. These guys must see guests arriving with security details on the regular. This is Vegas, after all, and from what I can see of the staff uniforms and multiple water fountains and landscaping, this is a high-end hotel that people with money frequent.
Farley’s men don’t look like regular security guys, though. They look like they’re ready for war, clad in head-to-toe black, with bulletproof vests and multiple guns strapped to their bodies, and earpieces to exchange codes and commands.
Farley watches them disappear into the hotel. After a few long moments, he and Moe, the guy in the passenger side—the smallest of them all but with a crazed look in his eyes that makes me nervous and his otherwise attractive features seem less so—must receive the all clear, because they pull in and unlock the doors for us to pile out.
Michelle might have been gaping at the exterior, but I’m the one struggling to keep my jaw from hanging as our entourage strolls through the glass doors and into frigid temps, a shock in comparison to the dry heat of the desert in midday August. The grand foyer is a vacuous white marble-clad space that stretches several stories tall. Multiple elaborate wa
ter fountains grace the center, creating a divide.
“You’re going to buy this?” I hear myself echo Michelle’s earlier words. How can a person afford such a place?
“Maybe,” Gabriel murmurs, low enough for only me to hear. “We’ve got it on good authority that it’ll be up for sale soon at a good price.”
“A good price?” I blink at him. “Like the-GDP-of-a-small-country good price?”
Gabriel chuckles and slips his arm around my waist, pulling me into his side possessively, pressing a kiss against my temple.
I find myself leaning into his lips instinctively, closing my eyes as I revel in the feel of his mouth against my skin. They’ve become familiar lips; a skilled mouth that has proven far more gentle than I ever expected.
When I open my eyes, Caleb is watching us, a knowing grin curling the good side of his face.
Others are watching, too—couples strolling hand in hand; groups of friends loitering in the lobby, in Vegas with high hopes for creating wild once-in-a-lifetime memories. What must we look like to outsiders looking in? They certainly can’t see the twisted arrangement that got me here. I’ll bet we look like a regular, loving couple, and while people might guess that these two handsome men have wealth, they wouldn’t suspect that they’re basically mob royalty. They certainly wouldn’t guess that the four of us nearly died last night.
A reality that I’m still numb to as I saunter along.
An attractive blond woman in a stylish white suit exchanges words with the doorman who received us and then marches this way, her spiky heels clicking with steady ease against the marble. “Welcome to the Mage, Mr. Green. I’ll be happy to show you to your suite,” she says in a crisp voice, offering Caleb a polite albeit stiff smile.
It catches me off guard. I’m not used to seeing a female not fawn over the man. His face isn’t that mangled.
And Mr. Green? I flash a questioning look Gabriel’s way.
He leans in to kiss a spot on my neck beneath my ear that sends shivers radiating through my body. “We never check in using our real names, especially not around here.”
“He couldn’t be more creative?”
“He likes that one. Green, like money.”
I shouldn’t be surprised. “And who are you?”
“Someone idiotic, no doubt. It’s Caleb’s thing, and he likes to have fun with it.” He sounds unbothered.
As if on cue, the woman turns to us, her attention on Gabriel. A small gold pin on her lapel reads Sienna. A complementary black one below marks her as a manager. “Mr. Pink Panther?”
I snort, earning a pinch against my side.
Gabriel smirks. “Sure.”
Her face doesn’t so much as crack, the epitome of professionalism, though she must know that’s a fake name. Even a halfwit would figure that out. “Welcome to the Mage. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Gabriel dips his head. “So do we.”
She affords him a lingering look and then shifts her focus to lead us toward the elevator, fumbling for the key card that dangles from a lanyard around her neck. She hasn’t spared so much as a glance for me, I note. It’s as if I don’t even exist.
“What’s wrong?” Gabriel asks.
I realize I’m scowling. “How does she know I’m not Mrs. Pink Panther?”
His eyebrows pop. “You want to be Mrs. Pink Panther?”
“No! But I would like to at least be acknowledged—”
“Because we’ve come to the right place for you to become Mrs. Pink Panther.”
“No, I do not want that,” I say more firmly than I intend.
“Why not?” he asks, a hint of genuine curiosity in his voice.
It’s my turn to raise my eyebrows at him. “Are you kidding me? Let me count the reasons.” He coerced me into this relationship, his mob boss father is in prison, his uncle is trying to kill him, and he’s about to buy this hotel with drug money. If I wasn’t here, he’d probably screw Sienna before dinner. He’s so far from marriage material, it’s almost laughable.
“Fair enough,” he murmurs as we pile into an elevator that’s marked directly for the top floor penthouse. It’s a smooth, quick ascent, and silent until we reach the top.
“This elevator is yours for the duration of your stay. There is a service elevator behind the games room, used only by our cleaning staff. We have two levels of luxury suites, but as you will see, the penthouse comprises the full top floor of this tower. Well, technically, two floors.”
