Combined with my rep for killing people with my creations, pissing me off came with dire repercussions.
He cleared his throat. “Should probably warn you, boss, that Graham Brackton Jr. wasn’t happy about us putting a stop to his little peep show and kicking him out but?—”
My ears pricked. “The nepo baby with designs on the next gubernatorial campaign?”
“Yeah, him.”
“Didn’t his dad die recently?”
“Wouldn’t know from—” Luigi hesitated then let loose a snort. “In fact, no, I guess that’d make sense. He ordered three of the Armand de Brignac Rosé Midas 2013 vintage.”
“We sell them for 300k a pop, don’t we?”
“Yup. Wouldn’t do that if you had to justify your allowance to Daddy,” he said slyly.
“Was he with his wife?”
Jackie Van Der Mils was as old money as her husband—the family fortune had come from paper products. She had a rep for being a whack job, but I’d never seen it.
To me, she seemed to be a cowed wife.
“No. One of our hookers.” Luigi rubbed his nose. “Definitely on blow. Maybe Red, considering they were practically fucking in their section. Never mind that they were in a group. It was turning into an orgy before Chad and I broke things up.
“I’ve seen plenty of shit on the streets, Stan, but they mademeblush.”
“You told Rory?”
“Of course. There was plenty of blackmail material there.” Offended, he groused, “What do you take me for?”
“Apparently someone who’ll close off our goddamn VIP section!”
“We had no choice!” he repeated, but he gulped at my annoyance. “And it wasn’t a unilateral decision.”
“What happened?”
“One of the Albanians dragged another VIP onto the dance floor. I separated them and hauled the moron into the bathroom. I managedit without anyone in their circle noticing. Then…” Luigi hesitated. “It went to shit, Capo.
“I’d called in Chad by that time. They started arguing and drew guns on each other. We managed to contain the situation, but Chad didn’t want to make a move without consulting you, seeing as you were on your way.”
“Has anyone on the lower floors noticed the gunfight at the OK Corral?”
“No. We instructed the DJ to play louder than regulation permits, but it’s kept everyone distracted.”
“That’s something at least.”
Luigi nodded as we headed into the staff elevator that’d take us to the VIP section.
“How many Albanians now?”
“One in the restroom. One tried to get him out…” He swallowed. “There may be some damage.”
I sought and failed to find patience. “Great.”
“Then there are twelve?—”
“Roaming around our VIP section?"
Luigi tugged on his ear. “Not exactly roaming, Capo.”
