Cold is what I need in here. Cold and deliberate. Planned and ordered. Three steps ahead of Quinn at least, so I can counter wherever he’s heading for, and I can’t do any of it with Gabby in my mind.
It only takes a few minutes for Jenna to arrive by my side as I’m lighting up a smoke. I look up from my seat and blow out, reaching for my drink. She’s as pretty as she always is, hair and makeup painted on like she’s a doll.
“Hey, baby,” she says, her finger running down my arm as she moves to sit on the arm of my chair. “We missed you round here.” I bet she has. Her paycheck’s probably been halved for the last month. As has Loretta’s. I gaze at her as she approaches, too, watching the way her Latino hips swing to the rhythm of the noise the casino creates. It only fuels more images of Gabby, her hips rocking against mine as we danced at that damn beach bar.
“Where you been, baby?” she asks, turning her ass to me and dropping down into my lap. I half smile at the pair of them and wonder where I have been. Not here in this elaborate hole of dishonesty. Dreaming, stupidly.
Seems like it’s back to business.
I knock Loretta off me to stand, intent on getting this out of the damn way before I give in to the idea of not doing it at all. Just fucking. Get my head back in the game and move on. She falls to the side and laughs, Jenna there instantly to help her to her feet before both of them come link their arms through mine. The feel of them sends shivers of repulsion through me, the same ones that have come my entire fucking life. I despise these whores, always have done. Fucking them is as cold and unfeeling as I pretend to be. It’s the main reason I twist them about, use them to fulfil some deep-seated need for control. I just fuck because it gets the angst out, gets the resentment into something.
Quinn kills for his kicks.
I fuck.
Guess we all have our vices.
We’re partway through the crowds heading for the party rooms when a familiar scent travels past my nose. I half stop, turning to look back for whoever’s wearing it, but the giggling at my side and hand sliding down to my dick have me focused on my destination again before I’ve gained any sight of the wearer.
What the hell does it matter anyway? Gabby’s perfume or not, she’s not here, is she? Why would she be? I snort, about ready to take my own damn head off for stupidity and wrap an arm around Loretta’s back to guide her into the room in front. Jenna leans in, still giggling as she lands her lips against my neck, but the scent comes at me again so quickly I push her away and spin for a better look.
“What’s the matter, baby?” she asks, her feet bringing her back in front of me. I move around her and walk back into the crowd, eyes searching the room for whoever is wearing that damn perfume. She catches up and grabs my arm, trying to drag me back a little. It makes me sneer at her and dig into my pocket, throwing a wad of cash in her direction to get her to back the hell off.
“Go to the room,” I grate out, not caring to watch as she gathers up the money. I’m still too busy searching for the smell that has me transfixed. “Ten minutes, Jenna. Get undressed.”
I don’t turn to see where she’s going. I couldn’t care a damn for her or the money she’s taken. This room is full of whores if I want them, but at the moment, and because of this scent, I don’t want anything but whoever is attached to it.
The sea of bodies gives me nothing out of the ordinary. Women and men, all of them gathered around tables gambling their money away to the Cane banks.
Stupid fucks.
I scan again, walking towards the perimeter to get some clarity over the mob. One corner catches my eye, some of Mortoni’s men gathered by the roulette wheel. I search them, then notice Marco’s face turn. I narrow my stare, wondering why he’s here on a Friday night. He shouldn’t be, unless Quinn has set something up that I don’t know about, which is possible.
He laughs suddenly and steps towards the table, moving enough to give me a clear line of sight straight to who he’s laughing with.
What the hell?
Gabby.
Everything in me halts. Feet, eyes, even my damn heart stutters at the sight of her.
I stall in place, neither making the walk to her nor backing away. Jesus.
What is she doing here, especially anywhere near Marco? The thought pisses me off instantly, making all kinds of shit run through my mind. There’s only one reason Marco would have a woman on his arm. Whore or girlfriend.
