Big beefy kingpin big al.., p.1
Big Beefy Kingpin (Big Alpha's Book 4), page 1
Big Beefy Kingpin
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Big Alpha’s
Cassi Hart
Published by: Cheeky Publishing LLC
First Edition
Copyright © 2023 Cassi Hart– All rights Reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the copyright owner. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication / use of the trademarks is not authorized, associated with or sponsored by the trademark owners. For any permission requests email cassi@cassihartromance.com
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Dedicated to my fantasies about Vegas, the allure of what could be and what could happen. Thank you for your support, enjoy!
Contents:
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
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About the Author
Chapter One
Ivy
What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas.
Unless you go back there, when you know you absolutely shouldn’t.
If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would willingly return to the one place I’d sworn to avoid, I would have called them crazy. I really must be out of my goddamned mind to come back here after everything I did to get away.
See, five years ago, when I escaped from Las Vegas and left my crime family behind with nothing but the clothes on my back, I swore to never return—even if it was the only place that would be safe from a catastrophic event.
When my father died suddenly, I saw my one chance to flee. I had been hoping to find a way out of the Irish mob, but when you’re born into the mob the only way out is death. So, when I saw my chance at freedom, I ran as far away as I could, got a new identity, started a new life, and became a completely different person.
I made it all the way to New York, and although I never managed to become a doctor, as I had always dreamed of, I work as a nurse’s aide and I have made the most amazing friends. The best part is that my family didn’t force me to marry, just to strengthen their criminal ties.
If my family realizes I am back in Vegas they will imprison me until they can marry me off to the leader of the Mexican Cartel. This is so dangerous and yet…
Here I am, and it didn’t even take an apocalypse to bring me back.
No, all it took was for my recently engaged best friend to suggest we head to Vegas for a typical bachelorette party. Out of all the cities she could have picked, Scarlett chose the one place I’d sworn never to return to.
What are the fucking chances!
I mean, I could have told the truth and explained to Scarlett that Vegas held a past I would rather not face. Knowing my best friend, she would have canceled the trip; but I didn’t want to ruin this for her.
I decided to conceal my fears and the truth behind my past. So, now, here I am, sweating like a sinner in church, dressed in a very short black dress that is not doing a good job of making me easily overlooked.
“Scar, this dress is borderline pornographic.” I point out for the tenth time since leaving the hotel. I have to yell the words into her ear as the other girls in the limo with us are screaming their lungs out to an off-key version of the spice girls’, Wannabe.
My outfit is the least of my problems right now, but it’s one I don’t mind focusing on.
“What are you talking about?” Scarlett yells back, her eyes swimming with mirth when she turns to me. “You look sexy as hell. You’re all long legs and killer cleavage.”
“Sexy?” my eyes widen in horror. “Scar, we are going to a strip club, I don’t want to show too much skin someone might mistake me for a stripper…”
My voice trails off when I notice the way she avoids meeting my gaze. My eyes narrow and I grab her hand to draw her attention back to me.
“Scarlett,” I whisper. “We are going to a strip club, right?”
“Well, not exactly…”
Oh God!
My heart stops and with it, all of the motor functions in my body. A chill runs down my spine and goosebumps erupt all over my skin as her words slowly register. Coming to Vegas, the plan was for us to visit strip clubs and a few other nightclubs in the city.
The Irish Mob, which is run by my family, operates a lot of businesses in the city but they never ventured into strip clubs. My uncle, the leader of the mob, always said that strip clubs were more trouble than they were worth, and coming into the city, part of me was counting on him remaining true to those sentiments.
“Scar, we’re still going to the strip club, right?” I ask again, my voice shaky and eyes pleading for her to tell me that nothing has changed, but she doesn’t dare meet my gaze.
Panic claws up my throat and robs me of my ability to breathe with every second she remains silent and it’s not until someone speaks up that I manage to inhale.
“Ladies, we’re here,” Quinn, Scarlett’s cousin—the person who organized this entire trip—yells, and it’s then that I notice we’ve stopped.
I let go of Scar’s hand and turn to the window, planting my face against the foggy glass and staring in horror at the bright shimmering lights at the entrance of the enormous building.
Oh, No!
“It’s okay, Ivy,” Scarlett says, grabbing my hand and dragging me out of the limo behind her. “I know it’s not the strip club we discussed, but this is even better, I promise. Imagine all the fun waiting for us.”
Oh, she has no idea.
Scarlett doesn’t have a clue what happens inside a casino; the games aren’t even half of it.
