“Good evening, Daniel,” a male voice greeted.
Daniel Wallin spun around in his chair, one hand automatically reaching to press the panic button to call in his security. He didn’t see anyone. Shadows moved in the room, and his heart accelerated to the point he heard it thundering in his ears. He whipped his head from left to right, back and forth for a terrible moment, wondering if he was hearing things. If he was finally really going crazy.
His son was dead. Axel. The only human being that had ever truly loved him. Why had he sent him off with Larsen? Why did he think Axel needed toughening up? Because Axel had feelings and sometimes acted emotionally instead of logically. He’d wanted to stamp that out of him. Instead, Axel was dead and he was losing his mind.
He looked down at his desk. It had no sentimental photographs on it. The walls of his office didn’t have pictures hanging of his son. He hadn’t wanted to give away how he felt to anyone. He refused to be vulnerable in any way. Now, Axel was dead along with Larsen, the one man he’d counted on for years to watch out for Axel.
He swore. “Don’t worry,” he whispered aloud. “I’ll get that bitch for you. All of them. Every single one of them is going to die. No one can escape me, Axel, least of all Liam Gram’s bastard heirs.”
“You do think a lot of yourself, Daniel.” The voice came again, smooth and taunting him with amusement.
He stabbed his finger into the panic button, once more twisting his head frantically from side to side in an effort to see who was speaking to him. The panic button disengaged the locks on his office door, allowing his security team entrance.
“Press away. It’s disabled,” a second voice informed him.
Daniel breathed deep and settled in his chair. He wasn’t going insane—not yet. He wasn’t alone in his enormous office with its private bathroom and bedroom. Sometimes, when he was in the mood, he called down to one of the many women working in various capacities for him to come upstairs and accommodate him.
A few of the women in his employ were paid to entertain his high-end guests or business clients who wanted a female companion for a weekend. The woman had to be discreet because many—or most—of his guests were married and didn’t want the hassle of a wife finding out.
Very slowly, Wallin moved his hand away from beneath his desk. He put his fingers on the edge of the desk, but close to his buttoned suit jacket. These men intruding into his office could be in any of the other rooms. He had an extraordinary talent few knew of. His son, Axel, was the only one he’d voluntarily shared the information with. Axel had a similar talent but it hadn’t been as developed. Daniel needed him to work harder at it if they really were going to build another casino and run it. He would have had to rely on Axel to pull his weight.
His partners—his cousins in the Bottaro family—didn’t know that was why the hotel had been so successful so quickly. Daniel had used his voice to get everything he wanted. The building going up faster. The first-class materials, deliveries when no one else could get them. Daniel had managed it all. Angelo Bottaro, his grandfather, had immediately seen the wisdom of keeping all illegal business out of the casino. He had come to admire and trust Daniel to run things.
Angelo Bottaro was dead and now his son Fredrick ran things. Daniel detested having to answer to a man who continually questioned everything. It wasn’t like Fredrick had fought to bring their family out of the mud and claim territory the way Angelo had.
Daniel was well aware Fredrick had ordered Daniel’s father killed when, as always, in his drunken state, he’d threatened the Bottaros that he’d tell the world Daniel was Angelo’s grandson. He was always asking for money, from Angelo and Daniel. It had been Fredrick who had killed him and left his body beside the dumpster where he always rummaged for food. Daniel was certain Fredrick’s contempt of his father was carried over to him. Still, when he wanted vengeance for Axel, Fredrick had come through, sending a crew to kill Vienna Mortenson and her friends at the Harrison wedding. There was great satisfaction in knowing all the women would be killed and hopefully their relatives as well.
“What do you want? If you’re looking for jobs, you’ll have to apply like everyone else. I’m well aware Larsen’s death left a large hole and opportunity for you men. I admire your ingenuity, but . . .” He lowered his voice an octave and tried to match the flow of the pattern of the voices he’d heard, although it was very little to go on. “You should leave these rooms immediately.”
