Page 39 of Masked Don

CHAPTER 10

ENZO

Luca’s casino, the Gilded Crown, is located in Ozone Park, a few minutes’ drive from the Aqueduct racetrack, and it announces itself the way Luca Santini announces everything, loudly, expensively, and without an ounce of good taste.

You can see the place from the expressway, a big slab of black glass and gold trim, the name spelled out in letters so large they could be seen from a passing plane. The logo is a neon crown that pulses on and off in a way that makes you want to get inside, just so you won’t have to look at it.

“He built this with money he took from three families who trusted him,” Carmine says beside me as we move through the floor. “And he created the tackiest goddamn thing in the metro area.”

“It’s a tell, just like everything else about him.” My pace is even. “He’s loud and wants attention. This place is merely an extension of that need.”

We’re early, which is deliberate. We’re scheduled to meet with Jack Ketch, Luca’s counselor. But I’m in no hurry to start the meeting. I want Luca to see that I’m here and that he’s still operating on my time. The meeting starts when I want it to start.

I’m threading through the crowd, heading toward the private elevator at the back, when I see something at the edge of the floor that catches my eye. At the sight, everything in me goes cold and still at once.

Sitting at one of the high-limit poker tables in a roped-off bay under a chandelier shaped like, God help us, a crown, is my sister. She’s slumped in a chair, a tumbler of something brown sweating on the felt in front of her, along with a scattering of chips she’s in the process of losing.

“Carmine.”

“I see her.” His voice is flat and careful. “I can handle it.”

“No.” The word lands flat and final. “Stay close, but I’ll do it.”

Genevieve doesn’t notice me until I’m standing over her. And when she does, her face registers guilt and defiance, topped off with the sort of sloppy smile that makes it clear she’s had more than a few of the free cocktails.

Her pupils are black and blown wide, and there’s a sheen of sweat at her hairline. I’ve seen her hammered enough times to know this isn’t that. This involves a needle or a mirror, and despite everything she’s put this family through, my heart squeezes the way it always does.

“Big brother.” She lifts the tumbler in a wobbling toast. “Come to play? They’ve got a wonderful table here. Very generous. I’m doing them a favor, really, the way I keep donating.”

“Get up.”

“I’m in the middle of a hand.”

“You’re in the middle of a goddamn Santini casino, handing him your money and dignity in equal measure. I’m here to discuss our family’s future, and you’re throwing yours away.” My voice is quiet enough for the rest of the table not to hear, but loud enough for her.

Something flickers behind the chemical glaze over her eyes. For an instant, I see the smart, perceptive woman she used to be.

Then she’s gone. The Genevieve I don’t like returns, letting out an ugly laugh, loud enough to make heads turn.

“And out comes the Don.” She says the title like a slur. “Or the wannabe Don, at least. God, the way you pretend like you give a shit about me makes me sick. You just want me out of your sight so I’m not embarrassing you. As long as I’m not, you could care less what happens to me. You’d only notice I was gone when you realized no one was drinking your expensive booze.”

It hits. She always knows exactly where to aim. But her hand trembles around the glass, and I can see it for what it is: chemical bravado.

“Carmine,” she slurs as Carmine appears beside me, the effect like a mountain quietly moving to my side.

“Miss Accardi, let me walk you out. I can drive you home myself.”

“I don’t want to leave.”

I crouch, just for a second, so we’re level, so the next part is only for her. “Gen. Listen to me. If you’re going to do this, do it in a place where I don’t have to worry about your safety. You’re in enemy territory right now.”

For precisely one moment, the bravado fades and she looks at me like we’re kids again, and our father is shouting downstairs at us.

Then the mask flips right back on.

“Fine.”

She stands too fast, sways, and catches herself on my arm like she planned it.