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“The casino is being shut down by the gaming commission.”
My eyes narrow as I dart into the closet and pull on a shirt.
“The fuck are you talking about?”
“They got here ten minutes ago and said we have to shut down because we’re being accused of counting cards and stacking decks, among other things. I need you here, sir.”
“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I hang up and turn to find Rina watching me with a frown.
“What’s going on?”
“Not sure, but I have to go to the resort for a while. Are you good?”
“I spent a shit ton of money and just got railed into the mattress. I’ve never been better.”
Fuck, I love her.
“Great. I’m hoping I won’t be long.”
I lean in to kiss her before I grab a tie, a jacket, and shoes, and head for the door.
“Wait,” she says, and I stop to look back at her. “Are your suits custom?”
I tilt my head. “Of course they are.”
“Here.” She rifles through packages and comes out with a smaller orange box. “I bought you an Hermès tie. It goes with that suit, and it’s the color of your eyes. It’ll make you look even more formidable.”
I blink down at the blue silk and then back at her, then yank her to me and kiss her hard.
“More railing for you later.”
“Yay me.”
Shaking my head, I leave our bedroom and rush down the stairs, my brain already switching over to work mode.
Someone is trying to fuck with my casino, and that’s earned them a one-way ticket to hell as soon as I get my hands on them.
“Resort,” I snap to Leo, who immediately gets in the car as I call Spider.
But when I try to call him, I get a busy signal and the call drops.
The fuck?
I try again, but the same thing happens.
“Call Spider, my phone is fucked up.”
Leo taps the screen, but the same thing happens for him.
I try to call my assistant at the resort, but I get the same result. Did the entire cellular network in Vegas just go down?
When we reach my resort, I run through to my office and find Scott, my assistant, there with two other suits that I don’t fucking recognize.
I know the heads of the gaming commission.
These assholes aren’t them.
