Moving on to count the money in the register, she heard the doors being opened.
"I'm sorry, we're still closed," she said without looking up. Sometimes people saw her through the window and wanted to order, not realizing that there was a little time left before she opened the diner.
"I believe you can make an exception," Savannah heard a voice with a strong accent that she immediately recognized as Russian. Slavic accents were very recognizable. Many people from those regions came to the States, looking for a better life. Sometimes it happened, sometimes they ended up worse. In her own apartment complex, there were two Estonian girls, however, their dream jobs turned out to be escorts as their last resort.
Her head shot up and she saw a familiar face. A man that had most certainly come in the diner to eat a few times already in the last month. He had always been dressed casually, yet he appeared to be different right now and it made Savannah shiver. He had black hair and brown eyes. His skin was pale; almost white. The man was somewhat too tall for his build. It was as if he stopped growing only to be stretched on one of those medieval racks a half-foot more. She couldn't help but wonder how many jokes and comments about his stature he got daily, jibes about "the air being thin up there".
It almost made her laugh. Even though she could feel that the atmosphere changed between them. Savannah thought that men in suits were supposed to be more trustworthy. Yet as she met both Elio and now this man, she was certain that perhaps the cover is what could pull all the girls in for certain death. Because that's how she felt right now. And while she could see herself risk more with Elio, the stranger in front of her made her want to run.
"I need to talk to the owner," he said.
What the fuck had Hunter got himself into?
Her throat went dry as if she hadn't drunk for at least a few days. Palms started to get sweaty. "He is not going to be in today."
The man looked at her, possibly analyzing whether she was lying. She wasn't but at this point, she even started to doubt her own words. Savannah couldn't believe that she would much rather sit in a goddamned car with Elio Conte right now than spend a second more with the Russian. She hoped that he would stop coming here; especially as a customer. Otherwise, she would change tables with another waitress at once.
Maybe she was exaggerating. After all, she’d been on edge since yesterday and now any person could trigger her instincts. Whether they were right or not.
"Spasibo," he murmured 'thank-you' and with a simple nod, he left.
Chapter Eight
It had been three months since the diner incident. Really long and busy months during which Elio could barely catch a break. His days consisted of paying visits to most owners of his Father's establishments to get the money, long fighting sessions with his brother and nights out with Flavio, fucking and drinking their lives away in clubs and bars. Occasionally staying in, ordering take-out and watching football matches.
He had finally found an apartment close to the center of Las Vegas so that he could still keep tabs on everything and get his job done quickly. It wasn't much, however, with the money he was being paid as an Enforcer, it was the best he could find. Especially since the prices in the city were over the top. One-bedroom apartment with a big living room connected to the kitchen was enough. As long as he didn't have to spend another day with his Father in the house he was all set.
This night, however, he had to change his plans. At exactly eight in the evening, Elio stepped into the foyer of the Bellagio and went straight to the lounge area where the meeting with the Capo was supposed to be. His father and brother were already waiting there, talking to another Capodecina of the Las Vegas Famiglia - Coluccio Guerra. The men were visibly nervous, talking in hushed voices, speculating as to why they had been called there last minute. And not just Noah Falcone’s captains but also their male family members. It had never happened before. Not even with the former Capo dei Capi.
There were many people present and they all had those confused expressions which they tried to cover but failed miserably. Elio couldn’t have mistaken them for anything else. Noah didn’t give a fuck about many things. Not enough to call for so many of his people. And they all had in mind that there was only one other time that it had happened - when he took over the position and condemned many to death. He called it "a deep cleaning of the Famiglia".
The lounge was huge. It had four exits, each guarded by three bodyguards. Whoever came in couldn’t leave. At least not until the Capo appeared and said his piece. Some of the men were sitting, anxiously watching the doors. The inside was modernly decorated, white and black colors dominating.
”Father is shitting his pants that it has something to do with his delays in paying,” said Fabro, coming up right next to his twin. However, he wasn’t looking at him and pretended not to be even talking.
Elio rolled his eyes. Noah Falcone had been untamed ever since coming into power, killing his men left and right for any reason. Weeding out the traitors and those who were susceptible to become one. No surprise if the old man was one of the suspected bastards. However, calling all the captains with their sons wasn’t spelling out such intentions.
”There are surely more pressing matters than that. Falcone has more fucking money than he can count,” he explained and moved further through
