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Terry had several conditions about my living here. One was that I couldn’t use my real name—hence I’m “Mrs. Diamond,” after my favorite rock. Another rule was that internal cameras should be installed in each room as well as the perimeter, and yet another was that none of the Solara staff would be allowed inside my home while I was there, which I thought was weird, until I realized he thought someone might try to hurt me.
Well, now someonehastried to hurt me, and Solara is my safe place precisely because of all those “annoying” precautions he wanted me to take.
“Can you give me an idea about when—” Katy starts again.
“Well, I’ll be down here a few more hours,” I break in. “Maybe you could send someone now?”
She hems and haws but eventually agrees that she can do that. And I can go back to relaxing.
For now.
I swap pleasantries with a few neighbors I recognize, watch their kids play Marco Polo in the pool, and ignore the loud-talkers on phones who like to make Very Important Business Decisions while they take in the sun.
And every time I think about a certain pair of strong arms wrapping me up, I turn my mind decisively away.
But by the evening, even surrounded by all these happy families and bragging billionaires, I have to admit…I’m a little lonely.
I’m an extrovert at heart. I don’t do so good sitting around on my own. And frankly, I don’t like to think I’m inhiding. I’m getting more and more embarrassed about the fact that some fucker took a shot at me, and my first reaction was to flee the city.
That ain’t me.
Not anymore.
So when I call Frank from one of the co-working rooms at the clubhouse, and he tells me he hasn’t made much progress on who attacked me, my heart sinks. I think he’s going to advise me to stay away again tomorrow, and I don’t know if I can do that. But then he surprises me.
“I’m sorry to ask this, Breezy,” he sighs. “But we got to get this business with the Consortium settled. Can you come in tomorrow to sign off on the deal?”
I haven’t looked forward so much to signing my own name in a long time.
But as soon as I set foot in the Golden Sands the next morning, I feel an undercurrent of nervous energy that sets my teeth on edge. Something’s different. The floor staff move with an extra urgency, whispered conversations cutting off as I pass. I keep my face impassive, but internally, I’m all jumbled up. Do they know about the attempt on my life? I told Frank to keep it quiet.
Phil Reynolds, the casino manager, hurries over as I head to the corporate offices on a mission to find Frank, his usually immaculate appearance slightly disheveled. His hair isn’t as perfectly smoothed down as usual, and his tie is slightly loose. It’s so out of character that alarm bells immediately start ringing in my head.
“Mrs. Colombo,” he says, lowering his voice and leaning in close. “Juno Bianchi arrived an hour ago. She’s requesting to see you as soon as possible.”
My first response is to curse, even though I adore Juno, I really do. But friend or not, her presence complicates things. The Bianchi Family’s support here in Vegas could be crucial in the coming days. But Juno Bianchi is a fucking apex predator.
She’ll see an opportunity for herself, too.
“Has Frank seen her yet?” I ask.
“No, ma’am; she arrived just a half hour ago with no advance warning, but Mr. Brooks came down to meet her.” Holden. Thank God for Holden. “Mr. Brooks put Ms. Bianchi and her party in the usual suites,” Phil goes on, his eyes darting around nervously. He hesitates for a moment before adding, “There were also two women from Chicago who arrived with them. They were vouched for by Ms. Bianchi, so Mr. Brooks gave them a separate suite on the same floor.”
Two unknown variables in an already volatile situation.
Wonderful.
“Does Holden know them?”
Holden was Terry’s personal assistant in name, but his real job in the casino was to act as a special liaison for VIPs. The kind of VIPs who help make Family business run smooth. He’s kind of the Shadow Phil, working to keep our underworld guests happy the way Phil keeps the legitimate casino-hotel business running. So if these women are anyone important to the Family, Holden will know them.
But Phil shakes his head. “He didn’t know their faces. I think…I think Frank might wanna get eyes on them, if you know what I mean.”
Idoknow what he means. Whoever these two women are, they’re not innocent little lambs, not if Juno is associating with them. “Anything else?” I prompt, sensing Phil has more to say.
His expression softens slightly, sympathy creeping into his eyes. It makes me want to scream. I don’t need pity; I need strength. “I’ve finalized the funeral arrangements for Mr. Colombo. Everything’s set for the day after tomorrow.”
The walls seem to close in, the noise of the slot machines becoming a deafening roar in my ears. I have to swallow before I manage to find my voice. “Thank you, Phil. Send some coffee up to my suite, will you? And let Juno Bianchi know I’m available.”
