The Santangelos (44 page)

Sam was her future, and she was with him all the way.

*   *   *

The lights of Vegas glittered in the distance.

“This,” Bobby said, staring straight ahead, “is why I always prefer driving to Vegas. Gotta love the view.”

“I get it,” M.J. said, nodding his agreement. “From a freakin’ barren desert straight into the mouth of the neon city. Can’t beat it.”

“The first time I saw Vegas at night, I was a kid asleep in the back of my mom’s Ferrari,” Bobby reminisced. “Lucky pulled over to the side of the road and woke me up. ‘Take a look, kiddo. It’s a sight you’ll never forget,’ she told me. And yeah—she was so right.”

“Lucky’s the greatest,” M.J. enthused. “She never changes. She’s always on top of everything, always relevant.”

“Don’t I know it,” Bobby responded.

“Guess she’s gonna miss Gino big-time.”

“That goes for everyone,” Bobby said, once more thinking about Gino’s murder, and the son of a bitch who’d raised his gun and blown Gino away.

He would track the bastard down with or without Lucky. It was a given.

CHAPTER SIXTY-NINE

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Alex Woods said accusingly, standing up as Lucky approached his table.

“Avoiding you how?” she asked, plucking a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray.

“Ever since Gino’s murder, I haven’t been able to reach you.”

“It’s nothing personal,” she said quietly. “I’ve hardly spoken to anyone.”

“I’m not just anyone,” Alex said gruffly, remembering the one time they’d been together when Lennie was missing and she’d thought her husband was dead. It was a memory he could never erase.

“I know,” she said softly. “I did receive your flowers and your messages. Much appreciated.”

“C’mon, Lucky,” he said, fixing her with a penetrating look. “It’s me, Alex. We’ve shared too much in the past for you to shut me out when I know you need me.”

“I
need
you to be my friend,” she said, wishing he’d let it go. “Nothing else.”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause you’ve got Lennie,” Alex said with a resentful scowl. “It’s always about Lennie.”

“Could be because he’s my husband,” she answered coolly.

“Anyway,” Alex said, giving her another long meaningful look. “How’re you really doing? Help me out here, ’cause I’m one of the few who care enough to hear the truth.”

“I’m getting through it,” she said, meeting his intent gaze. “Staying strong. It’s what Gino would’ve expected of me.”

“Gino couldn’t’ve loved you more.”

“It took him a while to tell me, but yes, I do know that.”

“Gino was quite the guy. He was a man’s man.”

“So tell me about you,” she said, quickly moving on. “Still working your ass off?”

“Making movies isn’t work, it’s my passion.”

She wondered if she should share her idea to incorporate a movie studio into the new complex. Then she decided this wasn’t the appropriate moment. Besides, Lennie might not be thrilled if she involved Alex in any way. Lennie claimed he wasn’t jealous, but she suspected he was.

“Isn’t it time you thought about settling down and marrying one of your girlfriends?” she suggested.

“Like Ling?” Alex said sarcastically. “You gotta remember Ling. She was that insane bitch who attempted to shoot you.”

“I was kind of thinking of someone a little more together,” Lucky said, indicating the exquisite Asian girl sitting at the table patiently waiting for Alex to return to her side. “This one looks to be a likely candidate.”

“I think not,” Alex said, vigorously shaking his head.

“How come?”

“Maybe ’cause she’s the biggest porn star in Asia,” he said, cracking a sly smile. “They call her the Asian Open.”

Lucky started to laugh. Only Alex could make her laugh at a time like this.

*   *   *

“I still don’t understand why we can’t fly to Vegas,” Max muttered to Dante as they made their way to Club Luna’s underground garage in Alejandro’s private elevator.

“I told you,” Dante answered, tightly gripping her arm. “It’s possible we do business with Alejandro. He is about to make an important movie, and we might partner up for a big advertising campaign. Besides, he wishes to drive his new car.”

“I thought you told me he had a driver?” Max said, pulling her arm away.

“He does. Tonight he chooses to drive himself.”

“He’s been drinking,” Max stated, wishing she was somewhere else and not caught up in this predicament.

