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S arah

I’m in my bedroom, hunched over my mic, trying to keep some excitement in my voice as I give my listeners a reason to tune into my next podcast. I’m not on video, thank goodness. My blonde bob is a disheveled mess, I’m not wearing makeup, and I look like I haven’t slept well in a while.

It’s because I haven’t.

“If you enjoyed this recap of the Mafia Prince Murders, make sure you tune in next week! I’m planning a deep dive into all the testimony, trial evidence, and the verdict!

” I lean a little closer. “That’s all for this week.

As always, I’m your host Sarah Parker and these have been… your True Crime Minutes !”

I hit the button to end the podcast, lean back, and reach for my disposable vape. The taste of strawberries and cream floods my mouth as I pull it into my lungs and exhale. A short moment of comfort settles in, once I feel the rush of nicotine.

I’m trying to quit, but I’m not there yet.

“What the hell am I going to do?” I groan, taking another draw from my vape and exhaling it above my head in a cloud. “My podcast is dying . I only have one sponsor left. The money I won in Las Vegas is about to run out.”

Speaking my woes into the ether is a rather new thing for me. I used to text my best friend, Lea, but she recently got married. Now her life is all about her incredible husband Massimo and the baby that’s on the way. She didn’t even make it to the altar before she got knocked up.

I would have bet every dollar I had that Lea wouldn’t be the first one to get her cherry popped. Much less the first one to get pregnant. Then again, I never expected to be a virgin at twenty-two with absolutely no prospects, but I’m okay with that.

The wedding, she can have all to herself. I’m never getting married. Everyone at Lea’s wedding probably thought it was the only thing on my mind when I dove for that bouquet, but that wasn’t because I’m eager to walk down the aisle. I just wanted to catch my best friend’s wedding bouquet.

“I should check my email,” I mutter, leaning forward and saying a silent prayer to Cthulhu that I’ll miraculously have new sponsors appear. My prayer goes unanswered. “Damn, Cthulhu, I think we may have to break up. You’re not doing anything for me.”

Cthulhu is the latest on my list of deities to try, because the others just didn’t seem to be working out, either. Maybe it’s time to give up on worship entirely.

What is in my email? Another ad for OnlyFans. I’m not there yet. A weirdo asking if I’ll sell him feet pics, based on how attractive my picture is on the cover of my podcast. I shake my head as I delete it. I’m definitely not there yet.

“There’s only one thing to do.” I spin my chair around, stand, and walk over to my closet. “I have to go back to Las Vegas.”

A twinge of concern makes my stomach tighten, but I shrug it off.

I’m fairly good at counting cards, so I can win some money at the casino.

Massimo’s family owns it, and if I don’t get too greedy, he doesn’t throw me out.

Lea had the talk with me after I got too greedy one night when I had one free cocktail too many.

Now I know there’s a line, and I won’t cross it again.

“Hopefully, Lea will forgive me for the surprise visit,” I sigh, as I put my suitcase on the bed and start packing. “But I’m running out of options, so I have to do this.”

Massimo and Lea are still in newlywed bliss, despite preparing to be parents. I think I’ve gone from trusted confidant and emotional support Sarah to… the annoying best friend. And I hate that. I really do. Lea and I have been closer than sisters since we were kids.

But she’s moving on with her life, and I’m stuck in a rut. It’s hard to move on after everything that happened, even if she was a lot more involved in it than I was. Well, most of it.

Almost a year and a half ago, Lea went on vacation to an island paradise her grandmother went to when she was our age. Lea’s grandmother made Lea swear she would let the island guide her on her adventure. Boy, did it ever. She got taken captive by a Mafia prince.

And now they’re married. But not before my best friend stabbed a hitman and confronted a Mafia king to save Massimo’s life.

I was riding shotgun via my phone for a lot of it.

I helped, too. I used my connections as a true-crime-junkie-slash-true-crime-podcast-host to find a hacker named Cadence and we basically saved the day.

Well, the guys with guns saved the day. But I helped, and because I helped, I was a guest of honor at a Morandi family party. I even got an IOU from Massimo’s father. One favor, whenever I’m ready to cash it in. It’s better than any chip you can win in Vegas, but I’m not there yet, either.

Or maybe I am.

“Okay, I think that’s everything,” I mutter, shoving my laptop into my bag and looking around the room. “Yep, I’ll stop at a motel tonight and get to Las Vegas around noon tomorrow. Perfect.”

