Chapter 120

Nico

Dario eventually gets out of the vehicle. Our guards immediately flank us as we walk up the long, stone walkway to the steps of the casino. A few people stop and stare, my face is easily recognizable. You don’t get to be a Mafia Don and not be known.

A fella comes towards me with his hand outstretched, to be fended off by my guards. “No touching,” one of them says.

“Hey, I just wanted to shake hands with Mr. Santangelo and tell him it’s an honor to play at his casino.” He’s a tall, lean guy with a shifty face. My gut instinct tells me there is something off about him and this situation. Nobody ever tries to touch me. It’s an unwritten and unspoken code that unless invited or I instigate the first move, I am never to be touched. Dario whispers in my ear.

“What’s that all about. He looks shady to me.”

“Fuck if I know, let’s go and get inside.” I stride forward as my guards remain either side of me with Dario behind. One of the guys from my casino is already on it and behind Dario to protect him. Whereas he doesn’t get his face strewn across the media as much as I do, he is still a target.

“You’ll be sorry for that, Nico Santangelo,” I hear the man call out. I stop and turn then flick him the finger.

He spits on the ground and moves his jacket to the side on his right-hand side, where I spot his holster and a gun. “Gun,” I say in a low controlled voice to my guard on my right. He swings around and without hesitating brings his own gun up and points it at the fucking skinny asshole. Enemies everywhere but right outside my casino. Man, that ain’t happenin’.

“Get him the fuck off my property,” I tell my guards as I turn back and stride more purposefully into my casino.

The gold framed, smoked glass doors whoosh open, the facial recognition in place before I can enter my own building. We have elaborate iron gates the other side of the sliding wall to wall doors at the entrance. On which is a facial recognition pad. Even our guests who want to gain entry have to go through this. Especially them. Our security is one of the best systems in the world. It costs a fortune but worth every penny. At least I know when I am in here that I am safe.

We ensure that our guests pay up front for entry into the club, this way we can also control the numbers of bodies inside at any given time. When they book, we stipulate they provide us with formal i.d. that is coded into our system by my tech team. When they arrive, they have to present the exact same i.d. to the guards on the door if they pass facial recognition.

Inside, the cool air hits me, we have it running cool all the time. We achieve this by maximizing natural ventilation, utilizing ceiling fans, and employing evaporative cooling techniques. It is more sustainable, and since I pride myself on having an eco-friendly outfit, that means no a.c.

The amber marble floors are polished; the slot machines are already occupied with not one free in sight. It’s a good sign for business. The tables are maxed and my staff raise their eyes and greet me with a smile then go back to the patrons. I merely nod and make my way through the central, red carpeted area to the back where I have a private iron clad door that leads me to the stairs to my office.

The guards by the door step aside as I punch in my security number, Dario stays close by. “It’s busy,” he says.

“Always,” I reply tersely still pissed off by the asshole outside. I know by now my guys will have handled the situation. What does that even mean? One: they’ve either punched him several times and knocked the holy wind out of him. Two: They have dragged him away and stuck a knife in him not enough to kill him, but just enough to let him know you don’t fuck with the Santangelo family. Three: a good beating and the knife, if he puts up a fight, well…..

From my office I can see across the entire floor space of my casino. Seeing the people enjoying themselves and spending their money like idiots gives me great pleasure. Why they are so willing to gamble is beyond me, hey I’m not complaining this casino makes me several million a year. We were into seventy-five mill last year alone. No brainer to keep the joint open. Plus, it gives me access to plenty of cash and I can launder money through the business. No brainer!

My office is dark and somber with a black desk and an office chair only. Chrome accessories and a flat screen television. No computers. I like to watch a bit of baseball or NHL on the television to relax. It doesn’t happen often as there is always a problem on the floor. These suckers think that because they’ve paid plenty of their cash to get in and spend a lot they are owed something.

Trust me, they play up, they drink too much then they are kicked out as if they were your average Joe on the street, and banned for life. They go on a blacklist. To-date, I’ve only had to do it a few times with some hot shot celebrity who thought he could own the joint. Dumb motherfucker even tried to get a meeting with me to buy me out.

The office door opens just as Dario takes a seat on the black leather sofa by the wall. “Tony,” I say as he enters purposefully into the office, nods at Dario and sits next to him.

“Petrov and his boys are making a fuss in New York, Nico. It’s not good, not good at all. A couple of our collectors have been beaten to within an inch of their lives and the money taken. We’ve also had a raid on one of the smaller casinos by the cops.”

Tony sits back, crossing one leg over the other his knee at a right angle. Dario glances between Tony and I. “Those mother fucking cunts,” he says angrily.

“What have we got in place, Tony?”

He sighs and rakes his hand through his dark hair. “I have tails on the guys involved. You want us to take them in and scare the shit out of them or offer them more than Petrov is paying them and turn them?”

I sit at my desk, drumming my fingers of my right hand on the desk. “Risky to turn them, we can’t be sure they won’t double cross, brother.”

“I would knife them,” Dario says to which I raise my eyebrows.

“And where is that going to get us, Dario? Into a turf war with blood spilled and innocent people killed. You need to use your brain not your emotions.” And this is exactly why my younger brother is not ready yet to get in on the action. He has much to learn. There is a fire in his gut, that I can sense and he is territorial and naturally protective of our family. However, going straight in with violence is not something we do. Anymore.

“This isn’t the 1940’s, Dario where everything was guns blazing and killing. We like to be more civilized in this era. We have codes of conduct, we have syndicates. If we resort instantly with violence we will be frowned upon by the other syndicate members.”

Silence floors the room. Tony leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You want to call a meeting with the members?”

I continue to drum my fingers on the desk. “Not yet. First, I want you to follow these guys to where they are taking the money. I know for a fact they won’t take it straight to Petrov. By the way I don’t suppose we know where the fucker is hiding out do we?” The man is a snake in the grass, sneaking around never to be found. He was last in Tokyo doing business with the Yakuza so we need to tread carefully.

“No idea, we are still trying to locate him,” Tony says.

“For now, follow his minions they will lead us to the where the money is being taken.” Tony nods. “Then I want all my money back and you do as you will except killing, to the fucking cunts who stole from me and my guys.”

“And what about our guys that have been hurt?” Darios butts in.

“They will be taken care of. Tony, get them the best medical care you can and double up on our security at the casinos and hotels. Anyone transferring cash that needs laundering has to have four guards on them.”

Tony lets out a slow whistle. “That’s a lot of resources, Nico. We will need more men.”

Leaning forward on my desk I give him a defiant look. “Don’t state the obvious, just do it!” I pause.

“And whilst you are on that, set me up a meeting with Yashimoto-san. Let’s see if we can get some of his guys on our side.” If there is going to be blood to be shed, then I want full support of the Japanese.

A general always prepares for war!