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Jack of Spades (Vegas Underground 2)

Page 34

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Nico smirks and it’s nice to see a smile on his face. My brother’s been wound tight for as long as I can remember. He definitely seems different now, underneath the bruises.

“Come on, she’s in her office.” He leads me out.

“Ah, she works for you.” Why hadn’t anyone told me that?

“Yes.”

“Yes? That’s it? What does she do?” When he doesn’t go on, I make an impatient tell me more motion.

“Sondra is curating the art wing in the Bellissimo. We can display all those masterpieces we’ve acquired from the whales over the years.”

Huh. Not a bad idea. When big gamblers get desperate, they start putting up all kinds of treasures: keys to their cars, vacation properties, and often the priceless art hanging on their walls. We take anything here and we always collect. Which means we have dozens of paintings by famous artists in our vault.

We get off the elevator and Nico leads me to a wing that had been previously used as additional conference area and I see it’s been transformed into a gallery.

“Very nice,” I murmur, looking around at the beginnings of intricate security systems designed to protect the masterpieces that have not yet been placed. The placards are there, though. Titles, dates, artists, along with docent-like information about each painting.

“Sondra, meet my brother, Stefano.”

I don’t know what to expect. What kind of female would be the first to capture my driven brother’s heart. I guess I painted her in my mind as Corey’s twin—a tall, feisty redhead who doesn’t take shit from anyone but secretly loves a strong man.

When a cute blonde emerges from the director’s office, I realize I was way off. Oh sure, I see the resemblance. They both have the vivid blue eyes. But that’s where the similarity ends.

Corey’s the type who could pull off a Catwoman in black patent leather. Or wield a crop across some trembling businessman’s ass while he licks her thigh-high leather boots.

Sondra’s the girl next door. Petite, soft, blonde. She has dimples, for Gods’ sake! She’s youthful and sweet—probably submissive down to her gentle core.

Nico circles her waist with his arm and kisses her temple. It unnerves me to see my prickly brother so affectionate with someone but in a good way.

I reach for her hand and bring it to my lips.

“Don’t.”

I stop with her hand midway to my mouth. There’s enough danger in my brother’s voice for me to know he’s serious.

So. He’s the jealous kind. Who knew?

I drop it and give Sondra a bow instead. “Piacere di conoscerti.”

Her glance at Nico confirms my suspicion—definitely submissive. Their relationship is so fucking sweet it warms my heart.

“He said nice to meet you. He’s a goddamn show-off.”

“What?” I shrug. “I just came from the old country.”

Nico rolls his eyes.

“Well, I won’t intrude anymore. I just wanted to meet the woman who stole my brother’s heart.”

Sondra blushes, her gaze darting to Nico.

Unbelievable. The girl doesn’t know how lost my brother is to her. Well, maybe he wants it that way: like it’s a bit of a power or control thing. Nico is definitely as alpha as they come. Or maybe he’s just been too busy and now that I’m here, he can show her.

“I’ll see you both around. Or maybe I won’t. I think I’m supposed to be here so you can spend more time together.” I waggle my brows and Nico shakes his head.

“Get out.”

“Leaving,” I call over my shoulder as I walk to the elevator, a grin tugging at my lips.

Chapter 9

Corey

I end up going into work an hour early. Call me crazy, it’s like the Bellissimo is my addiction. Even after a weekend bender, I can’t stay away.

It has nothing to do with not being able to stay away from Stefano Tacone. Nothing at all.

My stomach’s still in a tornado over my dad’s visit. What if Stefano finds out? Should I confess it outright, the way I did about his job?

But no, then it really will seem like I’m a rat. I mean, I swore to him I have no contact with my dad and then suddenly he’s visiting me the minute I get home? It won’t look good for me. Like swimming with the fishes bad.

I walk in through the parking garage entrance and stow my purse in my locker.

“You’re early,” the floor manager, Mac, says.

“Yeah, I can start now, if you want. Otherwise, I’m going to hit the Starbucks before my shift.”

“You’ll do neither. Mr. Tacone said he wanted to see you in his office the minute you got in.”

My heart starts thudding hard. “Which Mr. Tacone?”

“Stefano. The new one.” Mac narrows his eyes at me. “Didn’t he pull you from the floor Saturday to deal a private game or something?”

My hands are clammy. “Uh, yeah.” I look past Mac, wanting to make my escape.

“Well what was it like?” he demands.



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