“Stop being such a baby,” Dante admonished. “When we were roommates in college we drove to Vegas every weekend stoned out of our heads. Alejandro can do the drive with his eyes closed.”

“Awesome,” Max said in a low voice, shooting Willow a wary look. She’d already decided that the redhead wasn’t the most friendly of girls, although it was obvious that Willow considered herself a star. A couple of years back, Max remembered seeing her in a movie with Billy. She couldn’t help wondering if they’d slept together.

Had Billy climbed into bed with the slender actress?

Had he made love to her?

Willow was pretty enough in a Hollywood starlet kind of way, and she was definitely into flaunting her assets—nipples on display under a floaty top, her ass barely covered by an ultrashort leather skirt.

Max attempted a couple of friendly overtures. Willow immediately shut her down with a blank stare.

Great,
Max thought.
Stuck in a car with this piece of work for the next few hours. Fun times
.

She swallowed hard, suppressing a desire to make a run for it, to just take off and find her own way to Vegas.

But how could she? Getting there was of prime importance, and right now sticking with the group seemed like her only option.

She took out her phone and texted Cookie again.
On our way. Driving. Don’t wait up. Breakfast in the a.m. Can’t wait to catch up
.

*   *   *

Extracting herself from Alex’s lustful gaze, Lucky made it over to the family table, where Steven was talking to Brigette and her Swedish girlfriend. Since changing tracks and moving to Sweden, Brigette seemed much happier. She’d had a difficult life, always hooking up with losers who’d treated her badly, even marrying one of them. She’d once had a successful modeling career, which she’d given up. Now she painted, wrote poetry, and lived a simple life—even though as Dimitri Stanislopoulos’s granddaughter, like Bobby, she was heir to a great fortune.

Lucky gave her a hug and told her that Bobby was on his way.

“Uncle Bobby,” Brigette said, with a big smile. It was their private joke that even though Bobby was much younger than she was, as Dimitri’s son, he was indeed her uncle. “I’m dying to see him. It’s been a while.”

“He recently broke up with his girlfriend,” Lucky said, lowering her voice. “So do me a favor and watch out for Venus. She’s always had a thing for Bobby, and I don’t want her pouncing on him.”

“Of course, Madame Lucky,” Brigette said, mock-saluting. “I will be happy to act as the Bobby police.”

Steven got to his feet. “Don’t know about everyone else, but I’m going to bed,” he announced. “Gotta think about what I’m going to say tomorrow.”

“I wish I could take off,” Lucky said wistfully, thinking how much she couldn’t wait to collapse into bed.

“You can,” Lennie said, coming up behind her. “Tomorrow’s the big day, so you should go get a good night’s sleep. I’ll take care of everyone.”

“You’re the best,” she said gratefully. “Bobby should be here any minute and Max is on her way.”

“No worries. I’m around for them. You go, sweetheart. I’ll catch up with you later.”

*   *   *

With Alejandro on his way out of town—even if it was only overnight—Rafael imagined he was the boss for once as he sat in Alejandro’s reserved booth at Club Luna, drinking champagne while contemplating his future.

Things were working out nicely. At first Alejandro had insisted that he go to Vegas to pick up the cash Pablo had arranged. Then things had changed when a friend of Alejandro’s arrived in town, and Alejandro had decided to take his new Bentley and drive to Vegas himself.

This suited Rafael, as he continued to work on his exit strategy. Pablo Fernandez Diego was about to deposit several million dollars into a bank account, giving Rafael full control. Pablo trusted him.

How nice. How dumb. Because Rafael had been busy making his own arrangements. Over the past few days he’d gotten a new passport in a different name. He’d opened an untraceable bank account in the Cayman Islands, where he would transfer the money, and he’d booked a one-way ticket to Perth, Australia—a place so far away that Pablo would never think of looking for him there. After six or seven months, he would put into action plans to get his son out of Colombia.

Screw the Diego family. For once he was looking out for himself.

King Emir’s orders were sharp and concise.

“The family leaves in the early morning,” he informed Faisal, his trusted consort.

“I will make sure everything is in place,” Faisal assured him.

“They have to all be gone before the … event.”

“The plane is waiting,” Faisal said. “What about Tariq? Does he go with the family or does he stay with you?”

