Page 67 of Caesar DeLuca
I ride the elevator down to the ground floor and walk out onto the casino on a mission. I’m not a man strolling through his business to see how it’s performing. I’m a man seeking out the woman that he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about.
Several people recognize me. A few casino goers point and whisper among themselves. Staff go stiff and give respectful nods from where they’re heading a game table or serving drinks. One of my men spots me and rushes over.
“Boss, I was just about to call you?—”
“Not now. I’m busy.”
“This is an emergency.”
I shoot him a sideways glare as he falls into step with me. “What kind of emergency? Speak fast.”
“Carisi was on the premises. Him and a couple of his guys.”
“He was what?!”
“He was on the premi?—”
“I heard you, you stunad! What I really want to know is how the fuck could you let him breach my property!?”
“He came in through the main casino doors. But that’s the thing, he’s left already.”
“Left? What did he do while he was here?”
I’ve begun walking faster, making quick progress across the casino floor. I’m still determined to find Ariana. Now more than ever if Carisi was ever on the property. Violence could break out and the last thing I could allow to happen would be Ariana getting caught up in the middle.
My guy follows me every step, stammering through his explanation about Carisi’s visit. I make it to the bar area near the roulette tables. The exact spot that Ariana had said she was at, where I had told her to stay put.
Where the fuck is she?!
“That’s the thing, boss, he didn’t leave alone. He came up to some woman and grabbed her. Walked right out with her and his crew in tow.”
I round on him. “Why didn’t you fucking lead with that!?”
I don’t wait for his incompetent answer—I begin scanning the area, my pulse exploding.
Ariana is nowhere to be found.
She wouldn’t leave after I told her to wait for me to come down. She would’ve stayed put and waited.
“Ariana, pick up your phone,” I growl, dialing her up.
Her phone rings and rings. With each one, dread beats faster in my chest. I grip the phone and stride through the casino looking in every direction.
Ariana… if it’s you’re okay… pick up the phone…
On the sixth ring, a second before it hits the voicemail, the other line answers. Rustling noises sound off in the background until Ariana answers with a breathless, “Hello.”
“Ariana,” I say, my brows connecting in suspicion. “You alright? Where are you? I told you to stay put!”
I listen to more rustling in the background, then the return of Ariana’s voice, almost sounding winded.
“Yes,” she mutters from the other end, “I’m… okay.”
“Where the fuck are you? I’m coming to get you.”
She hasn’t even answered, and I’ve already made it to the elevator and pressed the button for the underground garage.
“I left,” she answers finally. “But I’m okay.”
