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I blink at him, widening my eyes in a perfect picture of confusion. “Well, I haven’t seen him around lately. Is something wrong?”
Of course I know what happened to Big Joe Buccino, former Underboss of the Colombos. The entire state knows he’s cooling his heels in federal prison, waiting on his trial for several murders. But Frank doesn’t need to know that I pay close attention to the business. No one does.
Safer that way.
Frank sighs heavily. “Well, he’s, uh, he’s taking some time out. The thing is, Terry hadn’t appointed someone to take Big Joe’s place yet. And now with Big Joe unavailable and Terry…” he trails off, then clears his throat. “Well, we’ve got a bit of a succession problem on our hands.”
I nod slowly, keeping my expression slightly curious but very, very innocent. Because I know exactly what the problem is. Vince Sabatelli and Larry Caruso are both gunning for the top spot, and neither one is likely to back down without a fight. But I just blink at Frank, waiting for him to continue.
“Thing is, Brie,” Frank says, squeezing my hand. “The thing is, while we sort all this out, we need you to carry on as usual. You were always such a great face for the casino, and the Family, too, and we need you to keep on doing that, if you can. We need youto be a…afigureheadfor the Colombos. Can you do that for us, sweetheart?”
A figurehead? What they want is a puppet, someone to smile and wave and distract while the men decide who gets to be king. But I paste on a bright smile and nod. “Of course, Frank. Whatever the Family needs.”
“Thank you, sweetheart. I knew we could count on you.” He pauses, a flicker of concern crossing his face. “There is one thing, though. Your first duty…well, it might be difficult. Of course, I’ll be right there with you. You can let me do the talking.”
The Feds, I wonder? I can’t imagine so. The first call Frank made after finding his cousin’s body was to a lawyer. Frank’s no genius, but he knew enough to do that.
I lean forward. “What is it, Frank? What do you need me to do?”
“Terry was due to have a meeting tonight. We need you to attend for him. I’ll tell you what to say, of course?—”
“Of course,” I echo, then keep going, fast, when I sound more sarcastic than I meant to. “Of course I can do that for you, Frank. Anything for the Family.” I bat my lashes, as much as I can, anyway.
Should’ve gone for the falsies.
CHAPTER 2
Nik
I’mfive minutes early coming up to the penthouse suite in the hotel we’re staying in, but I’m still the last to arrive. Damn it. As soon as the door guards have patted me down, I hurry in as fast as I can without looking like I’m rushing. The Novak Consortium’s inner circle has gathered in the living room around its dark sun: Eva Novak.
I’ve trained hard to never let my face betray how I’m feeling, but Eva—about a foot smaller than me and with a waist I think I could fit my hands around—is still as scary to me now as she was the first time I saw her. She’s still young—mid-thirties, maybe—and beautiful in a ferocious kind of way, with her clouds of black hair and hooded, amber eyes. When she speaks English, it’s with an accent that to me sounds upper-class, but with a European edge to some of the vowels and consonants. She’s tiny, even with the stiletto heels she favors, but her wealth, her status, her sheerpower—they make her a giant in this shadow world we all scurry around in.
Every year, Eva spends a few months Stateside from her European home to sell her wares as quickly as possible beforegetting back to her luxurious life. And ever since I can remember, my father would fly out here on the Consortium’s dime to act as guard detail—first for Eva’s father, Zoltan, and more recently for Eva herself, when she took over. And this year I’m here instead of my father, because the Kuseks have always worked for the Consortium.
And now it’s my turn to prove myself. To make my father proud.
I flew in a few days ago, just like Eva, and I’ve been making myself useful. I act in her guard detail when she needs an extra body, and I’ve kept my ears open as she met with the movers and shakers of the Las Vegas Underworld. And I’ve learned a whole hell of a lot in a very short time.
Enough to know that I want to be one of the chosen ones. Very occasionally, Eva Novak will hand-pick an American to return to Europe with her, to work closely with her, to become a part of her inner circle. And I want her to chooseme.
Not just because of the opportunity, but because there’s nothing left for me here in America. The Kuseks of Philadelphia have dwindled to me alone. And I want to be useful. I don’t want to waste my talents, waste the grueling training that my father put me through as I pushed myself beyond my limits. I’m thankful to him for making me who I am.
And I hope I can make him proud of me, if he’s still watching over me.
I take my place near the outside perimeter, close enough to respond if called on, but far away enough to observe the room. My father’s advice comes back to me:you must be a silent guardian, always watching, always ready—and always listening.
I earn a nod from Leon, Eva’s personal bodyguard. He’s thrice her size, coming up on sixty, and he moves slow but unstoppable like a tank. He’s taken more than one bullet for his charge, and he heads up security for the Consortium as well as personally protecting its leader.
And that leader, Eva, is impeccable as always in a tailored charcoal suit that probably cost more than the jet fuel it took to fly her over here in one of her private planes. She raises one dark, eyebrow at me, making my insides turn icy, before returning her attention to her phone, which I can see even from my seat is lighting up with messages.
“Since our friend Salvatore Colombo decided to take early retirement,” she says, “I assumed that meeting would be canceled. And yet I am told we will meet with the Widow Colombo instead.”
Markov, the Consortium’s money man, shifts uncomfortably in his seat. “I’m sure things must be chaotic over there right now.”
“Chaotic or not, business is business, and I won’t waste my time with some non-entity. Get hold of them and cancel the meeting, since they did not have the manners to do it, and express my disappointment in their lack of professionalism.”
I feel the words coming out before I can stop them. It’s a risk, speaking up like this, but something tells me it’s a risk worth taking. “Are you sure you want to do that, boss?”