She’s not a whore, that’s for damn sure.
Whatever stopped me from moving towards them a second ago loosens its grip on me the moment I consider the second option. Ally or not, he is not coming in here parading a woman around who should be on my arm. That shit is not acceptable. If I can’t have her, nor can he. And what the actual fuck, anyway? Has she always been with him, even when we were dreaming?
Bitch. Not that I’m stopping pushing through the damn crowds to get to them. Fuck that. I’ll shove her out of the door before I watch him lay one more finger on her.
A hand lands on my chest out of nowhere, forcefully stopping me from moving any closer to them.
“Move,” I snarl out, batting the hand away. He pushes at me, enough that I step a foot back and to the side to get around whoever the fuck it is. Something catches hold of my arm and spins me back, causing me to reach for my gun without thought.
Quinn.
“I’ll move when you explain that look. Not before.” My hand hovers, eyes snapping between him and back to Gabby again. “’Cause you’re looking pissed, brother. That shit’s not gonna go down well in here.”
“Get out of my way, Quinn.” He steps back a little, eyes boring into mine and then glancing over to where Gabby and Marco are.
“That her?”
I move a step, only to have him yank me back to him, a scowl levelled directly at my face. “I said, is that her. The woman?” I frown at him and shake his hold off. The hell has it got to do with him? “Is. That. Her?” Still I frown, eyes watching Marco’s hand travelling to fucking places it should not go as I pocket my own to control myself. I can feel the energy burning through me, fists ready to launch a damn tirade at the dick. Quinn chuckles. The sound pisses me off nearly as much as watching Marco lean in closer to her.
She suddenly swings her pristine hair to the side and looks directly at me, as if she can sense me watching her. Her eyes pierce mine, recognition flaring, but her expression blanks the moment I notice the confusion mar her face. It’s only a second, and then it’s gone, hidden again under a shroud as she returns her attention to that fucker.
I step forward, true intent to cause damage pushing into the hand that’s still planted firmly on my chest.
“Be careful, Nate. That fucking safety you’re after is precariously balanced when a woman’s involved. Especially one who looks like that.”
My eyes swing back to him, hatred and jealousy hoping to hell he isn’t looking at anything she has on show. He chuckles again and turns his dice in his palm, eyes steady with mine. “You need to calm down, brother, before you do something fucking stupid.”
He’s right. I do.
I’m not listening, though.
“You calm?” Quinn asks, his body swivelling on the stools of our private bar.
I pick up my drink, unsure if calm is a feeling I’m going to manage at all.
He pulled me away from her before I could get one word through my mouth, brought me up here. I’d stormed over regardless of his warning, fists coming out of my pockets ready to fuck Marco’s face up halfway to next week, only to have my brother lead me away from the tirade of abuse I wanted to hurl before I got the chance. “The hell do you care?” I snap out.
He fucking pinched the back of my neck like a fourteen-year-old and took me away from the havoc I was about to let loose. Dick. Sensible for him, but what a dick.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
I glare into my drink some more and then stare back out the window to the casino, wondering why they’ve gone off to o
ne of the back rooms. She stared at me as if I was nothing, barely acknowledging me as even alive. I waited for something to come from her, anything to give me something to cling onto, but she was so fucking cold. She stood like a block of ice as she gazed at me, a slight smile on her face. It wasn’t directed at me, though. It was like she didn’t even know me, or certainly wasn’t prepared to admit it.
“I need to fuck.”
Quinn doesn’t answer my muttering, not that it’s a damn question anyway, more a statement of fact. I do. I need to go do what I originally planned. She clearly doesn’t care, nor can she even be bothered to acknowledge me. Maybe she is a bitch. Either way, I’m not having this ache in my chest interfere with business any longer. Quinn’s right. He needs me back. I fucking need me back. All this shit about dreaming needs to be left where it was—Bora Bora. It’s over now. Done. “I want her gone from here before I’m done, Quinn. Get her out of my fucking sight.”
