Page 10 of Hidden Ties
“Is that a joke?”
“No.” His icy gaze went back to his son’s. “Why?”
“For you to even question Sal’s capabilities is offensive.” His friend and boss continued speaking on his behalf. “You know exactly who he is.”
While Sal appreciated the vouch of confidence, he did understand why Dante would ask, ’cause like his cigars, he was … old. And the older generation just didn’t understand computers.
“It’s fine,” Sal said, taking no offense. “I assure you that you have nothing to worry about. No one can crack through the Casino Hotel’s firewalls unless it was me on the other side.”
“Are we done here?” Lucca asked, clearly ready to wrap this up. But, as if on cue, a knock on the office door had them all turning their heads toward it.
“Come in,” Dante bellowed, ignoring his son’s cold glare as he continued making himself right back at home.
Kent Bryant walked through the door, spoiling Sal’s good humor.
He had a healthy distrust in Kent. Lucca and Dante would use Kent’s services when they needed legal expertise that other lawyers refused in fear of getting disbarred. Not to mention, Sal also had his own personal reasons for disliking him and was holding a grudge.
“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“You’re not interrupting. Come in, Kent. What are you doing here so early in the morning?” Dante’s cold gaze slashed toLucca’s again as he tapped his ashes forcibly in an ashtray. “Someone suing us that Lucca hasn’t yet told me about?”
Sal watched the battle between father and son brew all over again. To be fair, Dante’s glare was more formidable. He had years of practicing it before Lucca had stepped into his shoes. That was where the OG generation prevailed over the new generation. They were some classy-looking, mean motherfuckers.
Lucca, however, was just a mean motherfucker.
“No, I spent the night here in the casino, enjoying myself at blackjack, and thought I would mix some pleasure with business before I get changed and go to work. I’ve lost my ass at your table, and if there were any legal advice you needed”—a cunning smile was pasted on the lawyer’s lips—“I can write the loss off as a tax deduction.”
“We’re good,” Lucca answered before Dante could.
Kent’s disappointment was palpable, but he shrugged it off. “Oh, well, can’t blame a guy for trying.”
Kicking back in the chair, Dante crossed his ankles. “How much you lose?”
“Eh, couple grand or so.”
“Have a cigar,” Dante offered, reaching out to open his cigar box. “Sal, pour Kent a drink.”
While Kent went to the cigar box to take out a cigar, Sal used the distraction to mouth the correct amount at Dante before going to the liquor cabinet. Sal’s wariness of him always had him keeping a close eye on the lawyer’s goings-on here. So, when his eyes landed on his security camera this morning to see Kent gambling at a table, he’d quickly gone through the footage before heading to Lucca’s office.
Taking the open seat next to Dante, Kent sprawled his legs out like the ex-boss’ as he moved the cigar under his nose to appreciatively smell it. “Thanks.”
Dante nodded agreeably. “The least I could do since you actually lost fifteen grand.”
“You’re keeping track?” Kent asked, biting the end of the cigar.
“Sal is.” Dante nodded over to him. “Usually, you’re in the black with us.”
“Bad night.” The lawyer shrugged, taking the lighter Dante offered while Sal set the drinks down on the table between the two men.
Resuming his position against the wall, Sal opened the window wider to let the putrid smell escape for both his and Lucca’s sake. He would change his suit after he left the office and send it out to be dry cleaned.
Kent enjoyed his cigar for a few moments before speaking again. “A couple of the players at the table came over from the Horseshoe. They were saying the Horseshoe was cyber attacked?”
“They were,” Dante confirmed happily.
It was no secret that, over the last year, the Horseshoe had been their biggest competition. They had recently remodeled, and while Dante liked the traditional feel of their historic Casino Hotel, some players enjoyed the next new thing.
The lawyer lifted his glass toward Sal in a mock salute. “I bet they’re wishing they hadThe Great Salvatoreprotecting theirassets.”
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