Daniel waited for a reaction. None came. His heart accelerated. Surely, he wasn’t really losing his mind. Someone was there.
“There’s no need to be afraid. I told you, I do admire ingenuity. It’s how one gets ahead in this world. I’ll put in a good word for you with the security company, that much I can promise you.”
“I haven’t come looking for a job, Wallin,” the first voice said. “What about you?”
The second voice answered, “Don’t like his line of work.”
Wallin cocked his head to one side. The second voice sounded closer to him, maybe in the same room now.
“You don’t like my hotel? The casino? Why wouldn’t you?” He just needed them to talk a little more so he could find the exact rhythm he needed to coerce them into doing his bidding. Sometimes he felt a little like a god. He’d tried to tell Axel that he’d be able to get anything he wanted, from women to money to power. He just had to practice.
“Your hotel is just fine,” the first one said. “The fact that you murder women, including the mother of your son, disturbs us both immensely.”
Daniel stiffened. How could these men possibly know Miriam’s death wasn’t an accident? He’d managed to get rid of the three people who had known for certain.
“My son’s mother died in a car accident.” He feigned outrage. The triumph he felt when he had his son with him exclusively, with no input from Axel’s bleeding-heart mother, swept over him. Maybe she was the reason he had been so hard on Axel, trying to stamp out the worst of her influence and character flaws.
“No, she didn’t, Wallin,” the first voice concluded. “You had her killed so you could raise your son yourself.”
Nowhe recognized the voices. He’d heard them talking several times when his security team brought him tapes of men they suspected were agents for Blom. A bodyguard and an older man who had taken the suite next to Vienna Mortenson.
Wallin’s private detectives had uncovered three women they believed might be Blom’s daughter. The other two women had no indicators at all that they were in any way related to Liam Gram. Vienna had his DNA. She had his mysterious talent at cards. She had roots in Sweden. He had seen it in her photographs. And those eyes. They were a dead giveaway.
“Zale Vizzini and his older friend, although I’m certain you’re agents of Blom’s.”
“Name’s Rainier,” the other voice introduced himself.
It most likely wasn’t a good sign that neither man cared he knew their names. But he wasn’t that concerned. He had his voice and he had more money than either man could possibly dream of. Everyone had a price. He just had to find theirs. If he was really lucky, he could use his voice to get them to kill each other.
“How did you get in?” He kept his tone friendly and without the least alarm, but he was certain he knew the answer. The men must have entered through the vent system—somehow—and they would leave the same way. The large system had been a security concern he’d dismissed because of the miles of vents throughout the hotel and the obstructions built in.
“We’re not here to pass the time with you,” Zale said. “You should have known better than to go after Elliot or Vienna. You’re supposed to be a very intelligent man, but that was on the stupid side.”
Wallin could hear little noises behind his chair, but couldn’t see what was happening. His office was soundproof. All the yelling in the world wouldn’t bring his security team. The door was locked from the inside—he’d locked it himself. A hand came into view, slid inside his jacket and removed his gun and cell phone. Wallin noted the hand—a man’s—wore a thin glove. For some reason, the sight of that glove made his situation seem even worse.
“You need to understand,” Wallin began.
He didn’t like talking to someone he couldn’t see. Deliberately, he spun his chair back around to face his desk. One man lounged on the corner of his desk. Daniel didn’t recognize him but he looked as hard as nails. There was no mercy on his face and he had the eyes of a killer. His arms were folded across his chest as he leveled his piercing gaze on Wallin.
“I have more money than you could possibly imagine, enough to make your every dream come true.” He opened negotiations. Money settled everything. It was just a matter of how much. “I can pay you both millions. I could use a couple of good men like you working for me. Whatever Blom pays you is scraps. Nothing. I can transfer the money to your accounts right now.”
He made a movement toward his keyboard to awaken his computer. He could send out an SOS if he could just get to his messages.