Dirty Empire

by Nina West

  “They’re known criminals and rivals of the Easton family.” She cocks her head. “Did you see them when you went back to the suite?”

  Something tells me she already knows I did. I shrug nonchalantly. “There were a couple guys there, but I didn’t talk to them.”

  “Did you overhear any of their conversation?”

  “No.”

  “Did Gabriel tell you what they were—”

  “No,” I snap, louder than I intended. “I went to my room to take a nap.”

  Her eyebrow arches with incredulity. “I tell you that your boyfriend is a key player in the heroin and cocaine trade and you go upstairs to take a nap?”

  “Yeah, I really wasn’t feeling well after our little conversation. This one isn’t making me feel too well either—”

  “Why are you protecting him, Mercy? He nearly got you killed only twenty-four hours ago. Come on! You must know that was because of him?”

  I press my lips together and stay mute.

  Her features smooth over. “Look, I can see that you care about him. I get it. I’ve fallen for some unsavory men too. Take my advice though: it always ends, and the endings are never pretty. With a guy like Gabriel? Especially so.” She pauses. “But if you really care for him, you’ll work with me here. Before it’s too late for him.”

  “What do you mean?” Is she saying the FBI is willing to protect Gabriel?

  She presses her lips together as if deciding whether she should reveal anything. “The cartel has been making big moves lately. We have a string of murders that point to a growing turf war. Now two of the most powerful crime families on this side of the country are meeting together. I need to know why, and I need to know before more innocent people get hurt. People like Felix and Finn Walsh, and that pilot and flight attendant. They had young children, Mercy. Four, between the two of them.” She watches me intently. “I think Gabriel is getting himself involved in something very dangerous. Something that could get him killed.”

  “I don’t know anything about that,” I answer truthfully as my heart begins to pound. Murders? A turf war? The fucking cartel? Every TV and movie I’ve ever watched that involves the cartel depicts ruthless savages who decimate entire families. Gabriel never mentioned anything to me about any of this. Is this what Caleb was referring to when he said his brother was getting in way over his head?

  Earlier, he mentioned competition coming in to take over territories, and an attack.

  Is Gabriel’s uncle not the only danger? Is the cartel coming after him, too?

  My fear spikes. I don’t want Gabriel involved with any of this. The sooner they can buy this hotel and disentangle themselves from that world their father raised them in, the better.

  I swallow my hesitation, choosing my words carefully. “What about their father and their uncle?”

  Lewis’s eyes narrow. “What about them?”

  “I mean, what if you could build your case against them?” And leave Gabriel and Caleb out of it?

  “Depends. What do you know about them?”

  I hesitate. Am I really doing this? Yes, I am, because four children lost a parent in a horrific way last night. “I know his uncle is behind the plane exploding. You could get him for murder, right?”

  Something flashes in her eyes. A sense of impending victory, perhaps. “If I had evidence. Do you have that?”

  I shake my head.

  “Can you get me some?”

  “I don’t know.” I peer over my shoulder, expecting Moe to stick his head in at any moment. Is he wondering what’s taking me so long? Or is he giving me privacy on account of my earlier “illness”? “Look, you need to leave. Now. You’re putting me in danger.”

  Agent Lewis lowers her voice. “You’re not the only person feeding us information, Mercy. We will find out what they’re up to. We will bring their entire empire down. You have the chance to be on the right side of this. I have someone in place, ready to help protect you.”

  “Who? Where?” How is anyone going to get past Farley’s military-grade guards to protect me?

  Unless one of Farley’s guys is a fed.

  “It’s better you don’t know. But I can’t protect Gabriel without your help. I need you to find out what you can for me. Help me save Gabriel. And your father. You want to save them both, don’t you?” There’s a hint of desperation in her tone.

  Alarms go off inside my head.

  “Save Gabriel how? By putting him in prison for the rest of his life?”

  She opens her mouth but then hesitates. “You don’t think he deserves prison?”

