Page 10 of Ruined

I wiped my lips with a napkin. “What for?”

“To punish him.”

The suggestion triggered an image: Luca over my knee, face down, my hand delivering the punishment he’d earned.

I shook it off. “He’s not worth the effort.”

I faced the stacks of paperwork in front of me, but my mind wandered.

Luca Costa.

Everyone knew the story. The infamous Costa cousin, back from the fucking dead. It’d been fourteen years since the murder of his parents, and the family thought Luca had burned with the house. But the damned Bratva was more sadistic with their prey. The Russians had taken him, groomed him into the Bratva, and turned him into a soldier. He was only ten when they abducted him.

Luca got out when he killed Mikhail, the Pakhan, with the same shot between the eyes he’d offered me. The guy was cold. Even spoke with a hint of an accent and knew more Russian than Italian. He was dangerous. Wild. The family didn’t trust his allegiance, and he didn’t his own desires.

Luca was probably gay. He wouldn’t admit it. Not that I blamed him. Being gay in this life was a liability. The only way to survive was to be twice as ruthless as the bastards that challenged me. Let them underestimate me. I’d make them regret it.

I sipped water, letting the burn in my mouth fade. Running a casino wasn’t just about overseeing tables or slot machines. I tracked where every dollar came and went and guaranteed the transactions aligned with the family’s interests.

I sifted through pages of ledgers. Cash counts and high-roller tabs—it all had to be airtight. Every cent that ran through this place was either clean money waiting to be processed or dirty cash waiting to be cleaned, and the numbers had to stay in our favor. The casino was a critical part of the family’s finances. Onemistake in the books could mean a hit to our operations across the city.

Someone at the door knocked.

My bodyguard tensed.

Frank, a floor supervisor, stepped inside. “Got some irregularities. Two dealers on the blackjack tables have been shorting us on chips, handing out extras to regulars.”

“How long’s it been going on?”

“A few days.”

“Get me their names and surveillance footage. If they have sticky fingers, I’ll cut them off.”

Frank handed me the folder, his hand brushing mine. Something in his eyes flickered, but it disappeared when he noticed my bodyguard.

“Anything else?” I asked.

He hesitated. “No, that’s all.”

I nodded, flipping open the folder.

“Nice to see you, Dom.”

I didn’t look up as he left.

The door closed behind him. I let out a slow breath, staring at the folder. A casino bled you dry if you weren’t vigilant. Dealers skimming chips, laundering operations that didn’t add up, rival families muscling in on VIP clients. There was no room for error in this business, and I’d be damned if anyone fucked up this opportunity for me.

Especially Luca.

He was dangerous and beautiful. Dark, wavy hair. Tan skin. Brow slits. Everything he wore screamedhardened thug, which seemed to be the point. He’d curated that look during his captivity with the Bratva. Now that he was free, why wear the costume?

Luca didn’t strike me as a brainless gangster. He was four years younger than me, but his eyes held an ancient weariness. And he was painfully gorgeous. He reminded me of the boys who bullied me in high school. The untouchable ones. He carried himself like he had something to prove, especially when it came to me. I’d seen Luca’s discomfort in the eyes of so many men. It didn’t bother me.

The Bratva had probably poisoned his mind. Guys like Luca acted like I was the devil for liking dick, but that demon lived in his head, not mine. He could call me whatever he wanted behind my back. I’d be here, waiting to remind him where he stood in my world.

My phone rang.

I answered it. “Yeah?”

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