Page 35 of Mafia and Gold Digger
“That’s easy to say if you’re coldblooded. My heart’s been broken. How else am I supposed to feel?” I wail.
“Your heart isn’t broken, sweetheart. Trust me, you’d know if it was. Focus your energy into getting angry.”
“And what good is that going to do?”
“It’ll make you feel better.” He drops his smoke and grinds it out with the heel of his handmade Italian shoe, before sauntering back to the casino.
As he walks away, he passes Ronnie’s orange Lamborghini, and I hear the harsh jagged sound of metal grating against metal like nails on a chalkboard. And I realize that he’s just keyed Ronnie’s brand-new car.
Something about it makes him appear almost human instead of someone who’s cold and untouchable.
I feel the tips of my mouth pull upward...
And, just for a moment, I let a smile replace the upset in my broken heart.
CHAPTEREIGHT
SAINT
I meet Christian in the back office at Casino Venice the following week.
“The IRS are all over the casino,” Christian grits out. “They’re looking for any irregularity to get us on. I need your help to make sure everything’s in order and any loose ends get tied up.”
I nod. “If the IRS finds anything at the casino, then they’ll have grounds for getting warrants to investigate other Imperiosi businesses. And that would be a fucking disaster.”
The casino is the only such establishment in downtown New York, and it’s a hugely important part of our business. Casinos aren’t permitted here under state regulations, but Christian’s a fucking genius and got a Native American tribe to put in a claim for a downtown area as part of their tribal lands. Now, he runs the casino here in partnership with them, and it’s a win-win situation all around. But if the IRS picks up on any irregularities, that could blow the whole operation out of the water.
We start making a plan of what we need to do.
* * *
I head into the main area of the casino which is busy as usual. My mind flits back to the night of Ronnie’s engagement and to what happened to Emerald.
I shake my head.Why am I thinking about this, and why do I even care?
I don’t have an answer to that question. And that just makes me more pissed off. But no one deserves to be humiliated like she was. That’s all there is to my concern. I don’tcareabout her. Men like me aren’t capable of that emotion.
I sigh heavily. I hate being in this city. And I desperately need some caffeine to distract me. Thank the Lord that they serve coffee at the casino. Heading over to the bar area, it’s hard not to notice Emerald. Because not only does she shine like a beacon with her beaming smile and her sparkly, gold dress—no doubt another steal from some poor unsuspecting boutique owner—but she’s also got some slimy creep flirting with her. As the man turns to the side, I recognize him as one of Christian’s captains, Domenico. Emerald is smiling at something he’s just said to her.
For some reason, an uncomfortable feeling washes over me, knocking me off balance for a moment. What the fuck is he doing talking to her? I drop into a chair in front of the bar.
Emerald’s eyes widen slightly when she sees me. I guess she probably wasn’t expecting to see me again. “I’ll be back in a sec,” she says to Domenico. “What can I get you to drink?” She flashes a professional smile at me.
And for some reason I don’t quite understand, I want to keep her away from Domenico for more than a few seconds. “I’ll have a grande caramel macchiato in a venti cup, half whole milk, one quarter almond milk, one quarter non-fat extra hot, quad shots, one and a half decaf and two and a half regular, caramel wall in the cup, with whip, no caramel drizzle on top, two packets of Splenda, one sugar in the raw, two dashes of vanilla syrup, and three short sprinkles of cinnamon.Please.” I shoot a satisfied smile at her. My order should keep her busy for a good ten minutes.
But as the corners of her mouth turn down slightly, I find myself suddenly regretting my order. And I don’t understand why. Until I realize it’s because…I’d rather see her smiling. When I saw her smile before, it made her look glowing and special, and it did something to me…
At that moment, Ronnie comes in, clearly in a bad mood as he glares down at his suit. “Can I get my usual coffee?” Ronnie calls out to Emerald, interrupting her as she’s making my order.
“You don’t look like a man in the first throes of love,” I comment as I watch him sniff at the fabric of his jacket.
“Ria keeps whining that I smell like fish,” he complains as he takes another sniff at his arm.
Emerald puts a cup of filter coffee down in front of him but ignores him otherwise, and he makes his way toward the back office, pressing his nose against his shoulder as if he’s still trying to detect where exactly the smell is coming from.
Emerald then goes back to making my coffee.
“Saint,” Domenico greets me.
