Page 35 of Kingpin
Dominic
Ialways noticed Lumiere Place Casino & Hotel, but I didn’t appreciate it until now. We approach on Highway 44 so I can see the route we’d be using to bring in merchandise, and you can see the Lumiere from the road. It’s at least twenty stories, with big blue windows that reflect the St. Louis Arch, which can be seen as you stand in front of the entrance to the hotel. It’s a beautiful place, and the look of it makes me want to own it even more. I always loved River City, maybe because my father owned it before I did, but there’s something about Lumiere Place. Something about the location, and the colors, and the proximity to the Arch. It’s just beautiful, and as Tommy and I make our way through the revolving glass door, the inside affects me the same way the outside does. It’s mostly white with brown accents, and there’s a huge picture of the Arch behind the check-in counter. I love it.
“This is a nice fucking place,” Tommy says as we step up to the counter and wait for a clerk to address us.
“Yeah, it is,” I agree. “Never seen the inside before. Now that I have, I want it more than ever.”
“Between this place and River City, you’d be next level, Dominic. I don’t know how you were able to get into all this casino stuff, but it’s impressive. You’ll be set for life if you can couple this up with River City.”
“That’s the plan, right?” I reply. “This isn’t just about my life. It’s about the lives of everybody in my crew. Our kids and their futures, too. We close the deal on this place, and we’re talking aboutour familiesbeing set for life, not just me. We gotta make this happen, Tommy. We can be untouchable.”
“Sounds like you’re trying to become the boss,” Tommy says with a big smile, but I wave him off.
“Fuhgeddaboutit. Frankie’s gonna be the boss, but maybe we can lock us in for the future, and if I get it, you’re coming with me.”
“Don’t get my hopes up, Dominic,” Tommy says with a chuckle.
I’ve never openly talked about what it’d be like to be the boss of The Family, but it’s a position everyone wants. When you’re the boss, everybody in the family has to kick up to you.Everybody. So, for me, if I can get Abram Baskov to stop being a fucking asshole and let me buy him out of the Lumiere, I’d be owner of two hotels, and partner on two more. On top of that, I’d be getting money from everyone in The Family until I die. Tommy’s right, I’d be set, and anybody else I wanted would be set too. I could also have anybody who gets in my way clipped with a snap of my fingers, and no one would ever find the body, and it’d never come back to me, because when you’re the boss, you’re never around when a hit takes place. At least that’s how it should be. Leo and Jimmy had a bad habit of breaking that rule, which is why they’re in the position they’re in now, but I know better than to be thinking about that. Frankie has the position locked in, but I won’t need to be the boss if I can make this deal happen.
“Mr. Baskov is ready for you,” a voice says from behind me. Tommy and I turn around to find a young, clean-shaven black kid in a dark brown suit staring at us. He’s got a bald head and a nametag that says his name is Anthony. “He’s in the lobby to your left.”
“Kinda sneaky, ain’t you?” Tommy says to the guy, who just smiles as we walk towards the lobby.
Tommy and I approach the lobby together, where there’s a few people seated in cream and red plush chairs. Some of them are on their phones, others are clicking away on laptops, but they all look like occupied business people—all except for two.
Standing in front of a table in the exact center of the lobby are two men—one large guy, and one average size guy with black hair that’s styled like he should still be in the eighties. The big guy is tall and heavier set with a bald head that’s covered in tattoos, and a black suit that’s struggling to hold his big body inside of it. The average guy is trying to hide the fact that he’s covered in tattoos too, but they’re still visible as they peek out from under the collar of his black suit when he moves, as if they’re trying to escape. His hands are covered in symbols I can’t recognize from a distance, but I know they’re traditional Russian mafia tats.
I don’t know who the big one is, but the average one is Abram Baskov. His father, Ivan Baskov, was the head of the Russian mafia in Chicago a few years back. But that didn’t end too well, which is why Abram has resettled here in St. Louis.
I can tell from the look of this guy that he’s not someone I’m going to have to worry about. He’s young, only twenty-four, with a five o’clock shadow to try to make himself look older. It doesn’t help though, because even with the hair on his face, the youth is in his eyes. He’s never hurt anyone before and he sleeps well at night. He’s not haunted by the faces of the men he’s killed. He’s not in the lifestyle, he just wants people to think he is because of who his relatives are . . . were.
“Nice to finally meet you, Mr. Collazo,” Abram says as we greet them. He doesn’t extend his hand, so neither do I.
“The pleasure’s mine,” I reply.
“Please. Sit.”
The four of us sit down and order champagne, and a full two minutes goes by before either of us says anything. It’s a test to see who’ll break the silence first, and there’s no chance it’ll be me. We’ll sit in this bitch all night before I speak first.
Finally, Abram relents and speaks up.
“Alright, let’s not waste each other’s time, Mr. Collazo. I know why you’re here,” he says before pausing to sip his champagne. He’s confident. “And your visit is quite unnecessary, because there’s no way I’m selling my casino.”
I exhale to steady myself.
“That’s not the way I hoped this conversation would start, Mr. Baskov,” I begin, making sure to never break eye contact. “I know you have your pride, but you’re a very rich young man. You could buy another casino without me buying you out of this one, so there’s no need for us to start off on the wrong foot.”
“I don’t care what foot we start on. All that matters to me is that you know I’m not selling, and now that I’ve said that to your face and you’ve heard it straight from my mouth, there’s no need for us to continue this conversation.” Just like that, Abram and his goon stand up like they’re leaving.
But they’re not.
I clear my throat.
“You don’t know me very well, and I’d hate for you to get the wrong impression, so it’s important that I’m honest with you,” I begin, crossing one leg over the other. “I’m not impressed by your tattoos, or your little bodyguard in the suit that’s two sizes too small to try to make himself look bigger. I’m also not impressed with your money, especially since the only reason you have any is because you got a nice, fat inheritance and life insurance when your lunatic uncle, Ilia Baskov, murdered your pussy of a father so he could partner up with his enemy, Kelvin Carter, and become boss of the family. Which was completely pointless, because your uncle ended up getting killed in a shootout with Chicago PD anyway. I know you, Abram. You didn’t earn any of this shit, you didn’t work for it. It was handed to you, and I’m not fucking impressed. So, you can spare me the little rich kid attitude, and sit the fuck down before I make a scene in front of all your guests.”
Abram looks stunned, but he looks downright flabbergasted when he glances at Tommy and sees he has his hand in his jacket pocket holding one of his two nine millimeters.
Abram hesitates for a second, before finally exhaling.