I’ll have a room at the casino, free drinks, and I’ll win some money.

I know I can get a room at Salvalagio for free because the other option is crashing with Lea and Massimo.

They have plenty of room, but they’d much rather have me in small doses, I’m sure.

Staying at their hotel is practically a favor to them.

With everything packed, I send a text to let my mom know I will be out of town for a few days and walk outside my house. I get into my car and fumble with my keys when my phone lights up with a message from Lea.

Lea: SM just announced his retirement, effective immediately.

I stare at the phone in disbelief. Salvatore Morandi is retiring. That means Massimo is going to be the head of the Morandi crime family. Better known in the true crime circles as the Dirty Vegas Mafia. The Morandi family isn’t fond of that name.

“Wait a minute,” I say, tapping my steering wheel and puffing on my vape. “If Massimo is in charge, and I still have a favor… that means he has to grant it.”

This could work out to my benefit. I bite my bottom lip and send a reply.

Sarah: Wow! I’m actually on my way to Las Vegas right now! We have to celebrate!

Lea: Really? Okay, want me to get you a room at Salvalagio?

Sarah: Yes, please! I’ll stay out of the way. I just need a short vacation.

Lea: Promise me you won’t go overboard counting cards!

Sarah: I promise! I’ll see you tomorrow! I’m stopping at a motel tonight.

Lea: Be careful. Text me when you get to the motel, so I know you made it.

I send her a few heart emojis and crank up my car.

A few hours and some bad singing later, I’ve texted Lea, and I’m relaxing in my motel room. I enjoy a few hits from my vape as I open my laptop to check the stats for my podcast.

They’re as abysmal as I feared they would be.

“This is terrible!” I moan.

My live podcast didn’t have many viewers, and only a few more have listened to it after it aired. Nobody is listening to my old podcasts anymore, either. It’s no surprise my sponsors have all pulled out and I’m going bankrupt trying to keep it afloat.

“I need content.” I close my laptop and sigh. “Good content. Something like the Mafia Prince Murders, back when the story was still hot.”

Over a million people listened to the series I did on those murders. Unfortunately, instead of it catapulting my podcast to the top, I was a one-hit wonder. It’s been downhill ever since, and there’s not much to go before it hits bottom.

The problem is that I don’t have any good content. I’m rehashing old stuff and there’s nothing exciting I can latch onto.

Nothing I can talk about, at least.

My best friend’s husband is about to become the king of Las Vegas. Head of the Morandi crime family. The content I could do on them… that would take my podcast to another level. But they’re totally off limits. Like, my-body-in-a-gutter off limits.

“Maybe there’s a way around that, now that Massimo is in charge,” I say, taking one last pull from my vape before turning off the lights and laying my head on my pillow.

There has to be.

I arrive in Las Vegas with a plan and execute it flawlessly. Two days of counting cards to cushion myself and let the dust settle from Salvatore Morandi’s retirement. Now I’m trying to convince Lea to let me ask Massimo for my personal favor.

“Sarah, now isn’t the time,” Lea groans, putting her hand on her baby bump. “He’s really busy with everything. Salvatore didn’t want to put his retirement off any longer because he knew it would be a lot more difficult for Massimo to take over after the baby comes.”

“I get that, but I can’t live off casino money forever,” I sigh. “My mom is pressuring me to get a real job—or go back to school. I’m already working at the restaurant, on top of trying to keep my podcast afloat, but if I don’t get content…”

“The Morandi family is off limits, Sarah,” Lea says firmly. “Massimo likes you. He really does. But if you start talking about things you shouldn’t, you’ll get your throat cut. Or sold to some weirdo in a foreign country.”

“Massimo doesn’t kill women,” I say. “And he doesn’t sell them, either. He told you that when he caught you recording him. Right before he took you prisoner.”

“So, you’d rather be a prisoner?” Lea asks. “And Massimo makes exceptions. Trust me. He has his code, but protecting the Morandi family is his top priority… next to me and the baby.”

“If he says no, I promise I won’t push the issue,” I plead. “I just need to see him. Please, Lea. This may be my only chance. I’ve got an idea that will help my podcast, and it doesn’t involve the Morandi family—well, not directly.”

I look at her, silently conveying how desperate I am. Lea looks conflicted. I get it. She’s torn between two worlds now. But I see her resolve breaking, even before she agrees.

