Page 5 of Mario
“Behave,” I say quietly.
“I am behaving,” Ainsley says.
“You called our potential client a villain in his own reception area.”
“Quietly.”
“Not better,” I whisper out of the corner of my mouth just as one of the women at reception looks up, and I smooth the expression away.
“Ms. Murray,” she says, rising. “Welcome to Conti Enterprises.”
“Thank you.”
“Mr. Mario Conti and Mr. Lorenzo Conti are ready for you upstairs. I’ll just need you and your associates to sign in.”
Her gaze moves to Benjamin and Ainsley.
“Benjamin Harper,” he says.
“Ainsley Torres.”
They sign the visitor log after me. We hand over identification, receive temporary badges, and are escorted toward the elevator by a man in a dark suit who does not introduce himself.
Security, then.
I saw the earpiece before he turned his head.
Benjamin sees it too. His eyes flick to mine for half a second, then away.
Ainsley says nothing, but I know she probably sees more than either of us.
She used to work in white-collar investigations before she moved into compliance. She’s used to working with people who have subtle security.
The elevator doors open without the man pressing a button.
Private access. Of course.
We step inside.
The doors close with a soft, expensive whisper.
For a moment, there is only the quiet hum of upward motion.
I know we’ve been evaluated since the moment we stepped into the building. Maybe even before that.
Based on my research and what I’ve felt since walking into the building, Mario Conti is extremely cautious and equally used to making people nervous before they ever shake his hand.
There are rumors, of course, about what kind of business he runs. Not the face of it, not Conti Enterprises. Theotherbusiness. The kind that stays in the shadows.
And there’s the fact that there are some other well-known Contis who run someothersorts of business in Atlantic City.
Information I learned during my research, but no matter where I looked or what stones I turned, I was never able to find any sortof confirmation on whether there was any relation between the two.
But my gut tells me to exercise my own caution.
Actually, that’s a lie.
My gut is telling me to turn around and walk out. Right now.