I stand and light a smoke, then down the rest of my scotch and grab the bottle. I leave without another word, door slamming in my wake. Screw it.
The room spins slightly as I edge around it, barging anyone out of my way who dares get in it, and I finally end up exactly where I began—outside the door to where Jenna and Loretta are waiting for me. Whores. But then maybe they all are. Perhaps Quinn’s been right all these years. It’s easiest this way, isn’t it? No feelings involved. No commitment, no need to protect something. I should just keep using pussy until it runs dry, fuck it up with some new twisted ideas that come from the depths of me.
I nod at one of the security team, letting him know we’re not to be disturbed. This is going to take as long as it damn well takes, and he can stand fucking guard while I do what needs doing to get my head straight again.
Chapter Fifteen
Nate.
Nate is here.
Of all the casinos in Chicago, it had to be the same one that Mortoni would use. This is why I didn’t want to come to Chicago. If this were a romance story, of course, the star-crossed lovers would reunite and complete the fairy tale. Shame that isn’t even true in children’s stories.
They should stick to Grimm’s Fairy Tales.
My eyes drink him in. For that second, I’m back in Bora Bora. The sun on my skin, a smile across my face and no care in the world other than the feeling growing in my chest and nagging at my heart. Nate.
But I can’t get swept up. Losing myself in my memories and slipping back to the girl I could be with Nate would be so easy. But I’d lose my brother. And despite everything, I can’t let that happen.
“Gabriella?”
Mortoni’s hand skirts around my waist, his clammy fingers running over the exposed skin at the base of my spine, pulling me closer against him. My attention needs to be on the mission tonight. As I tear my eyes away from Nate, I feel the hole in my heart rip open again.
“Sorry?” I shake my head and turn my attention to the men around me. After being in Mortoni’s company for all this time, I’m done. This needs to move forward. Seeing Nate here just escalated my timeline.
“I was saying that you seem to have the connections needed, rather than your brother.” Mortoni’s eyes narrow on me. He’s treated me like a trophy wife all evening, parading me around on his arm to his friends and associates. So far, he’s not asked for the diamonds or the details I gave him over our conversation.
“I do. Perhaps we should go somewhere to conclude our business?” I step from his grasp and indicate the door to the rear of the room. After I had the itinerary, I pulled the blueprints of the building, so I knew my escape routes if needed.
“Gabriella, what’s your hurry?
“I believed you wanted to make a trade tonight, Marco. You did have your jet sent halfway across the States to ensure it.”
“The night is early.” He raises his glass and toasts with his henchmen. “You’re here now.”
“Indeed, but…” I glance towards where Nate was but can’t find him through the crowd. My eyes search and see what could be him accompanied by another man, beating a hasty retreat to the far end of the room. My attention switches back to Marco. “I will happily walk out if you stall for any longer.”
“That would not be a good idea.” His voice loses all the sleaze and charm of a moment ago.
“Then let’s go.” My legs strut out towards the back room, following in the direction I saw Nate go, hoping we can use the space for our conversation. Before I reach it, two men stand, barring my path with their brawn. No sign of Nate.
“See, Gabriella, this is a Cane casino. No one goes through those doors without the invitation of a Cane. Be careful. You show your inexperience. Now if you come with me, I have a smaller room where we can talk. You seem to have lost your manners,” his voice whispers in my ear and chills my skin. I don’t trust this man, and I’m yet to decide if he was the one who double-crossed my brother.
Of course, not getting the diamonds would have put a dent in that plan. But I can’t work out why he’d do it. He lost people in the gunfight. He had everything to gain and nothing to lose.
My cheeks plump up as I smile to Marco, gritting my teeth as I do. “Lead the way.”
His hand runs down my spine and rests precariously over my ass. “I’d suggest moving your hand, Mr Mortoni.”
