“But you need protection—” he begins.
“And you can take your pick, if you like. Train him up for me. But I want you as Underboss from now on.”
Still bewildered, Angelo opens and shuts his mouth a few times, and then habit takes over. “Whatever you say, Boss.”
I give him a weary grin. “Whatever I say.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Luca
We arrive in Las Vegas safe and sound, and hands have been greased to make our arrival as private as it could be until we melt into the crowd.
“I really love you,” Finch whispers in my ear as we wait in line for a taxi like any other two tourists. His hoodie falls down and I yank it back up to cover the golden hair; maybe while he’s here he should dye it plain brown or something.
No. No, I don’t think I could stand that.
“I love you too, angel,” I tell him, and kiss him softly.
From the corner of my eye, I see a smiling woman tracking us with her phone.
I hate the way modern surveillance works. The Feds don’t even have to do any work these days, just trawl social media with facial recognition software.
I plaster a simper on my face, and motion the woman over.
Ignoring Finch’s muttered,What the fuck?, I greet her. “Hey there! My partner and I are here for a babymoon. You know, before we pick up our baby from the surrogate?”
“Oh, my God, you guys arejust so cutetogether,” the woman gushes. “I couldn'tresisttaking a photo of that romantic kiss.”
“I don't blame you,” Finch gushes right back. He’s sharp. “My rainbow life-partner is justthemost precious teddy bear you'll ever meet.” He slings and arm around my neck and hangs off me, grinning like a lunatic.
“I wonder if I could get a copy of that photo as a memento?” I ask, before Finch really starts overdoing it.
“Oh,sure,” she says, “What's your email address? Or I can tag you when I post it.”
“Here, I'll just send it to myself.” I take her phone from her before she can argue, and promptly delete the photograph. “Oh, shoot,” I say.
“Oh,baby,” Finch groans. “Did you do that again?” He rolls his eyes at the woman. “He's justterriblewith technology.”
“Sorry,” I tell her, pushing the phone back into her hand. I nudge Finch into the taxi that’s pulled up to the curb, tugging down my cap low and reminding Finch to pull his hoodie up.
“What the fuck is wrong with people?” I ask as the taxi takes off.
* * *
We getto the Strip as night falls. Finch is glued to the window, watching the famous hotels and casinos go by, and I feel like I’ve made the right choice with this city, potential temptations notwithstanding.
Driving down the Strip, I have to fight the urge to pull my cap down lower again. At least it's dark outside, but you wouldn't be able to tell if you didn't know. The night is all different colors here: pink and green, blue and gold, everything is lit up. But seeing Finch’s excitement, I know I made the right choice.
As long as Sonny Vegas doesn't execute us as soon as we walk into his hotel.
Sonny runs several outfits in the city, but the Blue Luna Lux is his flagship casino and hotel. It occupies prime real estate near some of the more established places, built over the remnants of one of Vegas’s oldest and most famous casinos that was demolished last year. For a Vegas joint, it's actually pretty restrained, built like a mock Parthenon and bathed in an eerie blue from surrounding spotlights. Inside, the recessed marble ceilings are suffused in a similar pale blue glow around the edges, making it feel like the moon itself is suspended above us.
We enter the hotel and give our fake names at the desk. The receptionist calls the concierge over, and he takes over from her.
“We are truly honored to have you as our guests, Mr. and Mr. Black. Your gracious host, Mr. Vegas, has asked me to ensure your comfort while you are with us. I'll show you up to your room myself. Please, leave your bags here, and I'll have them taken up shortly.
“We’ll take our bags with us,” Finch contradicts him.
