Chapter 18

18

Cole

A ugust and Mike took the pervert's phone to the police station, telling them he dropped it at the casino while visiting over the weekend.

We haven't heard anything about charges yet, but those things take time. I'm sure the cops will have to make sure the videos and shit were on the phone before the guards took possession of it and aren't just setting the fucker up.

I bet it'll be enough to get search warrants for the stores, which will lead them to the cameras and who put them there easily enough.

And while all that is fine and dandy, I still can't figure out what's going on with Cass, why she's so damn set on dating more assholes and refusing to get naked with me again.

That's where my head is at when the four of us are finishing up another family dinner tonight .

"After Flynn's attack on Sophie, he told us that the Russians were funding him. It looks like they've finally decided to retaliate against me for killing Petrov," Dante remarks as soon as he finishes his tiramisu.

"How will we find out if they're the culprits?" my mom asks him, her brow pinched in concern.

"Well, butterfly, you're not going to like it, but we could send Cole and Cass to some of the Russian businesses–"

"No."

"All they would have to do is talk to employees, ours and theirs, see if anyone seems suspicious or angry at me personally."

"I said no," my mom repeats as if he didn't hear her the first time. "It's too dangerous."

"All in a day's work in the mafia," Dante replies. "Besides, the kids will take their guards with them and be armed at all times. Cass has proven to me that she can take care of herself. Cole too."

"It'll be fine, Mom," I assure her. I mostly just like the idea of time with Cass outside of the penthouse walls. It'll sort of be like our own date. "They're bound to love me, right? Yuri's charming, handsome, long-lost grandson come to fill his shoes?"

"Don't make me barf up my tiramisu," Cass mutters.

Glancing at her plate, I point out, "You barely touched it."

"Cole's right. He'll probably be relatively safe," Vanessa huffs. "Cass can make her own decision, but she will be in more danger..."

"I'll do it," she says right away. "Just tell us what you want us to do."

"Okay," Dante says, looking uneasy thanks to my mom pointing out the danger to his daughter. "My people were placed in charge of each establishment a year ago. There are still plenty of Russians around though, mixed in with more of my employees now. Petrov owned bars with casinos and whores, golf clubs, restaurants, and of course he has drug dealers in every establishment."

"I thought prostitution was illegal in Vegas," I remark .

"Oh, it is," Dante responds. "And it's why I don't deal in them. Petrov got around the law by calling his girls ‘escorts.' When I took over, I got rid of most of them, only keeping a few for his regulars. I don't particularly like being in the flesh industry, and Lochlan would probably prefer if we didn't cut into his business. But for now, there are still a handful of whores. They don't take any new customers upstairs, only vetted regulars, so we don't have to worry about the police doing any type of sting operations. Now that Lochlan has finally given me his law enforcement contacts, the blackmail he has on the higher ups, it's no longer much of a concern."

"So, you want me and Cass to just wander into some of these businesses and hang out, chat up whoever is chatty?" I ask him.

"Exactly. By being on the ground, you will hopefully see or hear things the others could've missed. Especially you, Cole. I don't want you to hide the fact that you're Yuri's grandson, or my potential heir. Brag about it, act like you hate me, do whatever it takes to get in with the Russian holdovers. We need an inside man."

"Okay, yeah, I can do that," I agree.

"And if he plays into being one of them, he'll be safer," Vanessa remarks. "But Cass, they'll only ever see her as the enemy's daughter."

"That's true, butterfly," Dante agrees as he looks to Cass. "You'll need to make sure they all know that you won't take anyone's shit. Got it?"

"So, I can kick their asses if I want?" she asks.

"If they provoke you, then yes. Punch them, shoot them, whatever. I don't care. The guards will be there to make sure it doesn't get out of hand. Just be aware of your surroundings. Don't start anything, and don't get dragged into shit if you're heavily outnumbered."

"Understood," she replies with a twinkle of what looks like anticipation in her eye.

"I have some people looking into all the accounting books for the Russian's businesses, making sure nobody is skimming off the top. So far, every penny has been accounted for. But I wouldn't put anything past the bastards who stayed once Petrov was killed. They're still loyal to him, no matter what lip service they may pay me. And they always will be, which is why we have to keep them close."