  He probably does, I want to say, but I care too much about him to help make it happen. Besides, I don’t trust this woman. Every other angle she’s tried so far hasn’t worked. Now she’s playing on my feelings. She doesn’t give a damn about Gabriel or my father. Or me, given she’s cornered me again, and so boldly, with Moe right outside.

  “I already told you, I don’t know anything. The only business calls Gabriel ever takes around me are from his nightclub manager. Now, stop approaching me. I don’t want any part of whatever you’re trying to drag me into.” I move for the door, struggling to hide the fact that I’m shaking.

  “It’s interesting that Justin DeHavilland is representing your father’s appeal case.” She turns to face me, crossing her arms over her chest. The soft, crooning voice is gone. Now her forehead is furrowed, her caring façade cracking, her frustration with my stonewalling bleeding through. “How can you suddenly afford one of the top lawyers in the country?”

  Justin must have filed the appeal paperwork already, and this bitch ferreted out the information. “He’s doing it pro bono,” I lie, hoping I haven’t just dug a hole for him to fall into. It’s one thing to lie to my father, but this is the FBI. They have ways of finding things out.

  “The same law firm that represents crime boss Vlad Easton is taking on pro bono cases? That’s hard for me to believe.”

  I steal my voice. “It doesn’t matter what you believe, does it?”

  Her lips twist. “You want to know what I think?”

  “Not especially.” I’m desperate to get away from this woman, and yet my feet are rooted in place.

  “You’re a beautiful woman, Mercy. And Gabriel is a good-looking man with a lot of money and power.” She takes a step forward, and then another. “I think you attracted Gabriel’s attention in Fulcort, learned who he was, and saw an opportunity to get something out of it.”

  I struggle to school my expression as my heart hammers in my chest. Not exactly how it happened, but you’re not too far off, Agent Lewis.

  Her eyes flit over my features as if searching for a tell to suggest she hit the mark. “Or maybe it was your father who saw an opportunity and put you up to it.”

  “My father would never do something like that,” I throw back before I can bite my tongue.

  Her perfectly drawn eyebrow twitches. “So you saw the opportunity then. And you’ve secured protection and a fancy new lawyer for your father in exchange for… what exactly?” Her lips part with a broad smile. There isn’t so much as a hint of lipstick smeared across her perfect white teeth. Bitch. “You must be one hell of a lay to keep a man like Gabriel Easton interested.”

  My cheeks flush. “You’re wrong.”

  But she’s on a roll now. “When did you two begin dating? Was it before or after Diego Montoya almost killed your father?” She steps closer, into my personal space. “Did you know Gabriel was going to have Diego killed, or was that just a bonus to your arrangement?”

  “He killed himself,” I manage around a hard swallow.

  She goes on as if I haven’t spoken, her eyes narrowing. “Or maybe Gabriel had Diego taken out of because you asked him to. Do you think your hands are clean because you didn’t tie the belt around his neck?” She shakes her head slowly. “That’s still conspiracy to commit murder, Mercy. Do you have any idea what kind of sentence that carries?”

  My head starts spinning as Agent Le
wis gets closer and closer to the truth, and my guilt threatens to swallow me up. “I never asked Gabriel to do anything to Diego. You’re just speculating,” I say, my voice barely a whisper. But I did ask him to protect my father. Deep down, I knew what that might mean. And after the fact, once I deduced what Gabriel must have orchestrated—a staged suicide—I didn’t care. I was happy the threat to my father was gone. I rationalized his death.

  In some ways, I’m as much a monster as anyone in the Easton family.

  “It’s such a waste, to see a young woman like you, with her whole life still ahead of her, throwing it all away. And for what? A well-used dick that’ll only get bored of you soon. Or is it the sparkly baubles?” She nods toward my hand, where countless diamonds wink back beneath the vanity lights. “Once Gabriel finds a new plaything and this deal is off the table, maybe you can use that to cover some of your legal fees. Not that it’ll get you off. I doubt Gabriel has any connections at Regent to protect you, anyway. You’ve heard about the women’s prison, right? You think Fulcort’s bad?” She smiles. “Wait until you end up in there for—”

  The outer door to the restroom creaks open.