“Ladies, welcome to Casino Regio,” says Quinn, and her words are drowned by loud squeals of excitement from the rest of the girls. “I hope you ladies brought your purses because tonight we are going to party!”
What she says barely registers, nothing is enough to pull my attention away from the flashing sign.
Regio. It’s Italian for Royalty.
As kids, Uncle O’Malley insisted that my cousins and I learn the language of the rival mafia families but I never quite got the hang of it. Even so, what little knowledge I have of the Italian language is enough for me to understand which crime family runs this Casino.
I can’t tell whether to be relieved or horrified.
Both.
It’s definitely both.
On one hand, the Casino is owned by the Italian mafia, which makes the chances of running into my family very low. On the other hand, they are still a crime family, and one word would get me kidnapped and sold back to my family for profit… or worse.
“Ivy?”
This is such a huge mistake.
My heart is pounding and there is a roaring sound in my ears. I shouldn’t have come here. I might lose everything I worked so hard to build…
“Ivy, are you all right?” Scarlett grabs my hand and snaps me out of my thoughts. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“I…” guilt floods in when I see the concern in my best friend’s eyes. It’s not her fault that I am in this position now. If only I’d opened up to her about my past…
No, I can’t ruin Scarlett’s special night just because of my hang-ups. We’re already here, plus, it’s highly unlikely for someone from the Italian mafia to recognize me. My father rarely let me leave the house, so I never interacted with people outside my family.
Besides, it’s been five years. Anyone I knew from back then would’ve already forgotten about me by now. Not to mention, my dyed hair should help to make me less recognizable.
I hope.
“Ivy, if you need us to go back…”
“What, no!” I say. Not wanting to ruin this for her, I quickly think of an excuse to explain away my weird behavior. “It’s just… I’m just worried about my landlord raising our rent again but we’re here, right? Who knows, maybe I can win enough money to help me finally move out of that shitty apartment.”
“Or… you could let me help you with the rent.”
I shake my head, flashing her a soft smile before looping my arm around her shoulder. It’s not the first time Scarlett has offered to help me with the rent but considering she’s getting married soon, I’d rather she invest her money in building her life.
“You don’t get to worry about that tonight. I just want you to have fun and enjoy Vegas before you and Maverick tie the knot.”
At the mention of her fiancé, her eyes turn dreamy and her smile softens, distracting her from my issues.
I look up at the sign and swallow. I wasn’t lying when I mentioned that my landlord was riding my ass with his
Perhaps this is actually an opportunity. If there was one thing my father did well it was counting cards. He had insisted that I learn so, from the time I was four he began to teach me. Since mistakes led to angry flying fists, I learned very quickly. If there is one thing I know it is how to cheat my way through games without getting caught.
“Ivy, what do you say we head in before Sheila empties the place of all alcoholic drinks,” Scarlett says with a chuckle, linking her arm through mine. “I swear that girl will drink anything that isn’t nailed down.”
I offer her an indulgent smile and a new sense of determination sets in. This is the easiest way for me to pay my rent, as long as I don’t draw attention to myself I could be set for months.
I guess Vegas does have something to offer me after all.
This city owes me that much at least.
Chapter Two
Roman
I idly swing the blade in my hand, watching the men throw menacing glances at each other.
The blade is sharp, and one little slip could cut through flesh and neatly slice off a finger but I don’t think of that as I swing the blade around. I haven’t had an accident since I was twelve which led to me stabbing myself while playing with it. I was hospitalized for weeks which caused my obsession with the weapon to grow.
Its effectiveness and how smoothly it moves in my fingers is the reason why the blade is my weapon of choice and my fingers itch to put it to use. I haven’t used it in a few days and I’m growing antsy.
“We are only going to do it for fifty percent. I think it’s only fair.”
Fair?
I nearly scoff at the ridiculous word but my face remains stoic.
There is no such thing as fair in the underground business and this baby-faced redhead hasn’t learned that yet, despite being the heir to the Irish mob.
“Now that’s stealing! We had a deal. We offer the connections and make the orders. Your only job is to deliver the weapons,” Luca, one of my men, cuts in.
“We are not your little delivery boys,” the Irish baby-faced kid says, with a sneer. “We take all the risks to get the goods. If someone gets arrested it will be us—so our offer stands, we take fifty percent and you get your weapons; or you find another way.”
I ignore the two arguing men and turn my attention to the real leader of the Irish, Patrick O’Malley. He and I are not close in any sense of the word but we’ve managed to stay out of each other’s way for close to a decade. Despite his quiet nature, he is a cruel man, one I’ve seen in action before.
“Fifteen percent,” I say, my eyes fixed on the silver-haired man so he knows it’s him I’m addressing.
