Page 6 of Sin City Obsession

Alessa’s throat constricted. Her parents started talking over themselves with silly, senseless, oblivious advice he didn’t need. Al began moving out of her line of sight. Finally, as if in a panic, her voice rushed up and words all but exploded from her chest. “Al! Wait, don’t! Don’t go!”

The haze around her swirled, shifting, and Al stopped with a light laugh. “Don’t be jealous, baby sister. You’re doing great yourself, aren’t you?”

Alessa gave a hard shake of her head and reached out, trying to grab hold of his arm, trying to stop him. “No, you don’t understand—”

Al whipped around, suddenly surrounded by volatile energy. “It’s too late though, isn’t it?” His angry question hung in the air, echoing in her ears, as blood began running from his eyes and nose, then his ears. And in the next instant, his head tipped back and his entire body jerked as if taking a fresh round of gunfire. Blood splattered into the air, lingering even when he dropped.

Alessa snapped awake choking on a scream, her eyes burning and her chest heaving. Her vision was blurred and she could hardly breathe as she tried her best to shove the concocted image from her mind.

It wasn’t like she’d even seen his body after the accident that had killed him. She only knew her brother had been in a terrible accident, that the SUV had rolled, and the gang responsible had gone to the trouble of shooting him up like Swiss cheese before he could even lift his gun to defend himself.

Shescooted up until her back was pressed into the headboard, pulled her knees to her chest, and let out a strangled sob.

Her brother had died shortly before Valentine’s Day. It was early June already, but that wasn’t enough time. There would never be enough time.

Her brother’s death had been a tragedy, yes. A tragedy made worse, for her, because she’d been away on a job when it happened. She’d left town for forty-eight hours, and in those two days, her entire world had changed.

Alessa blew out a hard breath and shoved from the bed. The faintly glowing display of her phone indicated her alarm wouldn’t be going off for a while yet, so, once more, she went ahead and turned it off. She didn’t know why she even set the thing anymore.

There was still some time to kill before the restaurant opened downstairs, so she took herself down to the main floor of her suite, put some music on, and started in on a makeshift exercise routine. The hotel probably had a gym, but there wasn’t much sense in her seeking it out. A round of push-ups, crunches, wall lunges, and some air-boxing was more than enough. Once she’d worked up a good sweat, out of breath for an acceptable reason, she jogged up the steps—extra leg work—for a quick, admittedly nice, shower.

It was 5:31 in the morning when she looked at her phone again. Ignazio had told her to text him before she went down to the restaurant, so she chewed on her guilt and opened her text app.

Going for breakfast now.

As soon as she clicked send she immediately cursed herself. The least she could have done was add a ‘good morning’ to the obnoxiously early message. But the damage was done. She wasn’t going to send a second with the greeting, that would make things awkward.

Alessa hiked her purse up to her shoulder and paused again, before turning and forcing her feet to carry her over to the window wall. From the way the sky had begun to lighten, it was easy to see she would have a spectacular view of the sunrise—or the sunset—if she wanted. The view was probably majestic. She felt tears sting her eyes as she looked over the skyline for another moment, and she let herself whisper, “Watch over me, big brother.”

Then she drew a deep, steadying breath, put her back to the view, and strode from the room. She wasn’t there for a view or for any soul-searching. She had a job to do.

Chapter three

Getting Started

The ground floor ofCavallo’s Casino & Hotel was, of course, primarily casino. But they had a wide, soundproofed hall effectively separating the casino space from the hotel lobby and available guest amenities. The layout offered a modicum of sanity for those who might not be so interested in wading through the ceaseless cacophony of a smoke-filled money pit. Or it should have, but apparently it also provided opportunity.

As Alessa passed the propped-open casino doors, enroute to the hotel restaurant, a frail-looking forty-something woman with loose dark blonde curls stepped into the hall. The woman was a few inches shorter than Alessa’s five-foot-six, and drowning in a shapeless muumuu. Black tights, or yoga pants, peeked out beneath the calf-length hem of the brighter, sunshine-patterned fabric, and the woman carried an off-white tote over her shoulder.

The woman smiled straight at Alessa. It wasn’t the kind of smile generally offered in passing, and she wasted no time opening her mouth. “Oh, good morning,” she greeted, her voice dripping saccharine.

Alessa felt her lips dip into a frown. She really had no obligation to even offer passing civilities to this stranger.

Before she could turn to continue on her way, the woman spoke again. “You look lost, dear.” The woman took a small step closer and extended an arm in a slow reach. “Would you like a bit of guidance?”

Alessa moved back, taking herself out of reach. “I know exactly where I’m going. Keep your hands to yourself.” Who the hell was this pushy woman?

“Oh, if that were true, you wouldn’t be traipsing these despondent halls, now would you?”

“Excuse me?” Alessa shook her head, irritation flashing through her. She held up a hand as the woman opened her mouth again. “No, shut up. Save whatever sales pitch you’re working on; it’s only pissing me off.” She turned on her heel as the woman sucked in a scandalized breath and stomped away.

“It’s not too late!” the woman shouted after her. “He can still save you!”

Alessa almost turned around.What the fuck?She’d expected to run into a few crazies in Las Vegas, sure, but not in the main hall of the hotel where she was staying, and sure as hell not before she’d had a drop of caffeine. If this was any indication of what she could expect for the rest of her stay, she could not wait to get back to Jersey.

She was half surprised no one had gathered by the restaurant door to stare out, or that no one was sliding her surreptitious looks. But none of the five seated patrons or any of the visible staff seemed to pay her undo attention. That was preferable, really.

She took a seat at a booth against the far wall, ordered a cup of coffee, and skimmed over the menu in search of something appetizing. The waitress had just finished writing up her order when Rocco slid into the booth across from her.

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