Page 17 of Inescapable Ties
“No, but really,” I said, ignoring her jab. “What is it?”
“Urban exploration.”
Luciana launched into a speech about exploring abandoned places and buildings. I didn’t get the appeal, but as I glanced over at her gushing about it, I couldn’t help but note how cute she looked when she was passionate about something.
As soon as we arrived at The Underground Vault, the Valet took our car. I linked arms with my wife and we entered the building together, leisurely strolling inside.
“This is nice,” Luciana commented.
And it was nice. The upper floor exuded elegance and luxury, with its sleek lounge adorned in black marble. Polished stone gleamed under the warm glow of dim lights, creating a seductive atmosphere. The air was heavy with the scent of expensive cologne and intoxicating music filled the room.
But we weren’t here for floor one. The two of us came to see the basement.
“Let’s go downstairs,” I said.
We made our way to an indiscreet side door guarded by two mafiosos. They nodded at me and opened the door for Luciana and I. The two of us made our way down the stairs until we reached the main attraction of the venue.
The gambling area.
Luciana’s eyes widened in awe at the opulence of the place. The dimly lit room buzzed with elegantly dressed patrons, completely engrossed in various games of chance and skill. The air was thick with the scent of cigars and expensive perfume, creating an atmosphere of mystery and danger.
“This is crazy,” she said.
“It’s pretty wild, right?”
A woman to our right shrieked, throwing the cards out of her hands and on to the floor. She clearly wasn’t happy about whatever her outcome was.
“Don’t get addicted to gambling,” I said. “Sometimes watching this is sick.”
“Didn’t plan on it.”
One of my men who worked the floor approached us, a concerned look on his face.
“I’m sorry Mr. Renzetti, can I get a moment of your time?” He glanced at Luciana. “In private?”
The two of us were spending time together because I had been a less than perfect new spouse. Leaving her alone again would be a dick move.
“It’s fine,” she said. “I want to explore.”
“I’ll be back soon.”
That idiot could have dealt with the problem by himself. One of our vaults was out of balance by a large sum, which initially rose my blood pressure quite a bit. It turned out there were straps of hundred-dollar bills hidden behind a stolen Van Gogh painting a man had wagered.
I was now out forty-five minutes of quality time with my wife, and she was nowhere to be found.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her golden blonde hair hanging over a seat at the backgammon table. In a player’s seat. What the fuck?
I strolled up to the table and leaned against it.
“What are you up to?” I asked.
“Playing,” she responded.
She was playing against a man whom I believed to be the CEO of a large company. Although he was here relatively often, I knew little about him.
“Mrs. Luciana is an excellent opponent,” the man said.
“Thank you, John!” she beamed at him.
