Fratelli: The Awakening (The Vampire Cartel #1)

28. Trip to Vegas

Chapter 28

Trip to Vegas

B aton Rouge, Louisiana

April 14, 2018

(8 Days Before Death)

“Why are you here?” Russell asked.

“My name is Tristan. I work for Lucio Di Salvo. He’s the man your sister is dating.”

“I know who he is,” Russell replied, his voice edged with suspicion. “She told me about a two-day trip to Vegas.”

Tristan’s smile was cool and calculating. “Exactly. My… boss would like to extend the same invitation to you.”

“What does that mean? Extend? They’ll be back in two days,” Russell reasoned.

Tristan studied the man before him, mentally comparing the reality with the image he had crafted in his mind. Dolly’s brother, her adopted brother, was a surprise. The young man was out of sync with the life Dolly had described. Russell was supposed to be twenty-three or twenty-four, yet he looked startlingly young, almost like a high schooler. The wheelchair added a layer of fragility, but there was a fire in his eyes that defied the narrative. Despite his disability, Russell presented a quiet, unyielding confidence, one that challenged Tristan’s expectations and forced him to reconsider his approach.

“She’s spoken to my boss about your talents,” Tristan said.

“What talents?” Russell asked.

“You’re a gamer, right? Have you heard about the Salvo Gamer Con?” Tristan asked. He waited and watched closely for the reaction needed to sway the kid.

Russell’s eyes widened in disbelief. The walls he’d erected faltered. “Are you kidding me? It’s the biggest streamer event in the world! They haven’t even released the dates or location yet. When they do, it sells out in minutes. This year, Buckeye and Deek-The-Destroyer will host competitions on my top three. Rumor has it they might move it somewhere far—like Finland.”

Tristan’s smile deepened. “No. It’s been decided. The news drops today. In a day, it’ll be in Vegas. Limited attendance and seating. Those lucky enough to attend are already there. Ready for the explosive Gamer-con. That’s how secretive and selective it is. Only the big players will be shoulder-to-shoulder for this one. Di Salvo Entertainment wants to elevate fan participation but knows the real stars—the gamers—need to be in their zone without interruption. It’s going to be the biggest sneak attack ever. We’re thinking of doing something different. Maybe let the fans get in on the action, hosting alongside the pros. Interested?”

Russell’s breath hitched; excitement surged through him like an electric current. “Fuck… are you serious?”

“I never kid,” Tristan replied. His gaze swept the modest living room with a calculated air. “Can I help you pack? We need to be at the airport within the hour.”

“I… I just can’t. Wait, let me call Dolly,” Russell stammered, reaching for his phone.

“She’s in the air. Probably halfway to Vegas by now,” Tristan informed him, his voice firm. “We need to hurry. If you decline, we’ll have to find someone else. We need access to your social media to do the sneak release of the information. Change your life.”

Russell’s mind raced, torn between the overwhelming opportunity and unfamiliar territory. “Man, this is a lot. No wonder she’s so into your boss. I guess I can throw some things together. But I need my equipment. I have a stream tonight.”

Tristan’s expression remained unchanged; his confidence never wavered. “We’ve got everything you need where we’re headed. And if you like, you can break the news to your community before we make the official announcement. Set it on fire. Do you want to be famous?”

“Yes… yes!” Russell nodded. The thrill of it all made him bubble with excitement. It was a rush like nothing he’d ever felt, a chance to step into a world he’d only dreamed of. He maneuvered his wheelchair with swift determination. “Give me ten minutes. I’ll be ready in ten minutes!”

Tristan watched him go. A rare smile tugged at his lips. Liking someone as quickly as he had taken to Russell was uncommon for him, and the feeling was oddly unsettling. He glanced at his watch, time slipping away faster than he liked. He needed to wrap this up and get to Vegas.

Lamont’s gaze shifted. He caught sight of Tristan as he emerged from the townhouse. He assisted a young man in a wheelchair down the ramp. Tristan carried a duffle bag and a backpack, guiding Russell with a surprising gentleness. Lamont frowned, but his curiosity piqued. This was not the Tristan he knew—a vampire-turned-driver-turned-gangster showing compassion was the last thing he expected. As the car door opened, Lamont slid over and made room.

