Page 141 of Barinov

Atrum Fortuna

58 days since Bella’s kidnapping

Hidden beneath The Obsidian, The Atrum Fortuna—Roman Russo’s elite casino—comes to life. And thanks to Ellie and Haley, it’s a beautiful sight.

Golden light spills across the room, catching on crystal, diamonds, and even the cold obsidian bar beneath my hand. Cards slap across red and black velvet. Chips clink in a steady rhythm. A roulette wheel spins somewhere behind me, the quiet whir threading through the low whispers of conversation and the delicate chime of champagne flutes.

Roman gave Mom and the girls full reign of the space and they completely transformed it. Between Ellie’s ever growing guest list, Haley’s floral arrangements, Mom’s table settings, and Callie creating a custom drink menu, every last detail has been obsessively curated.

I’m honestly surprised they pulled it off. Then again, these girls never do anything halfway. They have worked an insane amount of hours over the past few days getting this place to, and I quote, “Look less like the entrance to Hell and more like a sexier, Upper-East Side version of Casino Royale.”

Ellie’s words, not mine.

The harsh red glow of neon has been replaced with the warmth of gold and elegance. My sister was not a fan of the Hollow-Kings-red and made that very clear from the beginning. I lost count of how many red bulbs Lex and I swapped out for gold ones.

“Perimeter is secured,” Nate’s firm voice comes through the comms. He’s stationed at the front entrance with one of Roman’s men. “The last name on the guest list just checked in.”

“Now we wait,” Laing says. He’s leaning over a blackjack table across the room, his black hair sculpted into an artful mess.

Callie is standing behind him in a golden gown that shimmers like wet paint under the glittering chandelier. Her auburn hair spills over Laing’s shoulder in rich, mahogany waves as she leans down to whisper something in his ear. Manicured fingers grazing the dragon ink peeking out from his unbuttoned shirt.

Mom and Sabine are seated at the far end of the bar with glasses in hand. A beautiful, high-contrast elegance with my father seated between them. Mom is all cool luster and pearls, while Sabine glows in her signature crimson and burnished gold. Two polar opposites making Dad look like a million bucks.

Khoza and O’Malley are at one of the High Roller tables with Rez and some of the high-ranking members of the Barinov Bratva. Daniel included. They’re unmoving shadows, watching the room with a predatory stillness.

Across the floor, my dumbass brother and his even dumber of an asshole best friend, August, are surrounded by a jarring splash of neon. Two blondes in tight magenta dresses are draped over Cal’s arms like vivid, satin brushstrokes. Marisol has August eating out of the palm of her hand in a slick, black silk that drinks in the light.

We told Cal this wasn’t a plus-one event, but he’s clearly too blinded by the breasts, curves, and pink to give a crap about the mission. I guess if anything Marisol and the blondes will keep them out of the way.

I’m leaning back against the bar, taking a sip of my Manhattan when I catch a glimpse of him. Lex, looking unbelievably sexy in a tux tailored for a war he’s already won. Black on black with sharp lethal lines. The fabric a matte void against his broad shoulders.

“Jesus Christ,” I whisper, nearly choking on my drink at the damn visual weight of him.

Lex catches my stare, a smirk forming before he even reaches me.

“Take a picture, babe,” he says, his voice a low, cocky drawl. “It’ll last longer.”

I set my glass down with a heavy clink before the condensation makes it slip through my fingers. Reaching out, I catch the stiff, expensive wool of his lapels and haul him toward me.

“You,” I whisper, my teeth catching my bottom lip as I map the shadows and angles of his jaw. “Look amazing.”

Lex doesn’t give me time to admire the view. He leans in, mouth crashing into mine until there is nothing left but the heat of him and the smell of expensive bourbon.

He pulls back, breathless. “You ready for this?”

“I guess,” I admit. “I just hope he shows.”

“He will,” he says, reaching behind me to grab my drink.

Ellie and Haley glide in, flanking Briggs like twin highlights against his dark suit and black Stetson. Haley is a shimmering beauty in teal, her dress glittering with every step. Complete with a slit so dangerously high it turns the head of every man in this casino.

My man’s included.

“Fuck, Hales,” Lex coughs, his gaze fixed on her thigh. “Knox has gotta be losing his shit in that booth.”

“Oh I am,” Knox’s voice rings in over the comms.

A small huff of a laugh escapes my lips as I shake my head. My eyes shift to my sister in a basic white strapless. A dress that serves nothing more than a negative space to frame what’s around her neck.