Page 13 of Gambler's Fallacy

If it hadn’t been for Havoc and Vortex being with him the previous day, I doubt he’d have asked me to come home.

I can’t focus on Seven right now, though. I’ve got my own problems to deal with—namely, Trent.

He’s on the couch in my office, feet up on the coffee table, while he taps on his tablet. “I think you could save money by switching detergent brands,” he says.

I scowl at him and send off the email I’ve been working on. “I’m not switching detergents.”

“You’re using one of those expensive eco-friendly ones! I’m pretty sure we could cut that cost in half.” Trent taps his tablet. “And you need to start offering bottled water in the gift shop. Do you know how much money you can make with some branded water?”

“No,” I repeat, irritated. “I didn’t hire you to audit my expenses.The casino is running well as it is. All I need is somebody to oversee the day-to-day operations.”

Trent lets out a laugh. “You didn’t hire me at all, did you?”

No, no I didn’t. That had been my grandfather. I’m still not sure if he actually likes Trent that much, or if he’s secure in the knowledge that he can keep Trent under his thumb. Since Trent is from one of the smaller mafia families, his position is tenuous. As long as he remains married to my sister and does as my grandfather says, he can enjoy all the benefits of the Spade family name.

If he fucks up, though, Alice will be a young widow. I’m sure she won’t miss him, but Lori adores her father.

“I’m certain Grandfather doesn’t care about what detergent my hotel uses either,” I say. “You can look over yesterday’s reports and tell me if anything stands out. I need to talk to the marketing department to see how the promotions for the upcoming match are doing.”

At the mention of the match, Trent perks up. “Ooh, the MMA match? I’m going to bring a few buddies for that.”

“The match is sold out,” I say, gritting my teeth. “You can bringoneperson.”

“Yeah, yeah. How are you handling the books for the match?” He looks down at his tablet again. “And… sheesh, is this really a fair fight? Looks like everybody’s betting on Blade Fury.”

I rub my brow. “Trent, I don’t really care. I trust the promoters to know what they’re doing when they book the matches, and the bookies are handling the bets.”

Unfortunately, Trent definitely does care. “We could make a killing betting on the other guy.”

“I already make a killing,” I point out. “And you’d only earn out if the other guy wins.”

Trent grins widely. “Caleb, don’t tell me you’ve never rigged a match!”

Shit. I forgot that his family runs a lot of illegal fighting rings in Calamity. I prefer my violence to be a little less raw, so I’ve never bothered to look into that business.

“I don’t need to rig matches,” I point out. “I win no matter which player comes out on top.”

“Forget the detergent.Thisis what we need to fix.” Trent nods to himself. “How many matches are lined up? Hmm. Okay, it can’t be too obvious, since you’re selling pay-per-view rights, but I think I know a few guys who would take a fall. You’d be surprised how many of the fighters have gambling debts.”

“What? Gambling debts, in Calamity? You don’t say,” I answer sarcastically. “And forget it. I don’t want to risk drawing attention to our operations. Run the side hustle if you want, but the big televised fights stay clean.”

“A thousand bucks says the promoters are running their own side hustle,” Trent says. After a few seconds, he adds, “Yeah, you can deposit that straight into my wallet because I know one of the promoters. He’s a regular down at my dad’s ring.”

“No,” I say forcefully. “Do your job as the general manager, Trent. That means managing the staff, overseeing the day to day operations, and dealing with casino problems. Any outside strategy ismyresponsibility, not yours.”

Most men would fall in line, but Trent smirks at me. “You sure that’s how you want to play it, Caleb?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Yes. This is still my casino, and my operations have tripled my family’s wealth in the past six years. There’s no sense in wasting all of my effort on a risky venture.”

“Okay. Suit yourself.” Trent gets up and heads to the door. “Guess I’ll go see what’s going on at the casino proper.”

When he reaches the door, I say, “Oh, and Trent?”

He stops to look over his shoulder. “What?”

I smirk at him. “Careful. You don’t want to end up like Grant.”

His eyes widen, and he gives me a curt nod. “Got it.Boss.” Then he’s gone, the door slowly shutting behind him.

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