“Tariq stays. Tariq will become a man as he helps to avenge his father’s death. When it is done, we will leave immediately.”

“Yes, my king.”

“Now I wish to give an audience to my loyal citizens who have waited many months for this very special time. My two brave warriors.”

“I will bring them to you.”

King Emir sighed. “Soon it shall be over. It is God’s will. Tomorrow the infidels will die, and my dear son shall finally be avenged.”

CHAPTER SEVENTY

“This motherfucker goes from zero to sixty in 4.3 seconds,” Alejandro boasted, standing next to his latest purchase—a gleaming custom-made purple Bentley Flying Spur W12 Mulliner, with special wheels and a one-of-a-kind purple leather interior featuring expensive gold trim. “I can take it up to two hundred miles per hour anytime I feel the urge.”

“Really? And where would that be? On a racetrack?” Willow drawled, not thrilled that he’d purchased such an expensive car and hadn’t even mentioned it to her. Surely if he had money to throw around, he should’ve thrown some in her direction?

She was more than irritated. Of
course
he had money to throw around. His stupid club was a front for drugs, so he was probably rolling in cash. Yet he was stalling on giving her a million measly bucks—an amount that meant nothing to him.

What Willow didn’t know was that Pablo kept strict control over what money came Alejandro’s way. Pablo had people who handled all his finances, and he’d instructed Rafael to watch over whatever money Alejandro was able to get his hands on. His son received a generous allowance, and that was it. The new car was a birthday present.

Willow had questions. Was Alejandro serious about producing a movie? Or was he simply stringing her along?

Vegas would answer those questions. He’d assured her he was picking up a shitload of cash there. Finally, she could give Eddie his money, and then he would immediately get their project going.

“I like this car,” Dante rasped. “I should buy one.”

“Get in line,” Alejandro said. “Took me eight months to get mine. Everything custom. One of a kind.”

“I have many connections,” Dante said with a dictatorial smirk. “I can probably get one quicker.”

“I doubt it,” Alejandro snapped.

In college, he and Dante—although supposedly friends—had always been in vicious competition with each other. Who drove the fastest car? Who banged the prettiest girls? Who threw the wildest, most out-of-control parties?

They both had rich daddies to finance their lifestyles, so money had never been a problem.

Now, as adults, nothing had changed. Dante was determined to screw Alejandro’s redheaded girlfriend simply because he knew he could. She had that available look of a girl who’d do anything if it suited her purpose.

While Alejandro had plans to hit on Max—even though she was not his type, why not try something new?

“Get in,” Alejandro ordered. “Girls in the back. Dante, you ride up front with me.”

“Why should I sit in the back?” Willow complained. “I get carsick on long rides. I want to be up front with you.”

Alejandro tossed her a look—a look that screamed,
Shut the fuck up and do what I tell you
.

Willow sighed and did as he said.

Sometimes it wasn’t worth arguing with Alejandro. Not when they were so close to picking up the money.

*   *   *

Walking into an outpouring of unwanted attention was not what Bobby wanted or expected. Apparently his recent arrest and following vindication had not gone unnoticed. He wasn’t used to this much attention; usually he preferred to keep it low-key. Today was different, though. Today congratulations that he was a free man with no stigma attached to his name seemed to be the topic of the night.

Yeah,
he thought bitterly,
no stigma indeed. The whole Chicago debacle is all over the Internet. It’ll never go away
.

After doing the rounds of greeting people, he sought out Lennie and asked where Lucky was.

“Gone to bed,” Lennie replied. “It’s the big day tomorrow, and she needs to get as much sleep as she can.”

“And Max?”

“On her way.”

Bobby nodded, and moved over to the table where Brigette and her girlfriend were sitting.

“Hiya,
uncle
,” Brigette said with an artful grin. “I hear you’ve been knee deep in big bad trouble.”

“Everything’s cool,” Bobby said. “And do me a favor: stop calling me uncle. Makes me feel ancient.”

“It’s not
my
fault Granddad knocked your mom up,” Brigette teased. “You
are
my uncle.”

“Jeez, Brig, you make it sound so tawdry. Let me remind you that Dimitri and Lucky were
married
. It was a legit relationship.”