10. Nik

CHAPTER 10

Nik

I shadow Brie through the casino as she walks the floor, constantly scanning for threats, and listen carefully as Brie explains the place. The no-natural-light policy, combined with the labyrinthine setup designed to pull people in and keep them there, really does mess with the head.

"This is the main floor," Brie says to me, her voice carrying over the din. "We have the high roller rooms through there, invitation-only—where dreams can be made and broken in a few hours."

She points, and I take in the layout and try to figure out a mental floorplan. We weave through the sea of people, Brie nodding to regulars and greeting staff. I gauge each interaction, cataloging potential risks and allies.

I might be Consortium, as Holden Brooks so sneeringly pointed out, but I'll be damned if I don't do my job right.

"Phil," Brie calls out to a tall man in a well-cut suit. "A moment of your time?"

The man approaches, his smile not quite reaching his eyes as he takes me in. "Mrs. Colombo! I thought you'd be…"

"Mourning?" she asks, and there's that twang of irony again, the one that makes me wonder just what is going on behind that mask she likes to wear. "I'm not a brooder, Phil. The funeral went off very well, I thought. Thank you for your help."

He gives a cautious smile of acknowledgment. "Will you be dining in the restaurant later?"

"I'll see how I feel. Phil, this is Nik Kusek, my new bodyguard. Nik, Phil Reynolds manages operations at the Golden Sands. The place wouldn't run without him."

He's gaping at me, even as I shake his hand. "Pleasure," I say.

"Bodyguard?" is his response.

"Frank thought it would be wise," Brie says vaguely.

"But I thought—" He breaks off, giving a silly little laugh. "I'm sorry, I thought that—Ms. Kusek, was it?—I thought that Ms. Kusek worked for…" Brie doesn't fill him in, and neither do I, both of us letting the moment stretch until Reynolds' instincts as a host take over. "I hope you'll enjoy your time at the Golden Sands, Ms. Kusek," he says desperately.

I just nod.

We move away and Brie continues the tour, introducing me to various staff members. We reach a locked door, and Brie swipes her keycard again. "This is where the eyes gather," she says, ushering me through a long corridor and into a high-tech security room. Screens line the walls, displaying feeds from hundreds of cameras to a team of security officers watching over the casino.

As we make our way back to the main floor, my curiosity overcomes me. "Have you seen the security footage from…well, from the night your husband was killed?"

"No. Because there was no security footage. Terry allowed no cameras inside any of his offices. Said privacy was crucial for business."

"But the outside?" I ask. "Footage from the corridors leading up to his rooms? Someone hanging around?—"

"No," she says abruptly, then changes the subject. "Hungry?"

Time seems to have lost all meaning here, and when I check my phone, it's much later than I realized. All that Italian funeral food was a while ago. "I could eat."

"Perfect," Brie says, leading me toward a secluded corner of the casino, through another door marked Staff Only . "But first, I need to change. Can't have dinner without a show, right?"

"Hold up," I say sharply, as she keycards open a door marked PRIVATE. "What's in there?"

"All my secrets," she says sarcastically, but she allows me to go in before her and scan the room for threats.

No threats. Just a dressing room: two rolling rails of clothes covered in plastic from the cleaners, and a brightly-lit makeup station to the side. I stand guard outside, and when Brie emerges again, my mouth drops open. Literally. That luscious body is draped in a form-fitting gold dress that hugs her tight in all the right places, with a long slit up the left leg, and neckline low enough to draw my eyes despite my best efforts to remain professional.

"That's not exactly widow's weeds," I manage to say, voice rougher than I meant it to be.

Brie's laugh is sharp, tinged with something that might be bitterness. "The staff and our guests all need to see that nothing has changed. I'm a mascot for the Golden Sands, and I'm willing to play my part. Now heel, puppy."

My arm shoots out to stop her sauntering past me, and I lean in close, watching her watching me. "The ‘heel' thing was cute the first time. Not the second. You've had your joke—but I've been nothing but respectful to you, and I don't appreciate being called a dog."

She flushes, a quick and deep mottling of her décolletage and neck. "Fine," she says stiffly. "I'll play nice."

I drop my arm and she moves past me, the scent of her perfume beckoning me on. I follow, aware of the eyes that track our movement across the casino floor. She's putting on a show, and every person in this place is her audience.

I get it, now. Brie was right. This is her job. That golden gown? Just a uniform. She's playing a role here, just like any other service provider in this casino. Her role just looks a little more glamorous.

We enter the casino's high-end rooftop restaurant and the ma?tre d' appears as if by magic, leading us to a booth set on a dais, with a view of the whole restaurant.

