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We settle into a calm silence, snuggling close, and sipping our drinks. Sunset paints the sky bright shades of gold, pink and blue. We hover above Vegas like royals in the sky admiring our kingdom.
And that’s what it truly feels like, the King of Vegas and the woman at his side dominating the city. The Vittoria Resort and Casino is our castle, rivaling other sky-scraping buildings like Caesars Palace and the Palazzo—we’re the new titan on the Strip. The Vittoria’s concave, curved shape reflects the sunset in the black glass.
“Still hateFerris wheels?” I tease, nipping at his ear.
He gives my hip a squeeze. “I may be coming around on them.”
“Can I ask…are you afraid of flying? On your private jet, you seemed so calm.”
“I’ve flown in my private jet dozens of times. There’s nothing to be afraid of,” he says. “I’m not afraid of flying…or even afraid of heights. In the case of Ferris wheels, it’s a lot to do with the past and anxiety of having no control.”
“You don’t have much control in an airplane either.”
“True, but there’s a steady path in an airplane. You’re among the clouds and moving toward something. You’re often in a small cart rocking in the middle of the air on a Ferris wheel. You have nothing to do and nowhere to go but spin in place and hope the thing doesn’t tip over,” he explains, sliding a hand up and down my arm. “This observation wheel is sturdier and more tolerable. I have a drink in my hand and my woman in the other. I don’t mind it.”
“And what happened in the past?”
He hesitates for a couple of seconds. I begin to suspect he’ll change the subject because he hates sharing his past. But he surprises me and answers.
“When I was eight, my uncle took my brother and me to the fair.”
“Claro?”
He nods. “It didn’t go so well. We didn’t realize Claro, being the reckless SOB he is, was multitasking.”
“Meaning?”
“He was also carrying out a job.”
I sit up straighter, not noticing the cold condensation on my glass and how it makes my palm slippery. “He, what? As in, he was carrying out business for the family?”
“Not just any business—a hit.”
I swear under my breath.
“Needless to say, it didn’t go so well. The guy caught on and grabbed me as he fled. Claro chased him onto a Ferris wheel, and they fought.”
“They fought on a Ferris wheel?”
“As it spun around. Gunshots and climbing along the wheel. Me frozen in terror, looking on. The guy made me hop from our cart and almost dropped me.”
“Oh my god, Gio…no wonder…”
“I’ll never forget the way the cart rocked under our weight. It was…one of the most traumatizing moments of my childhood.”
“You never should’ve been put in a situation like that. Did Claro at least get the guy?”
He gave a tight nod. “He shot him right next to me. His blood splattered onto my face.”
“Wow. I can’t even imagine. What did your parents think? I’m sure they were livid. He took their sons and put them in such danger.”
“Not really. My mother had already passed. My father was happy Claro tied up a loose end. The cost doesn’t matter.”
“That’s…cold-blooded.”
“That’s our lifestyle.” He glances at me, a strange expression I can’t place on his face, but then he kisses me full on the mouth. It’s a slow and affectionate kiss as ifhe’sreassuringmeand not the other way around. “But the past is the past. I don’t let those things affect me.”
“Even if it did, it wouldn’t make you any less strong.”
