Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56831 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Something moved in the shadows. My breath caught as Marcus stepped into the light spilling from the townhouse’s windows and said, “I really need to talk to you, Romy.”
13
Marcus
I wasn’t sure I had the right house, not until I caught a glimpse of Romy through a pair of French doors on the second floor. Going up and ringing the doorbell wasn’t an option, since I had no idea if his brother was home, and getting shot really wasn’t on my to-do list. Instead, I found a few pebbles in the landscaping and went old school by tossing them at the glass doors.
Fortunately, he heard them and came out onto the balcony to investigate. He wore nothing but a towel around his slender hips, and he was achingly beautiful. I was so captivated that for a moment, all I could do was stare.
My pulse was racing, and I drew a ragged breath as I stepped forward, into the light. I was so nervous that I could barely speak. Finally, I managed, “I really need to talk to you, Romy.”
He went completely still. Was he afraid of me? That would break my heart.
But once the initial shock wore off, he exclaimed, “You can’t be here, Marcus!”
“Please, just hear me out.”
“Listen to me! My brother is going to come home any minute. If he finds you here, you’re dead!”
“Just give me five minutes. That’s all I ask.”
“You need to go!”
“I’m begging you. Please, Romy. I have to apologize and try to explain.”
He seemed almost panicked as he shifted his gaze to the street and blurted, “Fine, but not here.”
“Okay. Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there.”
“I don’t know. I’m not very familiar with San Francisco.”
“How about my hotel?”
“No. I want to meet in public.” That stung, but I deserved it after breaking his trust. “It just has to be someplace where there’s no chance of running into my brother, his relatives, or any of the people he’s hired to find you.”
“I’ll meet you anywhere you want.”
He pushed his hair off his forehead and thought about it for a moment before saying,
“There’s a red and green Chinese pavilion on a lake in Golden Gate Park. I saw it on a post card once. Meet me there tomorrow at ten a.m.”
“I’ll be there.”
“Now please get out of here, Marcus. And don’t go that way, or you’re going to run into Adriano.” He pointed to the right.
“Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
I hurried away, but I didn’t go far. My rental car was parked two houses down. After I took a seat behind the wheel, curiosity compelled me to wait and see what would happen.
Romy had been telling the truth, and no wonder he’d seemed frantic. Not two minutes later, his brother came around the corner. He was on foot and holding hands with a man who made him look huge by comparison.
The sight of Adriano Dombruso made me bristle. I’d hated him from the moment we’d met. I doubted he remembered it, but I couldn’t forget. An associate had brought me to Dombruso’s underground gambling club. I’d only been out of prison for about six months, and I was far from polished—I knew that. I’d had long hair and a thick beard, and I’d probably been wearing jeans and leather, because that was what I lived in back then.
Dombruso had taken one look at me and denied me access to his club. Apparently I wasn’t good enough to hang out with the criminals and lowlifes who frequented his establishment. I had a very short fuse back then, so of course I got in his face and tried to start a fight. I’d never forget his smug grin when four of his men grabbed me and dragged me away from him—because of course, he was too good to fight me himself.
He went back inside as punches started flying. Since it was four against one, those men ended up beating the shit out of me. It wasn’t just humiliating. The contact I’d spent weeks trying to befriend wanted nothing to do with me after that. I had to go back to Art and tell him how I’d screwed up that important connection, and he was so disappointed in me. I fucking hated letting him down.
And needless to say, Dombruso made himself an enemy that day.
When I came back to Vegas years later using the alias Mario Greco, I was a different man. I’d learned how to play the game with bespoke suits, expensive haircuts, and watches that cost as much as a car—all the outward signs of success and power.
I was on a mission—to honor Art’s wishes by making a mark in Vegas. The way I chose to accomplish that goal was by building an illegal gambling empire, the likes of which Sin City had never seen before. It turned out one of the minor players standing in my way was Adriano Dombruso. That gave me an excuse to make his life hell.