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Control. Ownership. Respect. I need all three to feel alive. To feel complete. To feel like myself. I put my feet up on the huge desk and lean back in my chair, loosening my tie. The casino’s office is over-the-top ostentatious with a picture window overlooking the city, making it feel like a command center, and for the foreseeable future, it’s my territory. My office.

Luka, my cousin, has given me the reins to this casino while he’s away and I intend to make the most of my time here. Not just proving myself in the family business—no, that’s not enough—I intend to learn everything I can about running a place like this so that when I step out and open one for myself, there won’t be any missteps. My casino will be the crown jewel in the Milov family collection.

For now, though, I’m just one overworked guy, chugging coffee and trying to absorb everything there is to know about this place—from the day-to-day operations to the behind-the-scenes work that keeps the Milov family, my family, in power. I run a hand through my hair and stretch, feeling the sore muscles in my arms from this morning’s workout. A glance at my Rolex tells me that it was about thirteen hours ago. One long day.

Thankfully, starting tomorrow, I’ll have some help. Luka made sure to hire me an assistant before handing the place over, but I had yet to meet her, wanting to get familiar with the place myself before she stepped in. Hopefully, she’d be up to the task. If not, I had no qualms about firing her and finding someone better suited, and she’d better be aware of that.

My cellphone starts to ring. Luka. Speak of the devil and all that. I hit accept and brought the phone to my ear, spinning the Eames chair around to face the sunset-stained skyline.

“Hey, Anton. Everything in order over there?” Luka sounds more relaxed than I’ve heard him in a while. Family life suits him. “Anything on fire?”

I roll my eyes. “I should’ve called to tell you, actually, the whole place burnt down overnight. Sorry, dude, we’ve got to start over from scratch.”

He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Very funny. I’ll take that as a yes; everything’s running smoothly, and it should be, because it was when I left. It’s about seven there, right? The calm before the storm.”

The casino is open around the clock, but business picks up after work hours when people want to unwind with a drink and a game, letting their worries fade away in our little gambler’s paradise. Soon, the place will be packed and the money will be rolling in.

“Yup, smooth sailing here. Starting to think the whole overworked thing was an act on your part. Seems easy enough to me. I just sit up in this ivory tower all day and sign some papers, right? Blow off some steam with one of the hostesses on my lunch break?”

“Something like that,” Luka says with more than just a hint of sarcasm. “Don’t forget, your new assistant will arrive at nine tomorrow morning, and you’ll need to get her up to speed.”

“Hopefully, she’s up to the job. She’s only twenty-two, right? Last thing I need is some sorority girl biting off more than she can chew here.”

“She can handle it,” Luka promises, and I hear some chatter in the background of his call, a feminine voice that I recognize. “Alright, Hannah is demanding that I get off the phone and let you sink or swim on your own.”

Hannah, Luka’s wife and mother to their twins, is probably the only person who can boss Luka around with any sort of success. “Tell her I’ll be swimming like Phelps over here.”

I let Luka go and decide I’ve had enough work for the day. A quick walk through the floor to make sure things are going as they should before I head out, and then it’s time to blow off some steam. I’m tired of being cooped up and acting like a respectable businessman all day. What I need is a stiff drink and a good fuck. Preferably with a woman who knows what she’s doing and isn't afraid to show those skills off.

The casino is bustling, and the chatter is music to my ears. Every roll of the dice is another dollar in our accounts. I swing by the security office on my way out and take a glance at the wall of cameras.

"All good?” I ask, catching the guard by surprise.

He spins around and gives me a thumbs-up. Alex, I think his name is. One of the new hires and one of the people I’ll be keeping an eye on, making sure their performance is up to snuff.

”All good, Boss,” Alex replies, glancing back at the screens like he can’t pull his attention away for a minute.

Good. I’d rather that than find him dicking around on his phone while there's a gunfight blazing in the background. Wouldn’t be the first gunfight to happen on our turf.

“Got my number?” I double-check. I plan on letting loose tonight, but I’ll keep my phone on me just in case shit starts going down.

He nods. “On speed dial. Seems like a calm night so far, though. Taking off?”

“Yup.” I’ve already got a car waiting for me outside, ready to take me back to my place. I’ll shower and change before heading out. “But if anything happens, and I don't care how small, give me a call. Got it? I’m the one you call now, not Luka.”

No way am I having Luka be the first to know if a fight breaks out in his casino while I’m off partying. I’d never hear the end of it.

I wait for Alex to nod before taking off, heading out the back door to where a black SUV is waiting. It's cold, see my breath fogging in the air sort of cold, and I hurry into the backseat. While we drive back to my place, I shoot a text to my twin brother, Viktor, to see what he's doing tonight.

Club tonight?

It takes a minute for him to text back. He’s got a lot on his plate now with his new wife, Riley, and all the shit that went down with the Vultures, so maybe he could use a night off, too.

Sorry, man, can't tonight. Date night with Riley. How was your first day with a big boy job?

Guess married life puts a damper on partying sometimes. He's wrong, anyway. I've been working my whole life, but I know what he means. Taking over for Luka and running one of these casinos feels like the big league. It’s why I’m feeling so agitated, even though I know I can handle it.

Long. Stressful. No wonder Luka looks so damn old.

