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“What do you know about art?” I ask Gil.
“Fuck all,” he replies. “Why?”
“I need a list of everyone connected with us that might have links to the art industry. Can you do that?”
“Sure. You looking to buy your house guest a gift?”
“You could say that.” Grinning, I make a mental note to ask the same question to Benito. Now that Emberly is ready to gain her inheritance, it’s time to put the next phase of our plan into action.
* * *
Hours later, I put aside my plans to drop by the pool house because a representative of the Galliano brothers called the house, asking permission to cross our territory for a meeting.
The casino would have been the perfect place to stage such a meeting, but it’s currently occupied by Capello loyalists who would sooner side with the Gallianos than face the family they betrayed.
I give Galliano’s man permission to enter the Phoenix on the condition that he come alone. Any backup will be hunted down and killed on sight.
Gil and I sit in the club’s VIP section, watching the dance floor. Cesare is in the back office, surveilling the security cameras, and Benito is in an office building opposite the club with a rifle trained on the entrance.
We’ve stationed men around the building and across the block, with our pet cops in their patrol car in the alleyway.
A tenth of the men on the dance floor are connected to me in some way and they’re ready for a shootout. When it comes to Galliano, nobody wants to take chances.
Despite the precautions and the potential for shit to go awry, I sit back in the armchair, sipping a glass of whiskey and looking the picture of not giving a damn.
A waitress approaches and presses her fake tits on my shoulder. “Can I get you anything, sir?” she asks.
“No.” I wave her away.
Gil straightens. “You can get on my lap, sweetheart.”
I’m too focused on the entrance to pay attention to the waitress’s reaction, but she does not sit on Gil’s lap. When a group of girls enters instead of Galliano’s envoy, I turn my gaze to the dance floor.
My fingers twitch with the urge to pull out my phone and watch Emberly on the surveillance app, but I resist. Tonight’s going to require balls of steel. Any acts of violence against Galliano’s man could start a war we’re not prepared to win.
Gil leans into me and mutters, “If I was in your position, I’d be balls deep in pussy.”
“You could be if you weren’t so crass.”
He snorts. “Nah. If you told her to sit on your lap like I did, she’d be all over you like gonorrhea.”
I turn to him and grin. “Quality, not quantity.”
“You’ve got an admirer.” Gil raises a glass toward the dancefloor.
“Not interested.”
“You haven’t even looked. She’s hot.”
I shoot him a warning glare and he raises a palm in mock surrender. “Just looking out for your best interests, boss.”
If he knew anything about Emberly, he wouldn’t bother me with other women. She’s special, and I’m not just talking about the assets she inherited. Emberly is one of the few women I’ve encountered who keeps me second-guessing.
Out of morbid curiosity to see what Gil deems attractive, I glance at the dance floor and find a short blonde with a generous hourglass figure with her head turned toward us like an owl. She and her procession of female companions all perform the same dance steps, looking like they’ve practiced for the occasion in advance.
The woman raises a hand, and I glance away.
“You could at least say hello,” Gil mutters.
