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What the hell is so funny?

I ignore the itch to storm in there and tell her to keep it the fuck down. Or maybe get closer, see what’s so goddamn funny. But no, it’s not worth it. Getting caught hovering like some creep is a hard pass. Instead, I turn and head toward my office, shoving her out of my head where she doesn’t belong. I’ve got more important shit to deal with.

Inside, the scent of leather and whiskey grounds me. I shut the door behind me, shutting her laughter out with it.

Kota and Nathan are waiting, sitting across from my sleek glass desk. Nathan’s quiet, as usual, but there’s something in his posture, like they’ve got news, and it’s not the kind I’ll like. Not that I ever do.

Nathan stands and walks to the bar cart, pouring three drinks even though it’s barely after noon. But fuck it, between the firecracker cackling in my living room and whatever fucked-up news they’re about to hit me with, I already know I’m gonna need the damn drink.

He sets mine down in front of me. I grab it, swirl the amber liquid once, then knock it back in one go.

The burn doesn’t do shit to calm me. I slam the glass down on the desk, and Nathan refills it without a word.

Their faces say it all, something’s up. I glance between them, my patience wearing thin. They know better than to make me wait.

“Kota,” I say, my voice eerily calm but with the edge they’ve learned not to fucking test, “what’s the update?”

Kota sits up, placing a laptop in front of me. “We pulled the footage fromDemoni. Chris and the girl were heading toward Cooper, our surveillance officer. But before they reached him, our guys stepped in. Cooper walked away, slipped out the back, and got into an unmarked car.”

He clicks a button, and the footage plays. “There’s more,” he adds, rubbing a hand down his face. “Check this—when Chris enters the casino, there’s a time lapse. Someone’s fucking with our system.”

I nod slowly, my fingers tapping the desk once before curling into a fist. So, Cooper thinks he can stroll into my casino, screw with my cameras, and I won’t notice?

“Cocky bastard,” I mutter, rolling my shoulders, trying to ease the tension creeping in.

I exhale through my nose, meeting Kota’s gaze. “Here’s what happens next. You and Nathan are going to find him. I don’t give a fuck how. When you do, bring him to me. And make sure he knows exactly why this is happening. He walked into my casino. He fucked with my business. Now he pays.”

Kota and Nathan exchange a look before nodding. They already know the drill.

I push back from my desk, rounding it to stand in front of them. “Cooper doesn’t get to know we’re onto him. Let him feel safe right up until we grab him. I want him to feel it, every second of it. But not yet.”

Kota tilts his chin in understanding.

The urge to punch the wall is tempting, but I swallow it down, losing my cool won’t fix a damn thing. I exhale, forcing myself to keep my shit together.

I pace toward the window, glancing out at my estate. Everything here is mine. Every piece and every inch, because I worked my ass off for everything I have. I’ll bedamned if I let anyone threaten that. Not Chris, not Olivia, not anyone.

Turning back, I speak with a sick satisfaction at the thought of making his last moment alive a living fucking hell. “When you bring him in, I want him alive. We’re going to make an example out of him.”

Kota and Nathan nod, already moving before I finish talking.

As the door clicks shut behind them, I stay rooted in place, hands balling into fists in my pockets. The silence should be calming, but all I can think about is how this stupid fucker has no idea what’s coming.

By the time I’m done with him, he’ll wish he’d never crossed me.

17

Liv

Paola plops the tablet in front of me just as I finish my last bite of breakfast. I stare at the screen, eyes wide as she scrolls through designer stores I’ve only heard about.

“You need all this,” she chirps, tapping on a pair of Louboutin heels like it’s nothing. “Trust me, Alessio wants you to have whatever you need.”

I nearly choke on my coffee.Need? “Pretty sure I don’t need five-inch stilettos, Paola.”

She grins. “Trust me, if he’s footing the bill, you won’t even make a dent in his wallet.”

That does not make me feel better. But the gleam in her eye tells me she’s having too much fun with this. I narrow my eyes. “You sure you don’t have a shopping problem?”