His reply comes quickly. Don’t let him hear you say that. Where you headed?

Dunno. Somewhere I can find a MILF to take my worries away.

We pull up in front of my building, and the SUV rolls to a stop. Viktor’s message comes in just as I’m climbing out.

Or two.

He knows me well. Why have one when you can have two? It’s how I feel about most things in life, and it’s why I can already see my future businesses spreading out across the world. It won’t be long before my name is the first one people think of when they hear Milov.

I take the elevator up to the penthouse and step into the entryway, stripping off my jacket and tie the moment I walk in the door. A few hours later, I’m showered and dressed—bomber jacket, gray cashmere shirt, black cargos, and Vans. I flip through my contacts and consider inviting some of the other guys, maybe Roman or Arseny, but ultimately decide against it. Tonight, I’ll fly solo. It's a risk—being in this family means having a permanent target on your back; there’s strength in numbers, but I’m willing to roll the dice.

Back into the car, and we head downtown to one of our clubs where there's already a line forming down the block to get in. But I don’t have to wait. I feel their eyes on me as I walk past them all, catching lingering, heated looks from the women and envious ones from the men. Maybe I should've brought some security, but I’ve got my pistol in a concealed holster at my hip, and that feels like all I need tonight.

The music is thumping and the lights are dim. It’s packed, bodies writhing on the dance floor and booths overflowing, but with just one look from me, a bouncer clears out the prime spot in the back. I take my seat, and a minute later, there’s a Manhattan in front of me, made exactly how I like it. One sip, and I start to feel the tension in my shoulders unwind.

Two minutes later, there are three women standing in front of my table in barely-there clothing, and while I don’t hate the view, they’re too young for what I want tonight. I cock an eyebrow at them, and they giggle nervously.

One of them leans in and bats her fake eyelashes at me. “Do you want some company?”

I take pity on them and pat the seat beside me. Like me, they’re opportunistic. They see a wealthy man sitting alone and think they've got a chance. Even though I've got no intention of taking them home, I don’t hate the companionship and their chatter is pleasant background noise while I scan the dance floor for what I actually want this evening. They order champagne, of course, and I upgrade them to a better bottle. Appearances matter, and they’re at my table.

Soon enough, they’re tipsy and laughing, spilling champagne and draping themselves all over me. One of them, I think her name is Clarissa, rests her head on my shoulder. My eyes, however, are on the dancers. There’s one I'm considering—seems about my age, early thirties, and fit as hell. Great dancer. Confident. But something holds me back.

I’m finishing my third drink and starting to feel pleasantly buzzed when my eyes catch on someone new. She’s not what I was looking for, not at all, but my gaze is glued to her as she makes her way to the bar. I can tell she’s young, maybe early twenties, with the sort of fresh-faced innocence that makes my mind run through every filthy thing I could teach her in a matter of seconds.

Clarissa is saying something, trying to pull my attention back to the lithe little blonde half-sprawled on my lap, but I shake my head, ignoring her. The woman reaches the bar and leans against it, sticking her round ass out as she does so. Her curves are oversized, every inch of her soft enough to dig my fingers into. She looks slightly out of her element here and I like that, the doe-eyed look bringing out something feral in me.

She’s no MILF, but she's what I want, and my body isn't accepting any substitutions. I wait for her drink to arrive, some sort of martini, and watch her turn and lean her back against the bar as she takes the first sip. From this angle, I can see her perfect rack, shown off by her low-cut shirt, and my mouth goes dry. Way more than a handful.

I don’t care that I’m practically stalking her while she settles in, shaking out her long brown hair before heading to the dance floor, drink in hand. I’m too busy imagining wrapping my fist in that hair and making her back arch. She dances alone, but I know it won't be long before someone starts sniffing around. For a moment, her eyes land on mine, and she catches me staring. Her cheeks turn pink and she looks away, down at her drink, her body swaying to the music.

Did I just make her blush with a look? God, she’s going to be fun. Some dickhead moves up on her, and my fingers tighten around my glass. He’s not good enough for her—scrawny little prick—and I twist myself out from under the three women around me.

"Excuse me, girls,” I say, setting my glass down before I shatter it.

They protest and pout, but I’m immune to their charms. Some other man is going to hit the jackpot over here tonight, but I’ve got my mind set on a different prize. Leaving them behind, I stalk over to where my woman is dancing with some other man. He catches sight of me before she does, and for one fleeting moment draws himself up like he's going to put up a fight for her. Then the look in my eye sends him scurrying like a dog with its tail tucked and she’s all alone. Mine.

Her doe eyes are honey brown and skate over my body, moving up until they meet mine. I don’t say anything, just catch her waist with my arm and pull her close until we're dancing against each other. She's warm and eager against me, none of that few inches of space between us shit like she was doing with that other guy. No, she’s all over me, and I can feel how soft she is now, how perfectly she fits against me.

I’m guessing she’s not much of a drinker because that blush of hers has become a permanent streak of pink across her cheeks now that her glass is empty, and I like that, too. A lightweight. Not much of a party girl.

She wraps her arms around my neck, and I smell the perfume on her wrist, sweet like cotton candy, just like the rest of her. We're both still fully clothed, yet she's driving me wild. I don't even know her name, but I’m certain I’m taking her home tonight.