Page 151 of Stricken

Just like Ivan thought. Everything is for sale when the price is right. "You tell me."

Rossi scribbles a number on the napkin with the pen he pulls out from his jacket's pocket and hands the napkin to Ivan.

Ivan nods. "Fine."

"What kind of help does your employer require?"

"Roberto Morelli is going to be arrested in the next forty-eight hours. Possession with intent. Make sure he goes down. Hard."

"Very well." Rossi smiles and sends another piece of sushi into his mouth. "But tell me, why does your employer want Roberto out of the picture? The man is a harmless drunk."

Ivan's expression hardens. "Nicola Morelli doesn't need distractions right now. And Roberto is a headache the size of the Bellagio."

Silvio Rossi chuckles. "Fair enough. Consider it handled."

As Ivan steps back out into the sweltering evening, he allows himself a small, grim smile. The wheels are in motion. Soon, Roberto and Salvatore would be nothing but unpleasant memories. Footnotes in the rise of Nicola Morelli.

And Ivan, ever the loyal soldier, will make sure it happens. By any means necessary.

* * *

Although he loves all the gaudy glow, he hasn't been able to get used to it. It's grown on him—the collections of tasteless neon lights that illuminate the Strip every night. But he finds this inconvenient. If you're a former military over six feet tall and clearly stand out in any kind of crowd, it can complicate things. But Ivan knows how to make himself invisible, how to become one of the guys on the crowded sidewalk.

Tonight, he's been tailing the older Morelli brother. From casino to casino. Watching him piss away his allowance. It's ten past midnight when Ivan checks his phone again to see the time. Roberto has been making a drunken spectacle of himself at the blackjack table for over two hours. Throwing around chips and insults in equal measure, oblivious to the trap closing in around him.

Ivan shakes his head in disgust. The spoiled little prince has no idea what's coming.

Minutes keep on ticking by, the night growing long and the crowds thinning to a trickle. Finally, Roberto stumbles out into the stuffy desert air, weaving on unsteady feet toward his sports car.

Ivan follows Roberto outside, waiting.

As if on cue, red and blue lights flash from around the corner. A patrol car pulls up, blocking Roberto's path. Ivan smiles in the privacy of his mind. Right on schedule. He watches as one of the officers approaches, his posture wary. Hands on his weapon. He is young. Mendoza's new partner. Fresh out of the academy.

"Sir, have you been drinking tonight?" he asks Roberto, shining a flashlight into Roberto's face.

"What kind of stupid question is that?" Roberto slurs, his voice thick with arrogance and alcohol. "This is Vegas, baby. Everyone's drinking."

The officer's expression hardens. "I'm going to need to see your license and registration."

Mendoza's silhouette lingers by the patrol vehicle, ready to step in when necessary.

But there's no need.

From here on, it's smooth sailing. Roberto fumbles for his wallet with uncoordinated fingers. The second officer moves to search the car, emerging moments later with a large bag of white powder. Presumably found in the trunk of the vehicle.

"That's not mine!" Roberto yells. "I've never seen that shit before! I'm being set up!"

But it's too late. The cuffs are on. He's shoved into the back of the patrol car. Just like that, an obstacle removed from Nicola's path.

Ivan feels satisfaction. He revels in it. It was almost too easy. Roberto will get buried under a mountain of irrefutable evidence. And Rossi will underperform. By the time the older Morelli brother will see daylight again, the world will be a very different place.

* * *

The bar is poorly lit, a haze of cigarette smoke hanging in the air as Ivan slides onto the stool next to a man who goes by Noose. Noose is the one who does all the dirty work for Salvatore. Ivan knows that he'll be harder to crack but it's not impossible.

The man glances at Ivan briefly, then returns his attention to the beer in front of him.

Ivan signals the bartender for a drink and gets the same beer as Noose.

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