And the whole restaurant has a view of Brie Colombo.

My first instinct is to ask for somewhere more secluded, but at least here I'll be able to see anyone approaching. As we settle into our seats, I can't help but notice how her golden dress makes Brie's green eyes pop, how it catches the light with every subtle movement, how it dips low between her breasts, beckoning my gaze in…

"See something you like?" Brie's voice is teasing, a smirk playing on her lips.

What the—? I force my eyes away, reminding myself that I'm here as her bodyguard, not her date, and reach for the menu. "Just doing my job. Assessing potential threats."

"Are my tits a threat, Nik?" she asks, leaning forward slightly.

Before my brain can formulate a response, a waiter appears at our table. Brie orders "the usual" and I ask for the same, because I can't take in a single word of the menu.

My mind is on the golden goddess opposite me.

And it should be on our surroundings.

As we wait for our food, silence settles between us, but it's not entirely uncomfortable. I find myself studying Brie, trying to reconcile the shrewd woman I've seen go toe-to-toe with Eva Novak, with the vulnerable widow I saved from assassination, and now this glittering, larger-than-life figure before me.

"You have questions," Brie says suddenly, breaking the silence.

"A few."

She takes a sip of sparkling water, her lipstick leaving a perfect imprint on the glass. "Ask away. But for every question you ask, I get to ask one in return."

I weigh my options. Information is crucial, but so is maintaining professional distance. Still, Eva will reward me for anything I might glean. And besides all that, curiosity wins out. "How did you end up here? Married to a gay mob boss?"

"The short answer? Survival. I grew up with nothing, and I swore I'd never go back to that life." She swirls her water, lost in thought for a moment. "Your turn. Eva Novak's guard detail. That's quite a position for someone your age."

"I'm the lowest on the pole. Hell, I'm not even on the pole, not yet. This is the first time she called on me."

"So why'd she pick you?"

I shrug, keeping my face neutral. "I'm good at what I do."

"And what exactly is that? Besides insulting Mafia widows in Russian, of course."

She's really not going to let that go. "I enjoy taking bullets meant for other people. And what about you? What are your reasons for playing figurehead for a Family that's not really yours?"

Her eyes flash. "Who says they're not mine?" For a moment, I think I've pushed too far. Then she laughs. "Let's just say I have my reasons. Just like you have yours for taking this job."

The corner of my mouth twitches. "Okay."

"Your father," she says abruptly, and I go stiff all over. "I'm sorry about what happened to him. Juno Bianchi told me." She pauses. "And I hear you got vengeance on his killer, too."

"I did." She opens her mouth to ask another question but I hold up my hand. The last thing I'm going to do is talk about my father with this woman. "My turn. What makes you think you can trust me?"

"I don't trust you," Brie says, pushing her barely-touched plate away. "So. Why did you take this job with me?"

"I was ordered to."

"Uh-huh. You could've gotten out of it if you really wanted, I bet."

She has more faith in my manipulative skills than seems warranted. But I set down my fork, considering my answer. "Maybe I'm just a sucker for a damsel in distress."

"I'm no damsel, honey. And I'm certainly not in distress."

"Remind me again—who was getting shot at the other night?"

She leans forward, her gaze intense. "Why did you save me? You don't even like me."

The question, an echo of the time she asked before, still catches me off guard. Because I've been asking myself the same thing. "It's not a matter of liking you," I say, stilted. "It'd be bad for business for a Consortium member to be in the vicinity of a dead Colombo. Or—or maybe I just don't like seeing innocent people get hurt."

Brie's laugh is soft, almost sad. "Oh, Nik. There are no innocent people in this world. Not anymore." But her face hardens and she says, "I know Eva thinks you'll be able to feed back intel to her. But you won't have a chance to hear any Colombo Family business with me. I'm kept well out of the loop."

"Then I guess we both know where we stand."

"We do."

We fall into silence again, but it's different now. Charged. Heady. I find myself studying the curve of her neck, the way her lips part slightly as she breathes, the way her nipples are hardened and clearly visible under the gold satin.

Fuck.

This is not good.

We've finished our meals, so I stand abruptly. "We should get back to your suite. I want to do another security sweep before you turn in for the night. You must be tired after the day you've had."

Brie rises gracefully, a knowing smile playing on her lips. "Sure. Let's head back to my suite."

I ignore the seductive way she says it, but I still can't shake the feeling that I'm in over my head. Eva wanted me to get close to Brie, to be her eyes and ears. But I'm starting to think that this assignment won't be as simple as I first thought.

And the worst part?

I don't dislike Brie Colombo quite as much as I used to.