Tristan carefully lifted Russell into the backseat. He placed the backpack in his lap before closing the door. Lamont’s frown deepened; confusion swirled in his mind.

“Hey, I’m Russell, but everyone calls me Russ,” the young man offered his voice upbeat despite the tension in the air.

Lamont didn’t respond. His gaze lingered on Russell with an unreadable intensity. Russell, however, seemed unfazed, as if accustomed to being stared at.

“So, we’re going to Vegas, huh? Never been. I’m excited, though,” Russell said.

Tristan tossed the duffle bag into the trunk and slid behind the wheel. The SUV roared to life, and within minutes they were on the expressway, the city blurred into the distance. Russell, ever resourceful, fished out a pair of earbuds from his backpack with his more capable hand and settled in. Lamont watched, grudgingly impressed by his self-sufficiency.

Russell fiddled with his phone. “Excuse me, but I don’t have a signal. My phone isn’t working,” he said.

Tristan glanced at him through the rearview mirror but said nothing. His focus returned to the road ahead.

“This truck is wired,” Lamont interjected, his voice low.

“It has Wi-Fi?” Russell asked his innocence almost disarming.

“Nah, man. Wired. Bulletproof windows, blacked out inside, and no one can get out unless he let them,” Lamont replied, his tone carried an ominous weight.

“Oh, okay,” Russell said, then paused. He studied Lamont’s face with growing curiosity. “Don’t I know you? You look familiar.”

“We don’t know each other, bro,” Lamont muttered. He slumped down in his seat; his patience had worn thin.

“Do you work for Di Salvo Entertainment? Are you a streamer?” Russell pressed; his enthusiasm undeterred.

Lamont’s glare could have cut steel, but he held his temper and turned his attention to the window instead.

“Well… I guess it’s going to be a long trip,” Russell mumbled. He retreated into his thoughts.

“If you knew what I know, you wouldn’t be going,” Lamont muttered under his breath, his words barely audible. Russell either didn’t hear him or ignored the warning. The rest of the ride passed in heavy silence, the atmosphere thick with unspoken tension.

The SUV pulled up directly to the terminal. Two airline employees awaited their arrival, ready to assist. As the door opened, a man with a wheelchair stepped forward to help. Tristan exited the vehicle and ensured that Russell and the luggage were escorted inside. Lamont, his mood darkened, watched as Tristan began to walk back to the SUV.

“Hey man, what the fuck? We flying commercial? You know I’m hot right now. People will be all over me,” Lamont said.

And he was right. Passersby were already pulling out their phones to film him. Tristan paused; his gaze sharp as he looked back.

“I’ll see you on the plane. They’ll escort you to the gate. I need to park the ride,” Tristan said, his tone left no room for argument.

With that, he was gone. Lamont turned to find Russell with a wide grin. “And we’re off!” Russell declared, his excitement undiminished.

The attendant wheeled Russell through the automatic doors, while Lamont was left to carry the duffle bag and backpack, grumbling under his breath. He endured the stares; the people approaching him for pictures or offering condolences, and kept his head bowed as most just filmed him with their cellphones.

The airport staff guided them through a private area, whisked them through security, and offered them the option to board first, where premium seating awaited them. Tristan was one of the last to board, sliding into a seat across from them, his dark sunglasses obscuring his eyes.

Lamont glanced at Russell, who seemed at ease, oblivious to the undercurrents that swirled around them.

What if Bro knew there were vampires in the world? He’d shit his pants and cry like a bitch, Lamont thought, biting back a grim smile. Tristan, silent and still, stared straight ahead, lost in his own thoughts.

What if the pilot knew a crazy vampire who liked to drive people around and rip hearts from chests was on board? Would he still take off?

Tristan’s head dropped over to the left and he stared at Lamont with a sly smirk. It was evident he had read his mind. Lamont looked away. He closed his eyes and braced himself for whatever lay ahead. For the rest of the flight, he played the game of “what if,” his mind spinning endless possibilities as the plane hurtled toward Vegas.