  “—seriously, love the ring,” Agent Lewis switches to a loud, playful tone midsentence, reaching for a paper towel and pretending to dry her hands just as Moe rounds the corner. Under her breath, she whispers the softest, “Help yourself before it’s too late,” and then she spins and sashays toward the door.

  Moe stands in the center of it, blocking passage with his lean but muscular body, his face stony as he considers her.

  “Excuse me.” Agent Lewis’s lips press into a tight smile.

  He stares her down for one… two… three beats—long enough that the air in the fancy restroom grows dense and I find myself holding my breath in trepidation—before he shifts to the side.

  She exits briskly, as if nothing out of the ordinary just happened. She seems fearless, but I wonder if her heart is hammering in her chest as hard as mine is right now.

  “Who was she?” Moe asks.

  “Nobody. Some woman who liked my ring.” I peer down at my hand, at the “sparkly bauble” Agent Lewis claims Gabriel used to buy me. Joke’s on her though; I can’t be bought with diamonds. Now, dangle a fancy lawyer and a scary prison fighter named Chops in front of me, and that’s a whole other story.

  Agent Lewis was guessing. That’s all that was. She was throwing shit out to see what might stick. The problem is, her aim is too close for my liking. How long before she has proof to back her hypotheses up? Before she has something to hold against me, to force me into doing her bidding?

  I feel Moe watching me. “Do you always barge into the women’s restroom like this?” I ask, setting my palms on the counter to brace myself while my legs shake.

  “You were taking a long time,” he says, deadpan.

  “So what?” I snap, my panic flaring.

  “Why are you so scared?” he asks, undeterred by my sharp tone.

  “Because you make me uncomfortable.” I attempt irritation at his questioning—it’s the most I’ve ever heard him say—but all I hear is the shake in my voice. I check my reflection and find a pale, wide-eyed version of myself staring back. He’s wrong, I’m not scared. I’m terrified. Agent Lewis has clearly decided I’m the golden snitch in the Easton case, and she’s intent on catching me.

  I feel as trapped and helpless as the day my father was sentenced. The urge to scream overwhelms me.

  But that was reckless of her, approaching me the way she has today, first at the spa and now here, with Moe hovering. What the hell was she thinking? She says she can protect me? She will literally be the death of me if this doesn’t play out the right way. Namely, if Gabriel and Caleb get the impression that I’m working with her to bury them.

  And the way Moe is sizing me up, he already has his suspicions. It’s only a matter of time before he shares those with Gabriel.

  Unless he’s the FBI protection Agent Lewis is talking about.

  That fleeting thought passes through a second time, slowing, giving itself a chance to gain purchase. Could a guy like Moe have worked his way into the Easton’s organization? It would have taken months. Years, even. How long has he been with Farley? Why does Farley trust him? How do you even end up being security detail for a crime family?

  My mind begins spinning, searching for ways that this could make sense.

  Farley said Moe asked to be on my detail, specifically. Why would he do that?

  Someone has been feeding Agent Lewis details of my whereabouts all day today—exactly where I’d be and when—so she could slither in and put pressure on me.

  The fact that she approached me with Moe so close by? The way she marched past him, just now?

  I might be totally wrong. I might be completely off-base.

  But what if I’m not wrong?

  “You look ill,” Moe states in that cool, robotic voice.

  “Yeah, I guess I’m still fighting off whatever bug I caught,” I mumble, eying him steadily. He’s built, his movements are sleek, he says very little but he’s always, listening.

  His lips twist. “You sure that’s all it is? Or is there something you need to say?”

  My heart hammers inside my chest. Do I confront him about it? Do I tell him that I know?

  The door swings open, and Michelle strolls in, her gold dress shimmering with each step. She spares Moe a wary frown before turning her attention to me. Her eyes widen. “Oh my God, Merce! What’s going on? You’re pale as a corpse!” Her brow pinches with concern as her attention flips from me, to Moe, and back to me. She must sense the tension hanging in the air between us. “Come on.” She tucks her phone into her clutch, and reaches for me with her free hand, a sour expression filling her face. “Let’s go back to the suite.”