The doors open, and I hear Michelle’s breath hitch as we get our first look at our digs for the weekend. Her family may be wealthy, but even they wouldn’t rent out a place like this.
My own eyes search the opulent textures and complementary colors—soothing tans and grays with punches of rich plum and cherry—in quiet awe. To our left is a massive living area with multiple sectional couches and flat screen TVs. Beyond it, a wall of floor-to-ceiling glass that reveals an expansive patio and our own private pool. There is a full bar to our right, with barstool seating for ten. A winding staircase ahead leads up to, I assume, the bedrooms.
This is, as Michelle would call it, “next level.” And it’s probably costing equivalent to half a year of my apartment’s rent per night.
“Good enough for you, Mrs. Pink Panther?” Gabriel mocks, his hand smoothing over my ass, capping it off with a squeeze.
I let him see me roll my eyes before stepping out of the elevator.
“Stay here until we clear it,” Farley demands in a rumbling voice. The five men with him fan out to search the space with quick precision, guns in hand.
“I can assure you, the safety and discretion of all our guests are of utmost importance at the Mage,” Sienna says, her sharp blue eyes wide as she watches them move, her rigid façade wavering with a touch of uncertainty. Does she wonder who Mr. Green and Mr. Pink Panther really are? Or does she already know? If they buy this place, will they keep the staff? Will the staff want to stay?
“We’re happy to hear that,” Caleb says with an easy smile, though he doesn’t make a move, abiding by Farley’s instruction. “Has the bar been stocked like I asked?”
She offers a curt nod. “Everything is as you wished, and if it’s not, please dial your personal concierge. Her name is Daniela, and she’ll be more than happy to assist you.”
“Thank you…” His blue gaze shifts to her name tag, and farther, to a hint of cleavage. “Sienna.”
I steal a glance at Michelle to see if she’s noticed the predatory look on his face, if she recognizes it for what it is. I’ve seen it before, when the girls from Empire are strolling topless around the house.
“All clear,” Farley announces from the top of the stairs, sliding his gun back into his holster.
Sienna holds a french-manicured hand out. “As you will see, your private pool is—”
“We’re good.” Caleb cuts her off.
She purses her lips in a tight smile. “Might I show you to your bedrooms then?”
Caleb grins. “Don’t worry, I always find the bedrooms just fine.”
Sienna clears her throat. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
His grin grows sly as he eyes her.
This time, Michelle doesn’t miss the exchange. Her face hardens with awareness.
Thankfully, Gabriel distracts. “Can you make us spa reservations? For two guests—” Gabriel scans his Rolex. “—an hour from now? For the entire afternoon. Full service.”
“Certainly.” With another nod, she ducks into the elevator. Just as the doors are closing, I catch the unimpressed glare she shoots Caleb.
I decide I like that woman. Hopefully she’ll tell him to fuck off when he dials up the lewd suggestions.
Gabriel moves for the bar. “Ladies, make yourself at home.”
I trail him. “I never took you for a spa man.”
“I’m not. You’re going with Michelle. We have a meeting.” He collects the tumbler of vodka Caleb just poured and holds it out to me.
I shake my head—it’s noon. Michelle, however, accepts a glass with a smile. I can’t begrudge her that, given what she’s been through since stepping out of the SUV last night. “A meeting about buying this place?”
“Yeah.” Gabriel’s gaze flashes to Caleb.
He’s lying, of course. I’m beginning to recognize Gabriel’s tells, and one of his most obvious ones is a secretive look between him and his brother. Whatever this important meeting is, it has nothing to do with buying the Mage. But for once I’m not mad that he’s being dishonest with me. I think I’d rather sink into a mud bath and play dumb to whatever these two have cooking than know.
Is that how mob wives are born?
The security team disperses—one outside, three heading for the elevator, Moe moving down a hallway where I suspect he’ll find the staff elevator. Only Farley remains, stationing himself in a corner near the bar, as if trying to be unobtrusive. As if his mammoth muscular frame could blend into the shimmering wallpaper.
When will they sleep? Where will they sleep?
Do they even sleep?
“I could see myself getting used to this place,” Caleb announces, his eye—the one that isn’t swollen shut—now on the rooftop patio and pool.
“Good, because you’ll be the one squatting here for the next six months while we get up and running.” Gabriel’s phone chirps. He slips it out of his pocket to check the screen, and I note that it’s not the one he uses to call me and take business calls from Empire.
This one must be an untraceable phone for his illicit activities.
Silence hangs as he taps out a response.
“All set?” Caleb asks.
“Yup.” Gabriel drops it back in his pocket.
“And we haven’t decided on who’s living here, yet.”
Gabriel smirks. “If you say so.”
Caleb throws his middle finger up at his brother before slipping the same hand into Michelle’s and leading her out to the patio, as if he wasn’t just ogling another woman in front of her.
And she follows, giggling as if she didn’t witness the exchange.
“They’re getting along well,” Gabriel notes.