2. Nik

CHAPTER 2

Nik

I'm five 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 sheer power —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 before getting 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 choose me .

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?"

The room goes silent. All eyes turn to me, Eva's the most intense of all. "Dominika, isn't it? Dominika Kusek?"

She knows very well who I am, but it pleases her to pretend she doesn't. "Nik, ma'am, is what I prefer."

"And what do you suggest instead, Dominika?"

There's the slightest emphasis on my full name. But I keep going. "Meet with the widow today. But change the offer—see how much you can push them for. The Colombos won't be in a place to bargain, not with the Family in disarray."

Eva leans back, studying me, weighing my suggestion. Then, slowly, a smile spreads across her face. "Well, well. It seems our quiet Dominika has some bite after all." She turns to Markov. "You heard her. Increase the offer. Let's see how the Colombos handle a little—what do the Americans call it? Ah, yes. Hardball ."

As Markov hurries off, the others are looking at me differently now. With respect, yes, but also wariness. They're not sure what to make of me yet. But I don't care, if I've succeeded in showing the boss that I can be useful.

Eva smiles her cat-that-got-the-cream smile. "Well. Let's see how things play out." Her gaze returns to me as she stands, smoothing her suit jacket. The movement is graceful, controlled. She doesn't need size or strength to lead. She has something much more important: power, and utter self-confidence. This is a woman who could rain down death on a whole city with a flicker of her eyelashes, and so in this moment, under her approval, I feel more alive than ever. "You're proving to be a useful player in the Novak Consortium, Dominika. A fine replacement for your father Mikolaj, may he rest in peace. And I'm sure he does, thanks to you."

The mention of my father strikes hard, though I don't show it. For a moment, I'm back in our old training room, my father's voice in my ears. In this world, you're either predator or prey. And I didn't raise you to be prey, child.

I give a nod of thanks to Eva. I do hope that my father can see me from wherever he is.

Eva turns her attention to the rest of the room. "I will meet those attending with me in the lobby at ten this evening, when we will drive over to the Golden Sands. The rest of you can enjoy yourselves in Sin City—but not too much."

There are grins and chuckles of appreciation as the men stand to file out of the penthouse, but I wait until the room has emptied out. By then, Eva is heading toward her private rooms, shadowed by Leon, and I find myself hurrying after her. "Ms. Novak," I call out, and she pauses in surprise, turns to stare at me. "I'd like to be at that meeting, if you'll allow it."

"Why?"

"I want to get a look at the Colombos," I tell her truthfully. "I'm still learning, and?—"

She turns to keep walking. I fucked up by being late, I guess, even though I wasn't. But as she reaches the door to her bedroom, she calls back over her shoulder, "Be in the lobby on time, Dominika."

Grinning, I leave the penthouse and go back to my room to freshen up, looking over the Las Vegas Strip stretching out under my windows, a glittering snake as the sun goes down.

I don't know that I like it here. This is a city built on dreams and desperation, where fortune lives side by side with failure. I don't like luck . The concept of it. I made myself, with my father's help, and I will continue to control my destiny—as I proved just now.

I can step up and seize that golden ring: power, prestige, wealth. All the things my father worked for that he never realized.

And for some reason I think of the Colombo widow, suddenly thrust into a role she can't be prepared for. Eva regards her as a pawn in someone else's game, a non-consideration.

I wonder…who really did kill her husband?

Still, that's not a question I need to worry about. The only question I need to ask is whether I'm ready for what comes next. And as I make my way down to the lobby twenty minutes before ten—I will never be caught coming last to a meeting again—I know the answer.

I was born ready.