He whimpers and throws his hands up.
“I’ll take this.” My brother speaks, yanking the gun from his hip, and points it along with his own at him.
“Is this all of it?” I demand.
He says nothing.
“I’ll give you one more chance to answer me.”
“I’m not telling you shit.” He spins around to face me.
And to my surprise, I know the guy. He’s the son of my father’s right-hand man. “Anthony.” I smile. “What are the odds of running into you here?”
“Fuck you, Luca!” he screams in my face.
“I’ll fuck your mouth.” My brother wiggles his eyebrows. “It’s all the same to me, baby.”
Anthony’s jaw sharpens, and he turns to jump my brother, but he slams the butt of the gun into his head, knocking him out. Anthony falls to the floor, and my brother and I both listen for any other noises.
“I think they left.”
“They’ll be back,” I say.
Rossi thought he had a foolproof operation because no one has ever dared to attack on his territory. It made him vulnerable. Weak. He had less men than usual. We’ve never made such a bold move. My father has always been the one behind the operations, but tonight was my doing. I called the shots, and we needed to make ourselves very clear. My marriage to Haven is gonna solidify that. Her father is gonna make us untouchable. More than we already are.
“Get him up,” I order.
“What are we doing with him?” he asks.
“I saw a crematory at the end of the hall.” I nod to the door. “Let’s go drop him in there and turn it on. We’ll leave his ashes for them to find when they return.”
CHAPTER FOUR
LUCA
I NOTICE THE clock on my dash shows a little after three a.m. We pull up to the back of Kingdom—the most prestigious hotel and casino here in Las Vegas. It gives them all a run for their money.
After getting out of the car, we walk up the fifteen stairs to the black double doors with a suitcase rolling behind me. I push one open while my brother chooses to use the revolving door. Entering the hotel, my shoes clap on the white marble floor. A big gold K sits in the middle of a black circle. The inside looks just as exquisite as the outside. A gold chandelier hangs from the high, mirrored ceiling. Black and gold accents are hung on the walls, and it smells like every person’s dream. Money. Instant gratification. Most enter a hotel on the Strip to win big. To catch that high that only a casino can give them. Where days feel like hours and hope smells like cigarettes. But this is a private entrance. No one is allowed back here unless cleared. There are no slot machines. No blackjack tables.
“Luca.” A man by the name of Nigel greets me, giving me a nod when he spots me from behind the black marble desk. “How is your morning going, sir?” His brown eyes look over my bloodstained jeans. I had an extra shirt in the car but didn’t have a chance to change my pants. But he’s not surprised. He sees all kinds of shit here. His bosses don’t mind getting their hands dirty either.
“Rather good. Yours?” My brother snorts at my choice of words.
“Excellent, sir. Mine as well.” He walks over to a private elevator that has the same black circle with the gold K in the middle. He scans a key card for access. The door slides open, and the three of us enter the mirrored box. The floor is black marble with gold specs that look like confetti.
He scans his key card yet again, and the doors close.
This elevator only stops on a few select floors. One of them is the thirteenth. Most buildings choose to leave this floor unused due to superstitions, but the Kings don’t believe in bullshit such as old wives’ tale. They do their most exclusive work on that floor.
The door slides open, and Nigel gestures for us to exit. “After you, sir.”
We step off the elevator, walk through another set of double doors, and immediately enter the conference room. Four men sit at a custom black stone table that could easily fit twenty. It has a large skull carved out of the middle with Kingdom written in gold letters at each end. The thick black curtains are pulled closed, covering up the opposite wall of windows to hide us from the world even though it’s the middle of the night. You can never be too careful.
My brother plops down in one of the black leather chairs and leans back in it, chewing away on a toothpick. I toss the suitcase onto the surface and sit down.
“Thank you, Nigel,” Bones says from the head of the table, dismissing him.
“My pleasure, sir.” He folds his arms behind his back and nods before backing out of the room, closing the black double doors behind him.