delayed,’ he answered, waving off a determined blonde with painful-looking nipple rings enhancing her overly large fake breasts.
‘What? I can’t hear you.’
‘I’ll call you back.’
‘No. I’m going to sleep. Call me tomorrow.’
‘Will do.’ He clicked off. Nothing worse than an unsatisfactory end to the evening.
Chapter Twelve
A n army of hard-working executives made sure that The Keys ran as smoothly as possible considering there was a workforce of thousands. From the Head of Security to the woman in charge of Guest Relations, everyone pitched in, for Lucky had made sure there were plenty of incentives for every employee – whatever their position – to do their best.
When she’d built the hotel she’d put together a syndicate of investors who all held equal shares in the private company she’d created. Very soon she hoped that her investors would begin receiving money back. The Keys was doing well, but the initial investment was monumental, and the downturn in the economy was not helpful. However, the casino was one of the most successful in Vegas – thanks to a band of casino hosts who were the best in the business. The hotel was usually at 90 per cent capacity, plus the apartments had been selling for record-breaking prices.
Lucky was satisfied with the way things were going. The Keys was her child – her love child – created from her desire to build the perfect oasis in Las Vegas, the city where she’d first made her mark when she’d taken over the building of Gino’s hotel after he’d been forced to leave the country as a tax exile.
There were good memories and bad ones. Gino’s money men had refused to deal with a woman, so in the middle of the night she’d paid one of them a visit, held a knife to his balls, and demanded he paid up – otherwise she’d be back to cut ’em off!
Surprise, surprise – he’d paid! Oh yes, that was a fun memory.
Not so funny was remembering Marco, her fiancé, who’d been gunned down next to the hotel swimming pool. And her brother, Dario, murdered and tossed from a moving car.
Lucky refused to dwell on the past. After taking a suitable revenge, she’d moved forward. It was the only way to survive.
The Keys was her tribute to Marco, Dario, and her beautiful mother Maria, another victim of a brutal crime.
Lucky often wondered if Max had any idea about their family history. Max never asked questions, she didn’t seem interested. One day Lucky planned on sitting her down and telling her everything. Max needed to know the battles the Santangelos had gone through and emerged from triumphant. And she had to be made aware of their famous motto – Never fuck with a Santangelo .
So far Lennie had prevented her from filling Max in on the family saga. ‘Let her grow up first,’ he’d said. ‘There’s plenty of time.’
Lennie Golden. Her husband. The best man on the planet. When she’d first met him he was a stand-up comedian at her hotel. She’d propositioned him. He’d turned her down. And when they’d next run into each other, she was married to Greek shipping billionaire Dimitri Stanislopoulos, and by some weird coincidence, he was married to Dimitri’s spoiled daughter, Olympia. A crazy situation.
But in the end it had all worked out and she could honestly say that Lennie was the love of her life. They were compatible in every way. True soulmates.
Before setting off for Vegas, she peeked in on Max who was still asleep. Her child appeared so innocent when she was sleeping. Long-lashed eyelids covering brilliant green eyes, dark curly hair fanning out over the pillow.
Lucky stared at Max for a moment, remembering the day she was born, and Lennie’s expression when he’d held his daughter for the first time. They’d named her Maria after Lucky’s mother – a name Max changed in her teens because she felt Max was more her. So little Maria had become little Max. The new name suited her style, she’d always been an assertive child
‘What? I can’t hear you.’
‘I’ll call you back.’
‘No. I’m going to sleep. Call me tomorrow.’
‘Will do.’ He clicked off. Nothing worse than an unsatisfactory end to the evening.
Chapter Twelve
A n army of hard-working executives made sure that The Keys ran as smoothly as possible considering there was a workforce of thousands. From the Head of Security to the woman in charge of Guest Relations, everyone pitched in, for Lucky had made sure there were plenty of incentives for every employee – whatever their position – to do their best.
When she’d built the hotel she’d put together a syndicate of investors who all held equal shares in the private company she’d created. Very soon she hoped that her investors would begin receiving money back. The Keys was doing well, but the initial investment was monumental, and the downturn in the economy was not helpful. However, the casino was one of the most successful in Vegas – thanks to a band of casino hosts who were the best in the business. The hotel was usually at 90 per cent capacity, plus the apartments had been selling for record-breaking prices.
Lucky was satisfied with the way things were going. The Keys was her child – her love child – created from her desire to build the perfect oasis in Las Vegas, the city where she’d first made her mark when she’d taken over the building of Gino’s hotel after he’d been forced to leave the country as a tax exile.
There were good memories and bad ones. Gino’s money men had refused to deal with a woman, so in the middle of the night she’d paid one of them a visit, held a knife to his balls, and demanded he paid up – otherwise she’d be back to cut ’em off!
Surprise, surprise – he’d paid! Oh yes, that was a fun memory.
Not so funny was remembering Marco, her fiancé, who’d been gunned down next to the hotel swimming pool. And her brother, Dario, murdered and tossed from a moving car.
Lucky refused to dwell on the past. After taking a suitable revenge, she’d moved forward. It was the only way to survive.
The Keys was her tribute to Marco, Dario, and her beautiful mother Maria, another victim of a brutal crime.
Lucky often wondered if Max had any idea about their family history. Max never asked questions, she didn’t seem interested. One day Lucky planned on sitting her down and telling her everything. Max needed to know the battles the Santangelos had gone through and emerged from triumphant. And she had to be made aware of their famous motto – Never fuck with a Santangelo .
So far Lennie had prevented her from filling Max in on the family saga. ‘Let her grow up first,’ he’d said. ‘There’s plenty of time.’
Lennie Golden. Her husband. The best man on the planet. When she’d first met him he was a stand-up comedian at her hotel. She’d propositioned him. He’d turned her down. And when they’d next run into each other, she was married to Greek shipping billionaire Dimitri Stanislopoulos, and by some weird coincidence, he was married to Dimitri’s spoiled daughter, Olympia. A crazy situation.
But in the end it had all worked out and she could honestly say that Lennie was the love of her life. They were compatible in every way. True soulmates.
Before setting off for Vegas, she peeked in on Max who was still asleep. Her child appeared so innocent when she was sleeping. Long-lashed eyelids covering brilliant green eyes, dark curly hair fanning out over the pillow.
Lucky stared at Max for a moment, remembering the day she was born, and Lennie’s expression when he’d held his daughter for the first time. They’d named her Maria after Lucky’s mother – a name Max changed in her teens because she felt Max was more her. So little Maria had become little Max. The new name suited her style, she’d always been an assertive child
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