“Yes. It’s exactly what I want.”
I stood at the edge of the casino, watching the way everything flowed smoothly. The chips constantly tapped in the background, the music played at the perfect volume overhead, and the men possessed orderly conduct while playing for millions. There was nothing that happened in my casino I didn’t know about. My need for control was constant, and if things weren’t done my way, they weren’t done right.
One of the dancers approached me, wearing a gold thong and bra that barely covered anything. I had minimal interaction with the people who worked the floor, even though I knew their names and their backgrounds.
My men moved in front of me, blocking her path toward me. “No one speaks to Bosco.”
She rolled her eyes then looked at me. “I have a complaint.”
The men pressed her back gently, getting her away from me. “There’s a floor manager for that.”
She raised her voice so I could hear her words as she was being pushed away. “It’s that asshole, The Butcher.”
The second I heard his name, I knew I needed to address this personally. “Leave her.”
The men backed off right away and took their positions.
She walked up to me, a foot shorter than me even in her heels. With big hair and lots of makeup, she looked ready for her shift. “Look, I like working here. Money is good, and the security is tight. I’ve never had a problem with any of the sleazebags in here—because they have some manners. But this Butcher guy is a pain in the ass.”
“What did he do?” I was unaffected by her obvious charms since I had a woman at home in my bed right at that very moment. If I wanted a nice pair of tits to stare at, I’d look at Carmen’s.
“He tried to rape one of the girls in the bathroom, for one.” She put both of her hands on her hips, strutting her attitude.
“I gave him a warning for that.”
“He stares—a lot.”
“Theresa.” I used her real name since I knew all of my employees. “Can you blame him?” I cocked my head slightly to the side but kept my gaze on hers. “That’s your job—to give them something to stare at.”
“But it’s not a normal stare,” she argued. “It’s…hostile.”
“Did he threaten you?” I asked seriously. “Did he touch you?”
“No and no,” she said. “But I get a bad feeling about him…”
“You know I take your safety and security very seriously, Theresa. Same goes for everyone else in this casino. I gave him a warning and told him I wouldn’t hesitate to rescind his membership if he bothered you guys again. He seemed to take me seriously.”
“Well, he better have. I’m not letting that asshole touch me.”
“He won’t, Theresa. Now get back to work.”
She gave me a look full of attitude before she strutted off and resumed her post.
When she was gone, I reached in my pocket for a cigar. The Butcher was a thorn in my side, and I needed a way to lower my rage. I’d been running this casino for a decade, and while there were bumps in the road, I’d never had any serious issues. The Butcher seemed different, like there was no telling what he might do. Maybe granting him admission to the casino had been a mistake. Maybe my brother had been right. The second The Butcher stepped out of line, I would throw him out—and not refund his dues.
I was just about to light the cigar when I remembered what Carmen asked me to do. The cigar was sitting in my mouth, the tip wet from my teeth. I put the lighter back in my pocket, sighed, and then tossed the unused cigar in the trash.
Quitting would be harder than I realized.
I didn’t smoke every day, just when I worked in the casino. I never lit up in my home because I didn’t want my penthouse to smell. My addiction had never been so strong that I had to walk outside just to light up. But now that I was denying myself in my natural environment, I felt the kick in my side.
“Wow. Bosco Roth is turning over a new leaf.” Her playful voice came from behind me. In a royal blue dress studded with diamonds, she definitely didn’t look like one of the cage dancers. She was definitely more ambitious than that. She came to my side without objection since my men knew who she was.
“Ruby, how are you?” I hadn’t seen her in a few months.
She was smoking a cigar, the white smoke rising from her nostrils to the ceiling. The diamonds of her dress reflected the light every time she made the slightest movement. She was rich in diamonds—and rich in every other way that mattered. “Concerned. Why did you throw away a perfectly good cigar?”