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The out-of-date Wild West themes in flashing lights on the old King Pine gaming hall get me thinking about opportunities for development. Not your area of business, I imagine my big brother John telling me.
My thoughts soon drift back to images of Giulietta Moretti and my head nods, bobbing with the slow, hypnotic roll of her hips, the waves of her thighs, the slow bounce of her tits.
I’ve been obsessed with her since the moment I saw her. I was by the pool in Spades Royalle, a casino resort on the Strip. Across the sparkling, noisy Imperial pool, she was in the cool shade of a green cabana, stretched out with a book. A golden sheen on her dark butterscotch skin, her hair almost jet-black, silky and perfect. She wore big shades and a white bikini I wanted to eat.
The rise of her breasts made my breath stop. She raised her knee, then peered slowly over the tops of her shades. My heart banged like I’d been hot-wired as she looked my way across the pool. My muscles zinged. My pulse thumped in my chest and pounded straight to my groin.
I started to walk around the pool to say hello, maybe get to know her. Then a line of goons closed around her. Overstuffed black suits standing in pairs, their knuckles folded, cut off my path. One huge, ugly motherfucker stuck his chest out.
I could have killed him just for getting in my way. It would have been very heroic of me. There were eight of them, though, and I was very exposed. My ugly and very pointless death would have been immediate.
I figured I would forget about her soon enough.
That was two years ago.
More times and more places than I’ll even admit to myself, I’ve followed her. I can’t help it. Any time I know where she is or where she’s going, I have to be there. I need to make sure that she’s safe.
She’s my dangerous obsession.
John and Paul, my older and younger brothers respectively, are at a ringside table in Spades Royalle’s VIP bar.
John’s customary greeting never disappoints. “Hey, little bollocks. Wake your face up.”
My thick blond hair and pale blue eyes mean I’m always treated like the youngest, even though I’m two years older than Paul. His brooding looks and the scar on his face mean that I’m cast as the baby. Families have roles that have to be filled. This is mine.
“Look at that scowl,” Paul says, raising a hand to call a waitress. “He’s been cooped up watching the grass grow at the Moretti compound. We shouldn’t grind the poor fucker’s gears about it.”
“All right, all right.” I raise my hands as I sit. “Enough already.”
I tell them about the meetings in the Moretti compound. Show them the pics of all the faces that showed up. I send the photos and videos to Paul’s phone.
Shifting tack, John says, “Would it kill you to wear a fucking suit for once in your life?”
I sometimes wish that John could see what an ass he’s making of himself, but in the end, to me, it’s water off a duck’s back.
“You know damn fucking well I got suits coming out of my asshole. I just know how to dress appropriately is all.” The waitress brings my beer at last. “I’m here to relax and kick back. Get a drink with my two favorite asshole brothers. Even though all they want to do is bust my balls.”
“Well,” John says, “that’s because you need it.”
“No,” I smile, shaking my head, relaxing now. “It’s because while I may be the baby of the family, you two really are a pair of children.”
After a couple of beers, I leave them and head for the casino floor. I want to play the wheel.
Chapter Two
Giulietta
This evening I’m dancing, moving to the beat even longer than usual. I keep going almost until I’m exhausted. Tonight, today, I really need something to happen. And I feel like something will.
I feel like I’m dancing for an audience. Not that I would ever dance that well, but the feeling is magical with bursts of thrills as I move. I imagine eyes, a pair of eyes that glide and lap all over my body. I’m carried on the beat of the music. It rolls and turns like a wave, spinning patterns, driving my body. Setting my feelings free, leaving my thoughts behind.
I feel empty when I stop. Not that I have anything to complain about. My life is good. Better than good. My family is rich and powerful. I want for nothing. But I’m stifled. I’m not challenged. I’m bored and unfulfilled.
I decide I’ll go downtown to play some roulette. On my way out, I see Angelo left his laptop open. We have a lot of rules in the family. One is if you don’t want something seen, don’t leave it out in the light. If someone finds your secrets, it’s on you for not taking more care of them.
