Unspoken Obsession (Casino King #4)

18. Dante

DANTE

W e drive through the city, past all the best restaurants in the area, and I wonder what she has up her sleeve. She looks excited and keeps glancing over at me with a cheeky grin.

She looks gorgeous today.

That lace summer dress and her white sneakers - she looks divine.

"Are we almost there?" I ask, for the third time as we turn off the main road and head down a long dirt road.

"I think so." She says.

"Finally, I am on the edge of my seat with anticipation." I laugh.

As we turn the corner, I realize what she has planned.

In front of us is a bright red train. Shining and looking smart.

"Are we going on the train?" I ask in surprise.

"Yes, it's dinner, wine tasting, and a trip around the city." She grins, looking at me with a hopeful expression.

She is waiting for my response.

I am dumbstruck. In all of Las Vegas - out of all the things she could have chosen for us - she chose the one thing I have never done.

I shake my head, smiling from ear to ear. "You are full of surprises, Frankie. I've never been on the train before. I've heard about it - I guess I just had no one to go with."

"Well, we are going right now."

I park the car outside the train station, and we climb out. The air is warm and crisp, and I can already tell it is going to be a beautiful sunset.

I step closer to Frankie. She also chose a place where we don't have to worry about other people seeing us together. Although - now that she knows who I am - does it even matter anymore?

It does.

It matters because I don't know who she is yet.

Until I know who she is, I think my guard will remain up. And I think it is better to keep whatever is happening between us more private.

And there isn't anything more private than dinner for two on the famous Red Train.

At the ticket office, Frankie gives them her booking reference, and the conductor welcomes us onto the train. "You are in unit seventeen. Enjoy your dinner experience with us." He smiles and gestures for us to walk along the passage.

We get comfortable in our unit at a table elegantly spread with a white tablecloth, white roses, and candles set in very heavy-based holders.

There is a room alongside the dining area - a bedroom for those who book overnight trips. Frankie needs to be back at twelve, so I guess that isn't us.

Each dining area unit is behind a tinted glass wall. It offers privacy without cutting you off from the other passengers. Then the entire side of the unit that looks outward is glass - giving us uninterrupted views of the city and landscape we will travel past.

While Frankie is getting comfortable, my phone buzzes in my pocket. Earlier, I asked Lorenzo to report on what he found at the location of the tracker. I'm hoping it's him.

"Excuse me for just a moment," I say, opening the message from Lorenzo.

"It's no problem." She smiles.

Lorenzo: Can I call?

Damn. I guess it is quicker to explain that way. