Page 1 of Forgotten Sacrifice
Prologue
Vince, a few years ago…
“Ladies and gentlemen, we’ve got one for the record books. The fourth overtime begins now,” the broadcaster announces.
I sip my water, watching calmly as New York get the tip. I’ve balanced the books so damn good, I’m getting paid regardless of which team wins.
Now my bettors, on the other hand, aren’t quite as calm. In fact, the man at the end of the bar looks like he might pass out.
Scratch that; he just passed out.
I jerk my head at the bartender, and he drags the unconscious man out. My bettor probably shouldn’t wager next month’s paycheck on the underdog, but who am I to judge his questionable decisions?
Making my way through the social club, I get cornered by one of my own questionable decisions. “Vincenzo, I thought we were having dinner tonight.” Sophie places her hands on my chest, rubbing up and down.
I inwardly sigh. “You know I’m working.”
She pouts. “All work and no play.”
Makes Vincenzo a good bookie.“Sophie, I’ve got business to take care of.”
“But—”
“No buts,” I tell her firmly, removing her hands from my chest. “I’ll call you next week.” I kiss her and take off before she can argue.
Unlocking my office door, I flip on the light and take a seat behind my desk. No sooner have I done so when a knock on my door sounds. I swear to God if it’s Sophie…but I’m surprised to find Romeo Parisi’s menacing presence on the security feed.
“Come in,” I call, and the family’s underboss walks into my office. “Hey, bossman. Didn’t know you were in AC.” We greet each other with a double cheek kiss.
“Handling some business with Sergio,” Romeo says matter-of-factly, and I motion to the chair across from my desk. He takes a seat, reaching in his suit pocket and producing a folded document. “The bill we’ve been watching.” He slides it across my desk. “Just passed in the House and General Assembly; on its way to the governor’s desk.”
“No! What about our political greaser?” I rub the back of my neck. “I thought he was gonna handle this!”
“As did I. He’s being dealt with as we speak,” Romeo says in an ice-cold tone.
“What about the governor?” I ask, a desperate edge to my voice.
“Not enough pull on this one. Sports betting will be legal in Jersey come Monday morning,” he warns me.
I bring my hands to my head in disbelief. “What the fuck am I supposed to do? Legalized gambling will sink my entire operation!”
“What the family has always done when the government horns in on our action. Diversify,” Romeo tells me bluntly.
“This is my entire life; I can’t diversify!”
“Years ago, when AC opened casinos, did it hurt our bottom line?” Romeo asks, and I don’t answer, not in the mood for a family history lesson. “Sure it did, but I had to walk through a packed gambling hall to get to your office, despite casinos open 24/7 just down the street. Some men will always prefer a den of vice to the sterilized version.”
“Not when they can turn their living room into a den of vice with a sportsbook app at their fingertips,” I counter.
Romeo shrugs. “So you pivot.”
I run my hand down my face. “I’m not a fucking point guard. And speaking of point guards, you want to get in on the hoops action? I’ll let you in early on Game 3. New York -6, Boston -6.”
Romeo barks a laugh, walking to the door. “Go hustle someone else.”
“Love to, if not for this!” I wave the legislation.
Tossing the documents in the trash, I turn on the security feed to my bookkeeping center of operations. It’s a bustling scene: runners hustling in paper betting slips while my bookies frantically take bets over the phones. A fucking kingdom I’ve spent years building, and come Monday, I get to watch it crumble to dust.