“Okay,” Lea relents, grabbing my arm. “He’s in his office.”

I feel a tremble of nervousness as Lea leads me down the hallway to Massimo’s office. We’re at the casino, but guests never see this part. I spot several guys from my Mafia true crime wall. Some of them nod to me. Others just glare.

“I’m going to get a hard spanking for this, Sarah, and if you piss him off, it’s going to be a lot worse,” Lea whimpers, then she shoves me into Massimo’s office and closes the door.

I hear it lock behind me.

Massimo is sitting behind his desk. He looks stressed. He’s a handsome man, but right now, he’s got a scowl on his face that makes him look like he could shoot daggers out of his icy blue eyes.

“I’m busy, I told…” he begins, then he stops when he raises his head and sees me. “Sarah? What are you doing here?”

“Massimo, I know you just became the head of the family,” I say apprehensively. “But I really need to cash in my personal favor.”

“Now?” Massimo growls, standing up from his desk and leveling a harsh gaze at me. “Now isn’t the time, Sarah.”

“I know, b-but…” I stammer, watching as Massimo walks to the door and tries to yank it open. It doesn’t budge. “Damn it, did Lea lock this door? Fuck!”

Massimo stomps to his desk and opens the top drawer. He’s going for his key. As soon as he gets the door open, he’ll throw me out, and it may be a while before I can get an audience with him again.

“Massimo, listen!” I say hurriedly. “I know I can’t talk about your family on my podcast, but what if I don’t say who it is? Just anonymous stories! It doesn’t have to be anything recent. It can be older stuff, as long as it’s original.”

Massimo seems to be ignoring me. He walks to the door with the key in his hand, but pauses and turns back around with an even bigger scowl on his face.

“That’s what you want to use your favor for?” he says incredulously. “Stories?”

“I know I could use it for a lot more, but I was born to be a true crime podcaster!” I groan. “Just like you were born to be the head of… a Mafia crime family. I’ll be careful, Massimo. I know where the line is. I won’t cross it.”

Massimo unlocks the door, glares at me, and yanks it open. I’m going to get thrown out. Hopefully, it’ll be a gentle thrown out.

“Follow me,” Massimo snaps, then motions with his hand.

I nervously step out of his office and glance at Lea, who looks worried. I’m sure she was just kidding about the spanking. Nobody gets a spanking these days, especially from their husband. And she’s pregnant. No way he’s going to spank his pregnant wife.

Massimo leads me down the hallway I walked down earlier, takes a right, and we walk through a set of double doors.

After venturing down a hallway with flickering lights, I start fearing for my life, but remind myself that Massimo likes me.

He’s not going to murder me when he owes me a personal favor—I hope.

“Wait right here,” Massimo orders, then he walks into a room. “Big Boyd! Need to talk. I have a new assignment for you.”

I nervously peek into the room. There are several Mafia guys inside.

Big Boyd is hard to miss. He’s a giant of a man who appears to be in his mid-thirties, sitting in the corner with a cigarette hanging from his lips.

His muscular chest heaves, and he exhales smoke as he puts his cigarette out and stands up.

“Yeah, boss?” Boyd says in a thick voice that’s almost like gravel. “What do you need?”

I don’t know much about Big Boyd. The only time I’ve interacted with him is when he said hello to me at Lea and Massimo’s wedding.

He used to be a bodyguard for Massimo’s sister-in-law before she turned traitor and tried to kill Massimo, along with both of his brothers—one of whom was her husband.

The giant talking to Massimo wasn’t part of the coup.

Big Boyd is hot as hell with broad, burly shoulders, a stout jaw with a dark beard longer than the hair on his head, and emerald-gold eyes.

I’ve always had a thing for bigger guys, even if they’re older than me, but I’m not here for that.

I’m on a mission. If Massimo is going to leave me with Big Boyd so I can get some juicy content for my podcast, I’ll keep things totally professional.

I will not fall for some Mafia guy like Lea did. I’m smarter than that. I’ll admit I’m a bit of a Mafia fangirl, but I prefer them in prison, rather than walking the streets. Except when I need them, I guess.

Massimo and Big Boyd lower their voices, so I can’t hear what they’re saying. Big Boyd doesn’t look happy with the conversation. He shoots a glare at me, and I get trapped in his emerald-gold stare for a moment before retreating around the corner.

A rush of excitement shoots through me, but I try to shake it off.

Totally professional.

I can do this.