"Why not just kick them all out of the city?" I ask him.

"Because I don't have enough employees that I trust to run all the fronts. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you that I'm laundering money through the places, just like Kozlov did, but on a much larger scale. So, for now, I need them. If I could, I would sell every last building and give your mother all the proceeds."

My mom scoffs. "I don't want a dime of his dirty money."

"When should we get started?" I ask.

"As soon as you two are ready."

"Tonight?" I suggest looking to Cass. "Unless you have another hot date to get to."

"Tonight is fine with me," she agrees.

"Then let's head out at ten, give everyone time to get good and wasted before we start trying to get them to talk."

A little after ten, I'm waiting downstairs on the main floor, leaning my forearms on the stair rail when Cass's heels finally start the click-clap down them.

While I figured she would dress up, I didn't expect her to look so damn sexy.

The lime green halter-top dress decorated with iridescent glass beads connects to the short skirt by thin straps similar to the one across her sternum. Other than that one-inch strap, the V at the front plunges down clear past her belly button, down to the top of the skirt hugging her hips.

"You like?" she asks when she reaches the bottom of the stairs, even doing a full circle in her gold heels to show me her bare back other than the tiny skirt and her long red waves that sway at the top of her ass.

"I…" When I try to make a comment, nothing comes out. In my white dress shirt and black pants, I'm going to look like a chump next to her.

"We should leave before Daddy sees me and makes me change," Cass says, strutting over to the door where four male guards are gathered waiting for our departure.

They all freeze as if being held at gunpoint when she approaches. Finally, August, working overtime tonight, moves. He opens the main door for Cass to walk through.

No wonder Dante doesn't let her leave the casino grounds. The woman makes smart men stupid just by walking toward them. I'm surprised Cass doesn't start a riot every time she leaves the premises.

Maybe she does.

I can already tell that it's going to be a long fucking night.

Dante gave our guards a list of formerly Russian-owned establishments listed by what he believed to be safest to most dangerous. No surprise, we're heading to the first one on the list, a sports bar that's only a few blocks from the Royal Palace. Dante could have an army of guards there in seconds.

We haven't been in the bar for ten minutes, barely enough time to order two beers, and Cass to ask for a glass, when two older men approach us at the counter where we're waiting for our drinks.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" I ask.

The taller, leaner man with bushy eyebrows says something in Russian.

"Sorry, I don't have a clue what you just said," I tell him.

"You're Petrov's grandson, aren't you?" he asks in English.

Wow. They recognized me even faster than I expected.

"So, I've been told," I respond coolly.

"Your mother didn't teach you our mother tongue? What a shame," the one with visible nose hairs remarks.

"Ah, I'm not sure if my mother even knows any Russian. "

"Of course, she does," Eyebrows says. "Yuri and his old lady never spoke English unless it was necessary to communicate with outsiders." With that comment, he gives away that he knew my grandfather well enough to meet his wife. He then glares at Cass, making me certain these men are biased against anyone not born Russian. There's no way they could know she's Dante's daughter.

My observation is further proven when Nose Hair says to Cass, "You could earn good money for us, khoroshen'kaya suka."

I'm certain whatever he called her in Russian wasn't a compliment.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not a whore," Cass replies. "And if you even insinuate such a thing again to me, I'll show you all that my father taught me. Here's a hint—it's not a shitty language."

"What are your names?" I ask, turning my back to Cass as if I couldn't care less that she's there.

"I'm Lev," Eyebrows says. "And this is Ony," he says, referring to Nose Hair.

I hold out my palm to shake each of their hands. "I bet you have a lot of great stories about my grandfather you could tell me."

"So many stories," Lev assures me. "Yuri was a force to be reckoned with. We can't help but wonder if he passed that trait on to you as well."

"Me? I'm a nobody," I tell them truthfully. "Just a kid born to a struggling single mother. We scraped by and earned everything we ever had, which is how it should be."

They say something in Russian to each other that I take to mean they agree. I figure that their generation would respect those who claw their way up rather than have shit handed to them, like spoiled little rich girls.