“Come on now, Gabriella. And I thought we were going to become good friends. Your brother and I have a working relationship. You and me? Well, the possibilities are many.”
His comment turns my stomach and a moment of concern registers in the back of my mind. I may be very good at what I do, but all of this…show isn’t me. I’m someone who hides in plain sight, uses the shadows and blends in to accomplish my goal. I work alone, relying only on myself. There are too many variables to account for with other people’s reactions or decisions. And although I thought I had Mortoni figured out, I’m starting to think there’s something else at play.
We head through the crowd of people in the opposite direction I came in and reach the far side of the casino. A door is opened for us, and I walk into a small conference-style room. A boardroom-sized table dominates the space, not allowing for much else.
I walk up the side to the head of the table and pause, my hands resting on the back of the chair facing the rest of the room. Marco comes into the room, alone, and closes us in. He’s between me and the door, but right now that doesn’t bother me. All I know is that I need to wrap this up, ensure my brother’s head remains attached to his body, and then find Nate.
“Mr Mortoni, I’m afraid my patience has about worn out.” I hitch my dress and remove the packet of diamonds securely fastened to my inside thigh. “Now, cut the crap.” I toss the diamonds onto the table. “I don’t like playing games. I thought I made that clear.”
Mortoni keeps his eyes glued to his bounty and pounces on them as one escapes, skipping across the glass and catching the light. “And I thought I said I don’t like it when people fuck with me,” he snarls, his face turning a deep purple as he does. “I may not be a diamond thief like you, but this isn’t the full amount. Where are the rest of my diamonds?”
“You know what happened.” Knowing who was behind the bust up would certainly help.
“You think I’ll lift the order on your brother for half?” He cackles as if he holds all the power over the situation.
“It appears we’re at an impasse, then.” My voice betrays no nerves or other response from his outrage. He takes a step towards me down one side of the table. I counter, moving around until we’re circling one another. Six feet of solid glass table lies between us. A dozen chairs.
“I don’t see it that way. I only have half the payment and you don’t have your brother.”
I’d love to wipe that righteous grin from his face. “You have half your diamonds, true. You still need to sell them. Or work out how you’re going to profit from them.” I watch his smug smile slide from his face. “It’s simple. Stop treating me like some floozy bimbo. I will negotiate te
rms of business with you. Equally. You will respect me, or I won’t replace the stolen diamonds, and I take my connections and walk.”
“You’d put your brother at risk?” Mortoni’s face screws up as he tries to see the angle here.
“No. I expect you to lift it. I delivered half the diamonds. You knew half were stolen. We didn’t agree that the full package would be replaced. If you want that, you need to play nice.” I nod to the small pouch he’s clinging to. “You have your payment. So, unless you want to give me further evidence of why I shouldn’t trust you, I’d cut the crap and start listening.”
Marco crosses his arms and widens his stance. His attempt to make himself look bigger just comes off as a stupid move. “Go on then, I’m listening.”
“You currently have ten million in diamonds, but only if you can sell them. With the issues surrounding blood diamonds from South Africa in recent years, moving and trading in diamonds has become more…complex. More honest. Buyers don’t want to risk dealing in blood anymore. Legitimate and authenticated diamonds are what’s in demand. Either a Gemological Institute of America or European Gemological Laboratory certificate would suffice. Of course, that’s the hard part.”
“And how do you know I don’t already have a buyer?”
“If you have a buyer, Marco, then you have a problem because when they inspect the merchandise, which they will, they will want to see the certificates, or they’ll assume these aren’t genuine. That, or you’ll only get a third of their true market value at best.”
“Fake? I didn’t pay your brother to give me fake diamonds.” His fists pump down to his side, and he snarls over the table.
“They aren’t fake,” I confirm. “They are very real. But you need the certificates in order to authenticate them. Call it a seal of approval.”
Devious Eyes (A Cane Novel Book 2) Page 13
