Page 12 of Bad Blood
As if desperate to change the subject, Lola surveys the bar. “Swanky place, Santi. It’s different.”
And by different, she means flashy.
Un-Carrera-like.
Legado Casino is a purchase my father and I didn’t agree on. The kingpin of Mexico’s Carrera Cartel is old-school. He prefers to fly under the radar. Keep a low profile. Remain an international ghost and blend in.
Fuck that.
I’ve run our East Coast operation his way for two years. All it’s gotten me is a one port cocaine distribution and ridicule on the other side of the river. Now, it’s time to do things my way. I’m making noise and lighting cannons. When I’m done, everyone will know the name Santi Carrera.
“Different.” I repeat. “So is that dress.” I narrow my eyes at the skimpy black material suctioned to her body like Saran Wrap. “Where’s the rest of it?”
Those pale blue eyes darken.Trophy eyes, my father calls them. Ones that left a string of shattered hearts and broken bones back in Mexico. “Don’t start.”
I don’t plan to.
For now.
“Come on...” Placing my empty glass on the bar, I stand and offer her my hand. “I’ll give you a tour.”
Lola slides out of her chair with a grin. “Does it include a free stop at the blackjack table?”
“No,” I murmur, dragging her behind me.
It’s going to be a long fucking summer.
* * *
A half hour later, I’ve paraded Lola through Legado’s main casino floor, four more bars, a world-renowned restaurant, two spas, and finally the executive offices on the third floor.
The minute I open the door, a short, perky blonde pushes away from her desk and catapults herself out of her chair. “Good afternoon, Mr. Carrera, Mr. Spader confirmed your appointment for tonight.”
It’s about time.
The Atlantic City Gaming Commissioner has kept me waiting for forty-eight hours. That’s not how I do business. People wait on me, not the other way around.
“Thank you, Audrey.” Pressing my palm against Lola’s back, I maneuver her toward my office, adding over my shoulder, “By the way, you’re fired.”
“I d-don’t...” she stutters, her eyes glazing over. “What did I—?”
Do?Nothing. She’s simply not needed, and I always trim excess.
My focus returns to Lola as she takes a leisurely stroll around the executive office lobby.
“Cheerful setup you have here.” She folds her arms across her chest while taking in the dominant dual color scheme. One that carries through to every single office—especially mine.
Black and red.
Two colors that not only match my mood, but hide more incriminating colors.
Yet I don’t owe her an explanation, so I don’t offer one.
“So, you’ve kept me in suspense long enough.” Circling around me, she perches on the corner of the desk. “What am I going to be doing here all summer? Director of Marketing? VP of Operations?”
“Secretary.”
One word, and my sister’s face drops. “Santi! I’m your sister, not your damn secretary.”