"You should come back tomorrow night for our poker tournament. Men only," Ony tells me while giving a pointed look at Cass. "Unless you want to be our entertainment, Red?"

I don't even have time to even think about how Cass would react to his comment. She moves so fast, she's a blur, getting off her stool, stepping in front of me to grab and twist the right wrists of both men at the same time so there's an echo of the loud snap.

Fuck, that had to hurt.

Our guards are instantly at attention, moving in close, hands on the butt of their guns, ready to back her up.

"Guess you won't be able to enjoy any personal entertainment for a while," Cass says to them. "Good luck finding someone else who wants to touch your shriveled old cocks for you."

It takes every ounce of strength to keep from laughing at the men. Their faces are the brightest red under the sun, angry, embarrassed, and in severe pain, but neither make a sound more than a grunt.

"We should probably head out," I suggest, getting between her and the assholes before they try to retaliate out of anger. "You made a mistake in insulting and then underestimating her, gentlemen. You would be smart to not let it happen again."

Before we make our way out of the bar where all eyes are now on us, a young blonde woman comes out from the back and speaks to the men in Russian as she calls over others to drag them away.

"Sorry about that," she says to me once they disappear, her palms smoothing the skirt of her black hip-hugging dress. "Those old fools like to run their mouths and get pissed when someone fights back. I'm Inessa, the assistant manager. I help run things here. You must be Cole."

"Ah, yeah. How does everyone know who I am?" I ask her.

"There were pictures of you."

"Pictures?"

"In the papers and online from a wedding. Everyone has been curious about the mysterious grandson that has been talked about for nearly a year. We were wondering where you were. No social media accounts?"

"No, not for me. I don't need my mother tracking my every move when I'm away at college."

Her blonde brows lift. "So, you're a college boy? "

"About to start my senior year in the fall working toward a business administration degree."

"Very impressive."

"Not really," Cass mutters from behind me. I hear the stool squeak as she climbs back on it, so I retake my seat as well.

"And you are?" Inessa asks once I'm no longer blocking Cass from view.

"Cassandra Salvato," I say in introduction. Inessa holds out her palm, but Cass looks at it with disgust.

"She goes by Cass and she's in a bad mood," I say to excuse her rudeness. "Your friends were running their mouths to get a reaction out of her. I don't think it was the reaction they were hoping for."

"I guess not," Inessa agrees with a smirk. "Can I get you another beer? Something to eat?"

"Oh, no. I'm fine, thanks. Cass?" I glance over my shoulder to ask. Her glare is the only answer she gives me before she takes another small swig from her mostly full glass of beer.

"I think we're both all set for now," I inform Inessa.

Smiling, she says, "Well, it was nice to meet you, Cole. If you need anything, just ask."

"Oh, hey, Inessa," I call out when she begins to walk away. "What time is the poker tournament tomorrow?"

Turning back around, she says, "It starts at midnight in an attempt to see who gets the most drunk so the others can take all their money. Are you thinking about attending?"

"Maybe. Do you play?"

She shakes her head of long, straight light blonde hair that's similar enough to my mother's that I know I could never, ever fuck her. That's probably why I've always preferred brunettes. Or feisty redheads. "No. Men only. And I'm not a gambler."

"So, you just run things around here?" I ask. Flirting with her will be easy, even if it won't lead to anything else.

"Yes. I took over things for Anton Kozlov. You may have heard of him. "

Grinding my teeth together, I tell her the truth. "I heard of what he had his men do to my mother."

It sounds like she curses in Russian.

"What was that?"

"Sorry. I said that he brought shame on our name, and I'm glad he is dead. He is dead, isn't he? Nobody has seen him in nearly a year. There were rumors that Dante Salvato's torturer Eligor tore him apart, limb from limb."

"Probably something like that," I agree, even though I don't know for sure.

"Your mother did not teach you Russian?"

"Why does everyone seem so surprised about that? I had no clue she spoke any language but English."

"These men here prefer to speak it in business dealings. They like being able to keep secrets, to have the upper hand on their opponents and rivals."

"Right, well, I guess I fall into one of those categories now."