  “We can’t. They’re meeting with….” My excuse drifts.

  “With?” Michelle pushes.

  Someone dangerous.

  Someone Gabriel doesn’t trust.

  He said there are things in play that I have no clue about. Does Gabriel know about the FBI circling them? Does he suspect Moe? Would he send Moe with me if he did? What if he has no idea? What if Lewis is telling the truth, and they’re close to taking them all down? A flash of my future hits me then—of Saturdays in Fulcort, visiting my father and Gabriel.

  The thought feels like a punch to my heart.

  I can’t do this anymore.

  I need to tell Gabriel everything now.

  I need to come clean with him about Agent Lewis.

  And I need to warn him in case he’s heading into a trap.

  “…Don’t worry. When they buy this hotel, we can see as many shows as we want. Until then, you need to get over this bug.” Michelle rubs my forearm as she prattles. “Come on. We’re going back to the suite before you collapse.”

  “Gabriel and Caleb—” Moe begins, but Michelle cuts him off.

  “Gabriel would want her resting in bed if she’s this sick, wouldn’t he?” She glares at him, daring him to challenge her.

  He studies me with those penetrating eyes for what feels like an eternity. Finally, he checks his watch, sighs heavily, and nods.

  10

  Gabriel

  “I don’t know what that fucker’s been smoking, but he’s not getting anywhere near that kind of coin for this place. Especially not when people know he’s got creditors waiting around the corner with their hands out.” Caleb slams his fist against the button to close the elevator door. His giddy spirits at the beginning of our conversation with Bruce Cohen soured quickly when he steered the conversation toward our interest in buying the Mage and the little man laughed in his face. Then he threw out an astronomical number, assuming we’d balk at it.

  The truth is, I did balk. It would put a serious dent in our coffers. “He probably will get it, creditors or not. This is prime Vegas real estate. We’d have to be idiots to believe he doesn’t have a bunch of suits breathing down his neck on the daily to s
coop it up.”

  “Then why hasn’t he sold already, huh? Why keep this headache? All he did the whole time we were talking was bitch about it!”

  “Because look at the fucking guy! He’s five-foot fuck all and one hundred pounds soaking wet. Being a Vegas casino owner gives him cred. It’s the only way he gets pussy without having to buy it.”

  “That’s a lot of work for pussy,” Caleb mutters, fidgeting as the elevator climbs. “Then again, look who I’m talking to. The king of doing stupid shit all in the name of pussy.”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  Caleb smirks, enjoying the sly dig at me. “I’ll work on Cohen some more later.”

  “If he shows up.” Through gritted teeth, Caleb invited Bruce to our place later tonight, dangling high-end booze and women as bait.

  “He’ll show. Trust me. He knows he can’t keep this place, bleeding money the way he is.”

  “And who says we won’t bleed money, too? All our money! We don’t know what we’re doing. Empire is a sandbox in a kids’ playground next to this.”

  “Which is why we have Mike. He knows Vegas.”

  “He better know Vegas, or we’ll end up in the poorhouse and I’ll never let you hear the end of it.” I’m all for brass balls-level confidence, but maybe we’re biting off more than we can chew this time around. Something Mercy said earlier lingers in my mind. “You know, maybe we should think about a partnership, to hedge our investment.”

  “A partnership?” Caleb turns to frown at me. “With fucking who? Who do you actually trust that much, besides me? Because I don’t trust anyone besides you, bro.”

  “What about Merrick and Vince?”

  “Merrick and Vince Perri? You want to go into business with the fucking Perris?” My brother glares at me with so much disgust, it’s as if I suggested we venture into human trafficking.

  “Not the Perris. Just Merrick and Vince. They said they were looking at investing in a club or something.”

  “This is not a club, Gabe.”

  I roll my eyes. “Yeah, no shit.”

  “So let them go buy a snooker dive or a titty bar. Whatever gets their rocks off and makes them feel like legit businessmen. They’re not cutting their teeth at our expense.”