AlexIt’s the longest fucking plane trip in the history of the universe. Or maybe just the most miserable. Jenna won’t talk. She’s not giving me the silent treatment—no, she’s quite polite. But there’s no friendly chatter. No making conversation.And she definitely doesn’t want to be touched. She skitters away from me every time I lay a hand on her waist or touch her hand.My stomach churns on the flight home, trying to figure out what I missed. Is Jenna really afraid of her father? I don’t think so. But what, then?We finally land in O’Hare and Don G, himself, picks us up. He acts like he didn’t just bust my balls and slaps me on the back, thanking me for bringing his baby home.I’m relieved to see Jenna’s affectionate with him, and he with her, so nothing seems amiss there.“Well, I’ll just get a cab,” I tell Don G.“You sure? I got no problem taking you home.”“Yeah, I’m sure.” I cut my glance to Jenna. She’s sick of me trailing her by now, and could probably use some space.Oddly,
EpilogueAlex“Angel?” I loosen my tie as I walk in the door of the apartment Jenna and I share.“In here, Daddy,” she calls from the bedroom.I’m not out of the family business. It’s never that easy. Once you’re in La Famiglia, the only way out is a box. That’s what they say, anyway. But Don G and I have an agreement. I got moved to peripheral operations. Nothing too dangerous. Nothing too risky. Following Nico Tacone’s example of taking things legal.In the meantime, I set up an office for Jenna and hired a marketing manager to help her grow her business. She already has three hundred clients from her Facebook ads, and we’re working on strategies to get more profit out of the business. Basically, her business model needs to be scaled for mass delivery. She’s going to put together set clothing wardrobes for each of the twelve waist placements in three different budgets for each season, and then we’ll mass market it that way.It’s a learning and growth process but always fun.I push o
StefanoThe beauty in my arms—well, not quite in my arms, more at my mercy—meets my gaze with courage.I see neither fear nor defiance in the bright blue eyes, merely bald curiosity, almost a hint of fascination.Likewise, bella.I picked her table for a reason, and it wasn’t because anyone suspected her of cheating. Quite the opposite. The floor manager says she always attracts a crowd of gentlemen, earns big tips. She’s fast and showy, exuding just the right balance of cool professional and warm invitation in any game she deals. I tested her because we need a dealer for private games upstairs.Now, though, I want to play all kinds of private games with her and none of them involve a deck of cards or a roulette wheel.“I don’t like being humiliated,” she says. For a moment, I think she’s speaking to my thoughts, and then I realize it’s her justification for trying to slap me. She turns her wrist in my hand, attempting to get free.I don’t allow it, pulling her small hand up to my mou
CoreyI dial my cousin Sondra on my way out but she doesn’t answer. She’s with Nico in Chicago after a blowout fight that we all thought had ended things forever. But Tacone has a hard time taking no for an answer. I have to say—Nico Tacone may be a scary motherfucker, but he is totally in deep with Sondra.When she left him four days ago, he flipped out. He cornered me, tried to make me tell him where she’d gone, put a guy outside my house, presumably to watch for her. Sondra thought he’d been cheating on her. But I talked to everyone close to him after Sondra left, and they all had the same story. He had a family-arranged marriage contract that he was trying to get out of and Sondra is the only woman Nico’s ever been serious about.So when I got her text yesterday with a picture of a diamond ring on her left hand, I knew they’d worked it out.I really don’t know what to think about Sondra marrying a known mobster. She’s always had terrible taste in men—not that my last choice was an
CoreyI’m uneasy about working the private game tonight. I don’t know if it’s my spidey sense alerting me to potential trouble or if I’m being paranoid. It’s the same uneasy feeling I had about Sondra dating Nico.There’s danger at the Bellissimo and until this point, I always managed to stay out of it.Still, I’m going to be well-paid. And although this might not help me when push comes to shove, my cousin has the owner’s ear. Of course, he didn’t think twice about making Dean disappear.I wear a clingy red dress—the one Sondra borrowed last week when she got herself into trouble flirting with another man to make Nico jealous.It molds to my body, showing off my cleavage with a plunging neckline and my long legs with a provocative slit up the side.I’m not dressing for Stefano. I’m not.Okay, yeah, he might have been on my mind as I showered and dressed. I might have paid a little more attention to my makeup and hair tonight than usual.But that’s not because I hope anything will hap
CoreyMr. Donahue. That’s how the guy is introduced, and I get an off vibe from him right away. For one thing, he’s late. I’ve been dealing poker for two hours with three other guys who showed up tonight and they’re not pleased with letting someone new into the game.Two of them cash out. The third—Mr. Smith—stays but that’s because he’s down three hundred grand. He’s probably hoping to win something off Donahue.“Where’s Nico Tacone?” Donahue demands once he’s sitting and his chips are in front of him.“Mr. Tacone isn’t here tonight,” I say smoothly, dealing the cards.Donahue looks pissed. “Why not? He invited me personally. I was told I’d be playing poker with him.”My eyes narrow slightly. I doubt that’s true. I flick a glance to Leo, at the door. He’s not normal casino security or management. He’s an import from Chicago. Part of the Family, if you know what I mean. I’ve worked at the Bellissimo long enough to know the insiders.Leo’s upper lip curls like he wants to shove his fis
CoreyMr. Donahue. That’s how the guy is introduced, and I get an off vibe from him right away. For one thing, he’s late. I’ve been dealing poker for two hours with three other guys who showed up tonight and they’re not pleased with letting someone new into the game.Two of them cash out. The third—Mr. Smith—stays but that’s because he’s down three hundred grand. He’s probably hoping to win something off Donahue.“Where’s Nico Tacone?” Donahue demands once he’s sitting and his chips are in front of him.“Mr. Tacone isn’t here tonight,” I say smoothly, dealing the cards.Donahue looks pissed. “Why not? He invited me personally. I was told I’d be playing poker with him.”My eyes narrow slightly. I doubt that’s true. I flick a glance to Leo, at the door. He’s not normal casino security or management. He’s an import from Chicago. Part of the Family, if you know what I mean. I’ve worked at the Bellissimo long enough to know the insiders.Leo’s upper lip curls like he wants to shove his fis
SondraI tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls.I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails.When in Vegas, right?My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this.I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more.I work fast. S