Page 45 of Maximum Bet

The midday sun beats down on Las Vegas, but that doesn’t stop drunken tourists from meandering The Strip. I stare out the penthouse windows, watching people move from casino to casino. If I didn’t have to be supervised by an army of guards, I would call Sadie to see if she wants to meet me at Il Palazzo’s pool.

Okay, so maybe I’m being dramatic. It wouldn’t be an actual army. Maybe a squadron?

“I’m thinking of adding lilies to the centerpieces.” Natalie interrupts my internal complaint session. “We’ve obviously got the roses in there, but I think lilies would give the floral arrangements a nice romantic vibe.”

She looks up hopefully, and I nod, forcing a smile.

To be honest, I don’t care. I want to marry Dominic and have all the planning over with. If we could go to a chapel tomorrow and have Elvis officiate, I would probably be okay with that.

All right, maybe not.

I have always dreamed of walking down the aisle in a beautiful dress with Pachelbel’sCanon in Dplaying in thebackground. The issue is, I never thought I’d be planning a Mafia wedding. Each detail of this wedding has to be perfect, down to the silverware and napkins.

“I feel like you’re not totally into this.” Natalie closes her design book.

“I’m sorry.” I leave my perch by the living room windows and sink down on the other end of the couch. “It’s overwhelming. You know?”

“Cassie, I have an idea.” She begins collecting her notes and catalogs. “What if I put a couple of design concepts together, and you choose which one you like best?”

“Really?” I sit up straighter, her idea giving me hope that I’ll make it through the planning after all.

“I know this isn’t your thing,” Natalie says. “Let me do what I do best, and we’ll go from there.”

“Oh, my God,” I say, launching myself toward her for a hug. “You don’t understand how much stress that takes off me.”

Natalie chuckles as she pats my back. “I think I’m getting the idea.”

Pulling back, I help her collect the remainder of her things.

“Let’s meet next week. I’ll have the cake decorator come with tasters. Dominic might want to be there for the samples.” She winks. We stand, and I lead her to the door.

“Looking forward to next week.”

She waves as she passes through the foyer toward the elevators.

Retreating into the penthouse, I let out a sigh of relief. That’s one stressor down. If only there were answers to the rest.

Well, mainly one.

While Dominic works to neutralize the threat from our enemies, he has left me out of the loop. I’m on a need-to-know basis, which is driving me crazy. With the wedding planning weighingon me and work turning into a shit show, I’m one step away from checking myself into the mental ward.

I can’t control the Romano-Tariello business, so that leaves one thing I do have a say in.

Dance.

My quest to learn hip-hop is going better than I thought. Jaxon works hard with Whitney and me, urging us to loosen up. I’ve got the moves, that’s not the issue. It’s the perfect ballerina posture and graceful transitions that were beaten into me for decades.

He’s patient, and I love working with him, but I’m still not sure I’m performance-ready. Judging by Zachary’s arched brow and eye roll when he tried hip-hop choreography with us last week, he doesn’t think I am either.

I pull a sparkling water from the fridge and sit down at the kitchen bar. With the intention of scrolling social media to take my mind off things, I pull my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. Before I unlock the screen, I notice a few text messages that came through during my meeting with Natalie.

I go to my text app and open Dominic’s thread.

I’ll have a break in an hour. Lunch?

How about Middle Eastern?

He’s talking about the featured restaurant at Pharaoh’s Temple that we haven’t tried yet. Dominic had a preview with the head chef before the hotel opened to approve the menu, but he told me he needs to go in and get the full experience.