Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“You know me.” He lights another cigarette and pulls up his hood. “I’m a walking billboard for sobriety.”
He heads off. I watch him as he disappears around a corner into a crowd of tourists.
“All good?” Gianni stands a few feet away.
“I’m fine.” I stand up straight. “Gonna tell my husband?”
“Already did.”
“Asshole.”
“You think I’m gonna get fired over this shit?” Gianni snorts. “Fuck that.”
“Whatever. Come on, let’s go deal some cards.”
“You deal the cards. I’m just the muscle.” Gianni beams at me as I head into the casino. Berthold says nothing, only gives me a surly frown.
Chapter 26
Adler
Jayson arrives next. Only two years younger than me, he was my closest friend and biggest adversary when we were growing up, though our rivalry has cooled in the years since. He strides into the place fresh off the plane from London with a sunny tan and a wide, white smile.
“There’s my Don,” he says, pretending like he wants to kiss my ring.
“Fuck off,” I say, slapping him back, and he laughs before giving me a big, rough hug.
“I want to say I’ve missed you, but we promised we’d never lie to each other.”
“No, we didn’t. I’ve missed you.”
Another big laugh. “That’s the big brother I remember.”
Jayson’s my height, same eyes, same build, but with an angular face, high cheekbones, and a sharper nose. He prefers more of a surfer-meets-business-bro look with tousled hair that looks like he just woke up and hands callused from hard work. I’ve said a lot of things about my brothers, but I never once accused any of them of being lazy—especially not Jayson. He’s a woodworker, plays guitar, surfs in Portugal at least once a month, and still manages multiple casinos, hotels, and other various businesses he’s invested in over the years scattered across Europe. I don’t keep a close eye on him, not anymore. Despite everything, we trust each other.
“Where’s Erick?” I ask him, our final brother, the third oldest. “I thought you two were coming together.” He runs the Vegas resort, arguably our most profitable and important property.
“Had to make a little pit stop.” He rolls his eyes. “He’s got a little business going on.”
“Did he tell you what it is?”
“Of course not. I bet he’s playing some blackjack.”
“Wouldn’t put it past him.” Erick’s the most reserved of the four brothers, though I think he hides a dangerous, clever mind behind his silence.
“Well, where’s the girl?” Jayson leads me through the crowds toward the bar right outside our sports book. The bartender brings two drinks without having to be asked, which I appreciate. “I hear she’s working the floor.”
“Only the high rollers and only in the mornings.”
“I’m honestly shocked.” Jayson raises his whiskey, sloshing it around slightly before taking a sip. “You’ve always been the most conservative of us. I can’t imagine you ever letting your wife work.”
“It’s not my decision,” I mutter, not happy that he’s already going into this. “Did you talk to Con?”
“Might’ve.”
“Don’t listen to him. Whatever he said.”
“Con’s got a good eye for people, you know that.”
I hesitate, unable to help myself. “And what’s he think about Casey?”
Jayson leans up against the bar beside me, his voice pitched low. “He likes her. Thinks she’s got a good head. But he also says something’s weird between the two of you.”
I stare at my drink. Fucking Con. He’s too perceptive for his own damn good. “Everything’s fine.”
“What’s your angle here?” Jayson’s head tilts. “You don’t do anything without a reason. Why’d you get married out of nowhere?”
“I’m guessing you wouldn’t believe me if I said I married for love.”
“No. I wouldn’t.”
“Try to believe it anyway.” I glance to the side. A woman and her husband are sitting in front of video blackjack machines, tapping away at the screen. Donating their money to the casino. The whole place is filled with scenes like that: people hoping beyond hope to beat the odds while knowing they never will.
Sometimes I wonder if that’s me.
“There you two are.” A low voice rumbles over the chatter and the music. I look over as Erick approaches, his blue eyes sparkling. He’s got a thick dirty-blond beard, hair pulled back into a small pony tail, slacks and a button-down. I don’t know where the whole Viking look comes from, since he’s supposed to be Italian, but that’s Erick. Our father gave him a Viking name and my brother has embraced the persona ever since.
We hug, Erick shoves Jayson, and the bartender returns with another drink. “Did you grill him on the girl yet?” Erick asks.
“He’s being shady,” Jayson says.
“I am not.” I sip my drink, trying not to lose my patience already. “You haven’t met her yet. You’ll like her.”
“Con does,” Erick agrees.
“Have you three been talking about me behind my back?”
“Of course,” Jayson says, looking at me like I’m an idiot. “You’re the oldest brother and the Don. We’re constantly talking shit.”