Page 15 of Bellini Born
Playing it off, I scoffed. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Enzo rocked back on his heels, teasing, “Sure you don’t, Boss.” A smirk curved onto his lips. “Care to explain your sudden interest in the girl, then?”
My chin jerked toward the hospital bed. “She saved Bianca’s life. I owe her a debt.”
The humor on his face faded away, replaced by a grim expression. “Yeah, I suppose you do. Not sure how you’re gonna pull that one off, though. A life for a life usually means taking one. In this case, you owe her a life.”
“Haven’t gotten that far yet,” I confessed, scanning the printed documents in my hands.
There had to be something here. Some way I could repay her. Hopefully, in a way that would put her directly in my path.
I cataloged every bit of information about Summer Reynolds.
She was twenty-two years old, born on July 16th.
She had no father listed on her birth certificate. Mother Trina Reynolds resided in a trailer park in a rural part of southern Illinois, with a record of accepting government assistance, which had dried up considerably once Summer turned eighteen.
There were several snapshots of records she’d broken at various swim clubs as a youth and preteen, but there weren’t any from high school.
She’d been a student-athlete at Northwestern, where she joined the swim team as a walk-on while earning a degree in communications.
That’s where I hit paydirt.
She was sitting on two hundred thousand dollars in student loans. From what I could tell, the six-month grace period on repayment had ended last month, and she’d already failed to make her first payment. Couldn’t say I was exactly surprised when I saw the pay stubs from the diner she worked at in theSouth Side of Chicago. It was a miracle she could afford to pay rent, let alone eat, with how little she earned.
That kind of cash was a drop in the bucket for me, but for Summer, it would be life changing. The shackles of debt would be instantly released, and she would be set free. Some might even say it would save her life.
Closing the file, I handed it to Enzo with a command. “Pay off her student loans.”
He whistled low, shaking his head. “Damn, I didn’t even think of that. Fucking genius.”
“Make sure she knows exactly where the money came from.”
Absolving her massive debt anonymously wouldn’t do me any good. I wanted a paper trail that would lead her directly back to me.
Because I wasn’t done with Summer Reynolds. Not even close.
The casino staff were seated in a line of metal chairs, their eyes wide as I paced before them inside the concrete room.
Their fear hung so thick in the air, it was a wonder I didn’t choke on it when I sucked in a deep breath before announcing, “Someone has been stealing from me.”
Several gasps rang out, like the mere idea of taking from the Bellinis was unimaginable. Luckily for them, I knew exactly who had been skimming off the top, but I wasn’t about to let them know that and ruin the little show I had planned. Especially, when its main objective was to scare the rest of them shitless so they never got the same idea into their heads.
Sometimes, it was better to be feared than loved. And this was one of those times.
Stopping dead in my tracks, I took the time to look each one of them in the eye. “Seven. Hundred. Thousand. Dollars.”
A couple of the men set before me visibly paled when they heard the amount that had been taken. It was a hefty sum, but when we pulled in upwards of thirty million a month, that idiot Dante probably thought it wouldn’t be missed when we checked the books. Too bad for him, I had a much sharper eye for finance than my older brother. It likely would have taken Gio far longer to notice the siphoning of funds, and the amount taken might’ve grown even larger as a result.
“Do any of you feel like you’re unfairly compensated?” I challenged, eyebrow arched.
Everyone present shook their heads, murmuring various sentiments that they were more than adequately paid, that they were loyal to the Bellinis.
“Hmm.” I shook my head, clicking my tongue in disappointment. “If that were true, then I wouldn’t be missing money, now, would I?”
My eyes locked on Dante’s. A line of sweat trickled down from his temple, but other than that, he didn’t make a move to give himself away.
Honestly, I was surprised no one had tried to run. They weren’t tied down, and the imminent promise of punishment—of death—was enough to have anyone’s fight-or-flight response kicking in, regardless of whether or not they were guilty. It was human nature to prioritize self-preservation.
