Chapter 2 - The Wolf of Atlantic City
The private elevator opened onto the thirty-second floor.
I expected luxury.
Instead, I found soldiers.
Six men stood throughout the penthouse.
Black suits.
Quiet voices.
Hard faces.
Most had visible tattoos across their hands, wrists, or necks.
Nobody smiled.
At the center of the room stood a man I recognized immediately.
Luca Vescari.
He was taller than photographs made him look.
Black dress shirt.
Sleeves rolled to his forearms.
A dark tattoo wrapped around his left forearm and disappeared beneath the fabric. Ink covered several fingers on his right hand.
But I barely looked at him.
Because Jamie was sitting at Luca Vescari's dining table.
Eating ice cream.
“Jamie!”
He turned.
“Mom!”
I ran across the room.
I grabbed him.
Checked his face.
His arms.
His legs.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Did anyone touch you?”
Jamie pointed toward Luca.
“He gave me ice cream.”
I looked at the mafia boss.
“You took my son?”
Luca's expression didn't move.
“No.”
“Then how did he get here?”
“He took my elevator.”
Jamie interrupted.
“The doors opened.”
I stared at him.
“You got into a strange elevator?”
“I thought it went downstairs.”
“You know better.”
“I pressed the button with the crown.”
Luca almost smiled.
Almost.
I turned back toward him.
“Why didn't you call security?”
“I did.”
“Then why wasn't he brought to me?”
“Because nobody knew he belonged to you.”
Jamie licked chocolate from his spoon.
“I told him.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course he had.
Luca walked toward us.
Up close, he was intimidating in a way photographs couldn't capture.
Not because he looked angry.
Because he didn't need to.
“Your son told me his mother works downstairs,” he said.
“He also told me you're afraid of losing your job.”
My stomach dropped.
“Jamie.”
“What?”
“You don't tell strangers our business.”
Luca glanced at him.
“He tells strangers quite a lot.”
Jamie nodded.
“I told him about the landlord too.”
“Jamie.”
“And the car.”
“Please stop talking.”
“And pancakes.”
Luca's mouth moved again.
That almost-smile.
Then the penthouse door opened.
Derek rushed inside.
His face was pale.
“Mr. Vescari, I apologize. I had no idea she brought a child onto the property.”
I stood.
“Derek—”
He pointed at me.
“You're fired.”
Jamie stopped eating.
Luca looked at Derek.
The room became silent.
Derek swallowed.
“I mean, obviously, she violated employee policy.”
Luca's voice was calm.
“Who authorized you to fire her?”
Derek blinked.
“I manage housekeeping.”
“I asked who authorized you.”
“No one, sir.”
“Then don't make decisions in my home.”
Derek's face reddened.
“Yes, sir.”
Luca turned toward me.
“How long have you worked here?”
“Eleven months.”
“How many shifts have you missed?”
Derek answered.
“Six.”
I looked at him.
“Three.”
He frowned.
“What?”
“Three. My husband died in February. I missed two shifts for his funeral and one when Jamie had pneumonia.”
Luca's eyes shifted toward Derek.
“You counted funeral leave?”
Derek said nothing.
Luca walked toward him.
“You threatened to fire a widow because she attended her husband's funeral?”
“It wasn't like that.”
“What was it like?”
Derek opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
Jamie whispered loudly:
“I don't like him.”
Someone near the window coughed to hide a laugh.
Derek's face went crimson.
Then Luca's phone rang.
He checked the screen.
Everything about him changed.
“Take the boy into the kitchen.”
I grabbed Jamie.
“We're leaving.”
“No.”
Luca's voice stopped me.
I turned.
“Excuse me?”
His eyes were no longer on me.
They were on the security monitors.
“Not yet.”
One screen showed the hotel garage.
Three black SUVs had entered.
Luca stared at them.
One of his men stepped closer.
“Those aren't ours.”
Another reached beneath his jacket.
Luca raised one hand.
“Not in front of the child.”
The man's hand immediately dropped.
I pulled Jamie closer.
“What is happening?”
Luca looked at me.
“Someone just entered my hotel who shouldn't be here.”
I gave a humorless laugh.
“That makes two of us.”
This time, Luca actually smiled.
For approximately one second.
May you like
Then the lights went out.
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