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“Magic powers.” She hits me in the arm. “I can still read your mind even if we don’t spend all our time together anymore.”
“Good to know.” I lean in. “Abby said something last night about her Nonno possibly being associated with us?”
“Really.” She grips my arm. “If that’s true, it would make things much easier for you.”
“No shit.” I shake my head. “She and her brother think the family’s laundromats were fronts for money laundering.”
She taps her lips. “None of that business is recorded anywhere, so I’ll ask Luna. She knows every woman in the five families and can get answers much faster than I can.”
“Are we talking about old-fashioned gossip?”
“Men share information, and it’s called gathering intel. Women do the same thing, and it’s called gossip. The Patriarchy always tries to keep women down by diminishing our talents and skills, hoping it will distract us long enough to forget that we have more brain cells and can multi-task efficiently.”
“You’re right.”
“I know.” She looks past my shoulder. “Here comes my darling husband.”
I turn and see the ruthless leader of the Volkov syndicate rush toward us with two large white bags. “Did you leave any?”
“Of course not.” He hands one bag to Gianna. “I want my girls to have the very best.”
“I love you, Alexey.”
“And I adore you.” He nods to me. “I better take her home so she can enjoy her treat peacefully.”
“Good idea.” I hug Gianna. “Let me know if you have any luck with the project.”
“Absolutely. I will call you tonight.”
“Thanks, cousin.” I watch the Vor guide his wife toward the doors and hope the baby that will cement the alliance makes her debut soon. Feeling more grounded, I refocus on my responsibilities and stride toward the bustling casino’s main floor. The sound of slot machines clinking assaults my ears, reminding me the reels spin into motion the second someone pulls the lever.
Which is what Abby and I did last night.
We pressed a button and ignited a chain of events that will be impossible to forget.
Bells ring, lights flash, and a cascade of coins fill the payout tray of a happy client as I pass, making me vow to find a way to make a jackpot possible for both of us.
Nico stands near the staircase leading to the high-stakes poker rooms, and I join him. “Is everything under control?”
“I don’t know,” he rocks back on his heels, “anything you want to share?”
“No, so just say whatever is on your mind.”
“Word is going around that a certain card shark was taken home at four in the morning in a resort limo.”
“If people have nothing better to do than gossip, I want you to send them to me.”
“Got it.”
“You shut that shit down immediately. My life isn’t up for speculation.”
“I’ll handle it.” He glances over, opens his mouth, and then shuts it. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No. I don’t need a therapist.”
“Guess that means it didn’t go so well.”
“Fuck you, Nico.” I turn, my anger sparking like a wildfire. “This isn’t up for discussion.”