"No, you are family."

I barely hold in my cringe at that disgusting thought. I don't want to be a blood relative to a murderous bastard. The fact that these people think that being related to Petrov is something to be proud of is disturbing.

I'm proud to be my mother's son. She raised me to do what's right, to appreciate everything I have, and that being rich isn't worth sacrificing your soul since that's the asking price in this world. I don't see stealing from the undeserving as wrong, not when I only keep what I need to get by and give the rest to help others who weren't born with a silver spoon in their mouths. Or the ones like my mother who walked away from the silver spoon because she knew there was blood dripping from it and always would be.

"So, will I see you tomorrow night at the tournament?" Inessa asks, making me realize I was lost in my thoughts for too damn long.

"Ah, yeah, maybe. Lev and Ony invited me. Or they did before their wrists got injured. "

"I'm sure they would still want you there." Smiling she adds, "They think you are young and green, making you an easy target."

"Then they don't know shit about me," I assure her.

"Oh god, I'm going to barf," Cass murmurs from behind me. "Can we please leave now?"

"Nice meeting you," I say to Inessa as I get to my feet. "See you again soon."

"Soon," she agrees with a sweep of her eyes down my body, the look full of interest. "And I would be more than happy to teach you our mother tongue."

"Ew," Cass scoffs as she heads out the door in a hurry, her guards behind her.

As soon as I follow her outside, she turns to me and says, "Jesus, Cole. I thought you were going to fall to your knees and eat her pussy right there in the middle of the bar."

"I was just being nice," I tell her truthfully as we both start to the SUV. "You should try it sometime. Haven't you ever heard the saying that you catch more flies with honey than vinegar?"

Cass stops walking when we're halfway to the SUV and holds up her palm toward me. "Seriously, stop talking about nasty shit before I throw up all over your shoes." When she clutches her stomach and swallows hard, I realize she's not being sarcastic.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. That place, those people just made me feel ill," she grumbles. Then softer, "Do you think they could've poisoned my beer?"

"You're the one who poured the bottle into the glass," I remind her.

"Yeah, after the bartender opened it."

"Shit!" I turn back to the bar, then to the SUV. "Should we go to the hospital and get you checked you out?"

"No, I'm fine. I'm just ready to go home."

"If they poisoned you..."

Shaking her head, she says, "I doubt that they poisoned me. They know my father would blow the place up with them inside of it if they did something so stupid."

"Desperate people do stupid things."

"Why would they be desperate?" she asks.

"Because when Dante took over, most of them either lost their livelihood or had most of their earnings from illegal shit ripped away. Nobody likes losing money."

"Well, they can go to hell for all I care." She turns and starts walking slowly the rest of the way to the SUV. One of her guards hurries around to open the back passenger door for her, even though two guards have to squeeze into the back first. Wonder if he's trying to get in her panties too?

"Seriously, Cass," I say to her as I climb into the vehicle and sit in the second row next to her. "When we're in these places, pretending to like them could help us worm our way inside their tight-knit group. Don't you want to find out if they sent drones after your sister?"

"God, could everyone please just get over it? A few flying robots took aim at Sophie. So what? She survived. She's fine."

"You've obviously never been through anything traumatic in your life."

"Like you have?" she asks as we finally pull out of the parking lot heading back to the casino.

"Other than surviving poverty, being bullied by rich, entitled brats, and surviving the casino bombing that killed twenty-two people and injured dozens of others, no, I haven't been through shit."

"Sorry," she says quietly. "I forgot about the bombing. You weren't hurt."

"Trust me, even if you walk away from a disaster unharmed, you still have to deal with the fact you could've been killed, but you lived when others weren't so lucky," I tell her. "Do you have any idea how close your dad and my friends and I were to being in that room when it exploded? We were within feet of it. And if there had been a poker table available for us, we would've been sitting down when the bomb went off. So how about you talk to me about how survivors of shit like that should feel after you've been through it yourself?"

For the life of me, I can't tell if it's what I said or if she just couldn't hold it in anymore, but at that exact moment, Cass bends at the waist and pukes all over the floorboard of the SUV, including my shoes.