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Antonio is the boss of the Lombardi Mafia family. For generations, my family has worked for them. My grandfather and father were both underbosses. Now, my brother, Damien, holds that position.

To cover their dirty-money trails and show legal wages on paper, the Lombardis started Lucky Kings. For the most part, it’s run as a legit business, but we just also perform illegal dealings through it. Consider it a side gig.

After his father’s death, Antonio gave Damien half the casino. Six months ago, I offered them a business proposal to open a second Lucky Kings location. I told them I’d fund the business and obviously provide them a cut. Being a competitor wasn’t an option. Another business tried that, and people died on both sides.

We blew up all their construction locations.

They killed my family.

Damien and I became the only remaining Bellinis on our family tree.

We buried all the others.

We added one more recently—Damien’s little girl, Alessia.

I can never leave the Mafia world, but I wanted something for myself, something that was mine. I’m not a man who enjoys working with others.

It was a no-brainer for Antonio and Damien, providing them further resources to funnel illegal money and another income source. They accepted the proposal, and I opened Lucky Kings in Atlantic City three weeks ago.

“Carlisle Astor is dead,” I say with no emotion.

“Fuck,” Damien hisses, leaning back in his chair. He scrubs a hand over his forehead.

“I figured his bullshit would catch up to him,” Antonio adds dryly. “When I found out he was doing business with the Russians, I cut ties with him. I had enough problems on my hands.”

I did the same. The man might’ve helped me make so much money that I could retire in the Caribbean, but I don’t trust thieves. I believe if you steal from other people then you’ll eventually steal from me.

Antonio rests his elbows on the table. “What happened?”

“He put a bullet through his own head.” I crack my knuckles and slide an ashtray away from me. “A more peaceful death than what the Russians would’ve provided.”

Though I’d have preferred he suffer their wrath. Instead, he left that nightmare to his daughter.

“Carlisle and his wife signed this before he blew his dumbass brain out.” I open a manila folder and slide a contract to them.

Antonio reads it first. “Piece of shit,” he hisses, passing the paper to Damien. “Men—cowards—like that disgust me.”

Damien clenches his jaw as he reads. “I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt and hope he killed himself over the guilt of signing over his daughter.”

“I’m not giving him the benefit of the doubt for shit,” I snarl.

“If the Russians want her—which it seems they do since they traded her for a million dollars—she’s theirs,” Antonio states matter-of-factly.

Antonio doesn’t know Genesis like Damien and I do.

I draw out the next contract from the folder and hand it to Antonio. “I fixed that.”

He reads it and then peers up at me in curiosity. “You didn’t pay the entire sum?”

“Why would I do that when I need leverage?” I ask.

“Leverage for what?” Damien takes the contract from Antonio.

“What I want from her,” I say simply, motioning for him to read the contract.

Antonio glares at me. “If you default on the contract with Yaroslav, there’ll be trouble for all of us.”

“You know me well enough to know that won’t happen,” I reply.