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Maybe.I'm still torn. I can't and won't risk losing her, no matter how much closer I feel to her gorgeous mobster father.
"Did you get that, Loren?"
I blink, realizing I missed one of the other security team members relaying a message to me. "Sorry. Come again?"
They repeat it, and I nod and focus back on work again, scrolling through numbers and flagging potential leads as I create a pattern to interpret, so I can determine where the hacker might be. Others try to scam the Golden Casino on occasion, but they usually only walk away with meager winnings around the amount that the average person walking through the doors does, so they don't worry me.
What worries me is that I've caught onto the tail of a very slippery, skilled hacker who seems to be two steps ahead. Every time I realize that I'm seeing the signs of their telltale careful scamming game, they're gone. They're almost good enough to be part of the Wild Seven—almost, mind you.
I'm seeing little signs of them again today. Frustrated and my eyes blurred from staring at numbers for so long, I stand and stretch, glancing through all the security feeds. Aside from casino hotel rooms, bathrooms, and high-security places like Domenic's "interrogation" rooms that most normal casinos definitelydon'thave, almost every inch of the Golden Flame is watched at all times.
So why are they so hard to find? Are they messing with cams somehow?
Deciding to take five, I leave the security room to stretch my legs and wander out into the main casino floor, looking over the many people laughing and chatting in there, drinking or pulling slots. There's a ruckus near the pool tables, like usual, and roulette seems popular today. If the slippery hacker is here and I wander around in view of the cameras and go through it later, would it give me a hint as to what they're doing, if they're affecting the feed?
Only one way to tell. I start wandering through the casino, careful to keep track of what cameras I'm in front of while glancing up now and then to try to get a glimpse of Domenic. I know he's somewhere on the upper floor, chatting with important, lucrative customers. Probably celebrities.
He's a busy man, and I shouldn't expect our eyes to meet across the bust room just because we've hooked up a couple of times. I mean, I've made itveryclear to him that they were just little celebratory, blow-off-steam hookups and nothing else. And after declaring that I was moving, he hasn't said much to me over the last two days. Just looked at me with his heated gaze and made me think all kinds of deliciously inappropriate things about him.
I focus again. After all, I need to catch this hacker as soon as possible. Then I can focus on the Wild Seven and then on to determining how to broach the subject of Domenic's adorable little daughter. I'm still freaked out about possibly telling him about her. Still torn on whether I could ever actually do it.
Someone accidentally bumps into me.
"Sorry," I say idly, going to step around them.
"Loren Rally?"
I hesitate and then examine the person closer. It's a sleek middle-aged woman dressed in a skirt suit with her ginger hair up in a twist. She looks me over, as well, with an analytical eye.
"Sorry, do I know you?" I ask.
"I'm with the Commercial Adjustment Bureau. In debt collection," she adds meaningfully.
Debt collection. Shit. This has to do with my father. He committed tax fraud, borrowed from countless loan sharks and bookies, and apparently, he managed to piss off this woman somehow before kicking the can because she's giving me a disapproving look.
"Uh…nice to meet you," I say around a thick throat. "How did you…recognize me?"
"We've been trying to contact your family for a long time, but our letters have gone unanswered. Your father owes a great deal to my organization. Would you please come with me so I can get updated contact information for you? We can bill a different address if you've moved within the last three years."
I grimace. Part of me wants to bolt back to the security room and declare her a threat just to avoid this unpleasantness, but this is hardly the first time a debt collector of some kind has found my mother or me and demanded we start making hefty payments.
Great. Looks like money is going to get really tight around home again.
Caught up in calculating how much more we can afford to make in monthly payments with my new income and my mom's occasional gig, I follow the debt collector to the front of the casino, where it's less crowded and noisy. She leads me outside and down the sidewalk before I can wonder where the hell we're going.
By the time, I do, it's too late. A familiar car pulls up to the curb, marked with an Ace of Diamonds on the rearview mirror.
Fuck.I turn to run, but the woman blocks me, shoving me toward the door with a huff.
"Please get in, and this will all be easier for you."
If I get in that car, they'll kill me. I'm sure of it. The back window rolls down, and Ace's eyes meet my wide ones. The corner of his lips tugs up, and I try not to flinch. He's not pleasant when he smiles.
"I'll not hurt you. Promise. Get in, and we can merely talk."
"If I don't get in, you'll just force me," I grit.
He lifts his hands as if to show he's unarmed, which is laughable because I'm sure he's packing. Ace is always carrying, just like Chloe, who rolls down the passenger window, is always carrying a small collection of knives. She smiles widely at me.
