Page 52

Greed, I’d discovered over my years in the United States, was the biggest corruptor.

I had reason to trust the Fiori brothers because they had grown up with Dario, his third cousins once removed, and they were, honestly, not smart or motivated enough to pull off any kind of coup.

Which left Serena, a woman who had too much to lose if she made a wrong step. Being elevated to capo in the Italian Mafia, even in the twenty-first century, was rare enough for a woman that I assumed she would be happy with her level of wealth and power. She was a frequent guest in Dario’s office, and she had recently taken over territory north of the river, including this casino. If anything, she was probably the most concerned about the issues with the casino because it jeopardized her newly acquired position.

“Deal me in,” I ordered as Luigi brought me a pile of chips amounting to $20,000.

“Are you sure Dario would want his wife gambling away his hard-earned money?” Mario asked me, because he was an old-school misogynist and he never passed up an opportunity to belittle me.

I watched as the dealer played out the cards, collecting mine in my red-tipped fingers, a bejeweled ring at the base of almost each one of my fingers. Dario had bought me none but my wedding rings. The others, as I’d promised myself four years ago, I had paid for myself.

“Don’t be threatened, Mario caro,” I murmured soothingly. “It’s not a good look on you.”

The Fiori brothers snickered, but Serena had the good manners to hide her smile behind her martini.

“You should have texted that you’d be in tonight,” Serena told me as she put in her big blind and waited for me to do the same with my small blind. “I would have greeted you.”

“You know Dario enjoys his surprise drop-ins,” I said with a demure smile, keeping an eye on Mario and Joey. “Especially when he has reason to suspect someone is fucking with his business.”

Joey froze for hardly a second before tossing in his chips to the pot, but Mario merely raised his gaze to stare at me placidly as he took a sip from his tumbler of liquor.

Serena frowned at me. “Not here, surely.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t already aware of the problem,” I returned as the dealer added another card to the river, exposing yet another spade.

A queen, a ten, and a four.

I stared at my cards impassively.

Two queens.

Unless someone had a full house, I was in good stead.

I added more chips to the pot.

“There is no problem with the casino,” Serena insisted. “If there was, as you say, I would know about it.”

“This is why women should not be in charge,” Mario murmured.

Serena and I both cut our gazes to him, and he had the good sense to look away. Sensing my mood, Cerberus snarled softly and moved closer into my side.

“What seems to be the problem?” Michael asked.

“Someone skimming off the top, no doubt,” Joey muttered. “Hard to resist the urge with a cash cow like this.”

“Hard to resist the urge if you don’t know my husband, perhaps,” I allowed. “Of course, anyone who knows Dario Ferretti knows he doesn’t suffer fools. And only someone extremely foolish would dare to steal from him.”

“I don’t know,” Joey said, flushed and damp cheeked with either nerves or the heat of the closed room. “There’s been shit going down one after another lately. Not just here too.”

“Oh?” I asked innocently, though I knew what Joey was talking about.

Ever since the Russians had abducted me years ago, the Outfit had faced an increasing number of threats. Not just from the Bratva, but from the Albanians, who tried to steal product on its way between Sicily and the States, and the Irish mob who had decided to slink out of obscurity and start pointless skirmishes at the docks and railways with our foot soldiers to show they were still “tough guys.”

“And what has happened to those who have acted against Dario before?” I asked, humming as I scratched Cerberus’s head.

Silence descended on the table, awkward enough to affect everyone, even the brothers, who I didn’t think had anything to do with the subterfuge. They were thinking, I knew, about the Irish enforcer Conan O’Connor, who the police had found cut into pieces and arranged in an empty cargo container at the Port Authority, or of Afansay, whose heart had been delivered to the Pakhan in a jar.

Dario’s ruthlessness and rage were legendary in the right circles.