The room falls into dead silence that not even the mouthy kid dares to break. I swing the blade in my hand, watching Patrick for a reaction, but he’s careful to hide what he is thinking. The older man reaches up and strokes his white beard, his eyes on the table and when he looks up to fix them on me, I read the answer in his sharp green eyes before he can open his lips to speak.
“We have ourselves a deal,” O’Malley announces with a toothy smile, extending his hand for me to shake. I stick the blade into the table before reaching over to take his hand.
“Well, then, let’s seal the deal with a drink,” I say, waving for one of my men to begin pouring. O’Malley grabs his glass and downs the whiskey before the rest of his men join in.
Technically, we are not allies, making the air around us tense. I can see the eagerness on the Irish men’s faces to just get the hell out. Their features are tense and their eyes wary as they watch my men, fingers itching to reach for their weapons, an instinct that is put to test when the door bursts open to reveal Antonio, my first cousin and second in command.
He looks around, reading the room, before walking towards me and leaning in to whisper in my ear. “Don, we have a situation.”
As the underboss, Antonio handles a lot of business in my absence, and for him to seek me out speaks to the seriousness of the issue.
“Gentlemen, I have to excuse myself but please, feel free to drink as much as you want and of course, you’re welcome to enjoy all of the entertainment the establishment has to offer.”
With a single nod at O’Malley, I walk out, Antonio in tow. He knows better than to talk about sensitive information in an open space, so we stay locked in silence even as we take the elevator to the tenth floor where my office is located.
“Elena,” I nod at my secretary as we make our way to my office. Like everyone that works for me, she too is family, albeit a distant cousin but the blood ties assure me of her loyalty to the Battista family.
I strip off my coat as I make my way to the bar to pour myself a drink. I hate the diplomatic part of my life and live for the chaos but of late, things have been calm and history has shown me that this doesn’t always last long.
“Don, we have a problem,” Antonio says, following me to the bar. “With the casino.”
I lift a single brow at my cousin before pouring us each a drink. “What about it?”
“One of the men noticed something odd with the winnings and reported that there might be cheating happening at one of the tables.”
“You know the protocol for this, Antonio.”
“Sì, but Don, we have reason to believe that the cheater is underaged. If someone finds out that we let an underaged woman gamble and drink at our casino…”
“Underaged?” my voice is dangerously low and even without looking up, I can tell just how much of an effect it has on Antonio. He is not a man who is easily shaken but everyone knows I don’t like it when my rules are broken.
Someone will have to pay for that.
“Well… we think she is at least over eighteen but not twenty-one yet. At least she doesn’t look twenty-one but there is no way of checking without drawing attention. The girl has managed to win over twenty-five thousand dollars in the last three hours.”
My eyes shoot up and I meet my cousin’s eyes. Twenty-five thousand dollars is not that large of a sum—the casino has seen people take home hundreds of thousands of dollars—but it’s also a rarity for someone to garner such a lump sum in a short period.
And for my men to pick up on it…
“Show me,” I say, walking around the bar but Antonio already has the live feed up on his iPad.
I see her before he can point her out and my breath catches. She is a tiny thing, dressed in a revealing black dress with long light brown hair curtaining her face. It’s obvious that she’s hiding her face which makes her even more suspicious. She doesn’t have the confidence of someone who knows what they are doing and yet…
“Twenty-five thousand dollars, you say?” I hum, my eyes on the tiny brunette, suddenly intrigued.
“It’s the girl in the short black dress. There is no way of stopping her or kicking her out without drawing attention and with the Irish mob around, we can’t risk causing a scene.”
I watch her, surrounded by a group of women, and Antonio is right, there is no way of getting her away from her friends without attracting the attention of the Irish mob; some of whom I spy making their way to various gambling tables.
“I’ll take care of it,” I say, handing the tablet back to Antonio and heading to the door. “Make sure our guests don’t cause any trouble in the Casino.”
Antonio doesn’t ask how I intend to take care of the girl but there is no missing curiosity in his eyes. He follows me out of the office and to the elevator. He takes that time to update me on the business but I’m barely paying attention, my mind on the girl.
It’s not uncommon for me to be hands-on with the Casino but I leave most of the work to Antonio. He has the authority to make decisions and I could have simply instructed him how to go about handling the woman, but part of me is curious.
I’m intrigued…
“Keep your ears and eyes open around the Irish,” I say once we’re in the lobby. Antonio simply nods before walking away.
I step into the crowded room, ignoring the people trying to get my attention as I make my way to the blackjack table and then… I see her.
