Wild Card (Vegas Underground 8)

“This is Vlad, my husband,” Alessia says, when a tattooed man in shirtsleeves comes over and takes the baby from her. “And the baby is Lara. Our son Mika is over there.” She points at a teenager who can’t possibly be her real son. She couldn’t have been more than ten when he was born.

Vlad shakes Paolo’s and my hand and studies me with a piercing gaze. A shiver runs through me.

Paolo slides his arm around me and spreads his fingers across my belly, pulling me tightly against him. The message couldn’t be more clear. I’m under his protection.

It feels nice.

Corey and Stefano come over to welcome us, then I’m introduced to Paolo’s other brother, Nico, and his wife Sondra, a pretty blonde who also has a baby on her hip. “This is Nico Jr.,” she tells me, kissing the baby’s cheek.

“What can I get you to drink? A glass of wine? Cocktail?” Alessia offers.

For some reason, the thought of alcohol just turns my stomach. I swear I didn’t have that much to drink last night, but I’ve been queasy all day. “Water would be great,” I tell her.

“You want to put steaks on the grill?” Alessia suggests to Vlad.

Turns out it’s code for all the men to go outside and stand around the grill while the women gather in the kitchen with wine.

Except when Mika gets sent back inside I know they’re talking business out there.

Is it about my dad?

My queasiness kicks in even more. I pick up a cheese square from the hors d’oeuvres tray and pop it in my mouth.

“Did you have fun at the Bellissimo?” Corey asks.

I cringe. Small talk. Awk-ward. And I can’t even pull out Crazy Caitlin to play. I want these women to like me.

What does that mean? Am I really seeing this thing with Paolo as a future?

That seems nuts, and yet… he means something to me.

“I had a great time. I’ve never been to Vegas at all, so Paolo made sure I got a taste of everything.”

Alessia hands me a glass of water with lemon. “Not to freak you out, but Paolo’s never showed up with a woman before. So we’re all kind of fascinated to finally figure out his type.”

“I don’t think Caitlin’s a type. I think she’s an anomaly,” Corey offers. To me she says, “You somehow cracked the Paolo code.”

I tense, thinking she knows I’m a hacker, but I don’t see any signs of it in her face.

“Nico was the same way, though,” Alessia goes on. “No girlfriends and then suddenly—bam—he meets Sondra and knows she’s the one.”

“I-I don’t know if I’m the one,” I stutter in surprise. I try to picture myself here, part of their family, a baby on my hip. I can’t see it.

“Yeah, no pressure. Sorry, I didn’t mean to freak you out. I’m just happy to see Paolo happy.”

I look at Paolo through the sliding glass door. It’s Vegas, so they can stand out there without freezing even though it’s December.

“How can you tell he’s happy?” I ask doubtfully.

She laughs. “Well, connected, I guess. You’re right, it’s hard to tell what Paolo feels about anything. He keeps his cards pretty close to his chest. The way I tell is by his actions. If he brought you here, it’s because you mean something to him.”

I don’t want to believe her. Because the idea of this thing actually working out terrifies me.

"I’ll tell you something else about Paolo. He doesn’t forge many connections. So when he does, they’re powerful. He would do anything for the people he’s decided he cares about. And I mean anything.”

Paolo

Vlad manages the steaks on the grill with his toddler on his hip. She leans into him, playing shy and watching us with big blue eyes. Every now and he speaks to her softly in Russian.

She’s not Alessia’s kid, but my sister couldn’t be happier to be stepmom. Her health wouldn’t have supported a pregnancy, so Lara and Mika—their adopted son—were a godsend.

I still want to beat the shit out of Vlad for kidnapping my sister and taking her to Russia, but I can’t because he’s family now. And I have to admit he’s doing a damn good job making my baby sister happy.

“So you and the hacker. Didn’t see that one coming,” Nico says. “I thought I saw on the news she got picked up by the FBI. How’d she get out of jail?”

My hands curl into fists. “You got a problem with her?”

“I got no problem with her if you don’t. This is your show, Paolo. The only thing I’m concerned about is the Feds connecting the two of you. Because you know they’d pick her up and put the screws to her in a heartbeat.”

A wash of ice-cold rushes through me, even though I’ve already considered this possibility. Still, I don’t like to hear it said out loud, especially not from Nico, who is probably the smartest and most tactical of all the Tacone brothers.