Page 16 of Tainted Princess

I was doing well here in Vegas. I had half a dozen clubs and bars, some more lucrative than others, but all of them in the black. I had some smaller businesses, like the laundromats and a few payday loan places that were all making steady bank. On top of that, I had my underground casino, where big players lost even bigger amounts, and I ran the fight club as well as the loan sharking that Harry found so appealing.

And then there was the porn.

I wasn’t hurting, and that was good. No, it was fucking great.

But I had plans. I wanted to be even bigger, get my clubs into the big-name hotels. I wanted to be the first place people thought of when they thought Las Vegas Luxury. The name Enzo Argenti was going to be synonymous with having the time of your life, losing all your money and not even caring because you had so much fuckin’ fun. I wanted every drug addicted celebrity and rich playboy coming to me to spend their money onmygoods. I wanted English royals and Saudi princes banging down my doors to enjoy a night at my establishments.

And if being Made could get me there, then I wasn’t about to say no.

But a fuckin’ wife? Was that a price I was willing to pay? I could hardly make my way forward with a needy broad at home tryin’ to hold me back.

“Enzo, this is not a hard decision.” His voice was stern, like he could sense my hesitation through the phone. “This is the opportunity we have been waiting for, son. Don’t let fear of commitment be the thing that holds you back. Francesca De Marco has been raised in this world. I assure you, she knows her place and will give you no trouble. I have known her since she was a child; the girl was made to be a Mob wife.”

“Pop, I—”

“Come to New York, Enzo. Make your bones and speak to the Don. I assure you, you will not regret this arrangement.”

The door to the basement opened, catching my attention, and I watched as Rocco stepped out, his own knuckles looking much like mine did.

ACapo. It would be nice to be in a position to have someone else do the grunt work for a change. Not that I didn’t enjoy breaking skulls, but a guy can only throw so many punches in a week before he starts to show the wear and tear. As Rock sat in the booth beside me, taking the bottle ofPatrónand downing his own healthy swig, I made my decision.

“Alright, Pop. I’ll catch the first flight out.” Rocco raised his eyebrows at that but said nothing. Dude was gonna shit a brick when I told him the plan. “I’ll call you with the details.”

“Excellent, Enzo,” my father replied, and the pride I could hear in his voice just confirmed I had made the right choice. “I will be there to greet you, my son. I will make the necessary arrangements and then we will meet with Don Carlo to iron out the details.”

“Okay, Pop,” I replied. “Oh, uh, one more thing.”

“What is it, son?”

“My new wife,” I said, and Rocco spit his own mouthful across the table, his face comical in its stunned expression. Yeah, you and me both, brother. “She’s not a dog, is she?”

Giuseppe Argenti was still laughing when he disconnected the call.