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She looked up at me, and those eyes held defiance.
“Just enjoy the ride, mysh.”
With a sigh, she relented and leaned her head against my shoulder.
My mouse’s surrender was always a gift.
I moved forward, carrying her towards the inn. Her warmth seeped into my bones.
We stepped inside and I finally got a chance to really scan the place. The other times I’d come here tonight, I had been in a rush.
Even at this late hour, the murmur of conversations and the clinking of glasses filled the air, mixing with the rich scent of polished wood and aged whiskey. The plush carpet underfoot and the gleam of gold fixtures added a tactile richness to our entrance, enveloping us in the inn’s lavish embrace.
She scanned the space too—the plush carpet and gold fixtures.
The first thing that struck me about the inn was its perfect attempt at encapsulating the lifeblood of New Orleans.
Jazz.
Gold framed portraits of legendary musicians graced the walls, their expressions capturing the soul and passion of their craft. Where there were not images of jazz legends, large cases hung filled with vintage saxophones, trumpets, and trombones. Not just decoration but a homage to the city’s great musical heritage.
The inn provided an upscale restaurant along with two bars, all constructed to allure tourists with deep pockets and a penchant for the city’s darker tales.
I smiled. “King David told me the history of this place.”
Emily quirked her brows.
“The hotel is connected to the New Orleans Mafia from long ago, specifically to Silvestro Carollo, known as Silver Dollar Sam.”
Tons of my men flanked me.
I gazed down at her. “Have you ever heard of Silver Dollar Sam?”
She shook her head.
“Surely the US has more important gangsters than him.” I took us toward the elevators. “Regardless, in the 19th century, Silver Dollar Sam’s rise to power had been marked by cunning brutality.”
Emily watched me.
“According to King David, Silver Dollar Sam had acquired the property in a lavish gesture for his secret mistress.”
Emily frowned, probably not liking that he was cheating.
“The hotel was their sanctuary, hidden from the prying eyes of his wife.”
She raised her hand and pointed at my head.
“What?”
Then, she formed her hand into a gun.
A dark chuckle left me. I gently touched her hand, smoothing her fingers back out. “I would never cheat on you.”
Satisfied, she laid her head back down on my shoulder.
“Their tale took a dark turn when Sam discovered that she had fallen for his brother.”
Emily snickered.
