Page 39 of Roman

“Go for it, baby.”

“Love your face.”

He glanced my way, grinning sheepishly. “Love yours more.”

He hung up.

I signed a few pages and glanced at the computer. Effie and Vi were walking out of the suite, two of my men following closely. I nodded, pleased. They were following instructions. Not leaving the building. They were protected and⁠—

I turned to Aldo.“Holy fuck. Your wife just played me.”

Aldo didn’t look up. “Wondered when you would catch on.”

“She had no plans on going to the outlet mall.”

“Probably not.”

“I said Effie couldn’t leave the suite. She conned me into doing exactly that.”

Aldo grinned. “Why do you think she wins our arguments every time?”

“Fucking con woman.”

“My fucking con woman. And watch your tone when you call my wife names.”

I had to laugh. “My apologies, my friend. I meant no disrespect.”

His lips twitched. “Of course not.”

“She is your ideal partner.”

The twitch became a full-out smile.

“That she is. All one hundred percent of her evil, conning ways.”

We both laughed.

That she was. Perfect for him on every level.

I ignored the whisper in my head that maybe it would be nice to find that sort of match.

Or the other one that laughed and said I already had.

I couldn’t concentrate. Knowing Effie wasn’t across the room or a few feet away down the hall seemed to have short-circuited my thinking. Even though she was in my building, with my men and Vi, I was still worried. I wasn’t beside her.

Aldo was on the phone, talking to the masseuse I wanted to steal, setting up a meeting. I was sure once he saw what I was offering here, he and his wife would jump ship. A private suite, incredible salary, and trips to other hotels I owned, they would have a good life. I wanted this hotel and casino to be the very best. I hired the elite and demanded loyalty. I protected them and made sure they were happy. It was a two-way street.

I clicked on my computer, bringing up the security feed. Nothing new, but this time, I focused on the lobby. It was busy, people coming and going. The space was perfect, the flowers fresh, the iced fruit water sparkling in the massive crystal urn. The coffee station close to it was immaculate. Our guests could help themselves around the clock. There was a selection of pastries, fresh all day and night, to snack on.

Without thinking, I clicked on the expansive boutique down the hall. It was run by a gay couple I’d hired away from a designer clothing store. Their taste and elegance were incredible, and the boutique carried high-end clothing and accessories. The mail-order portion alone brought in a huge chunk of change. They ran the store with the same grace and panache they exuded as people, and I treated them well.

I scanned the store, finding Effie and Vi. My men were at the back, not bothering anyone but tracking all the customers, their eyes fixed on the two women. I frowned as I watched Effie. Vi held up clothing, each piece lovely and suitable, but Effie shook her head, clearly saying no.

I picked up the phone, punching in the direct extension. Gerry answered. “Silken Lace, how may I help you?”

“It’s Roman.”

“Hey, boss man. What can I do for you?”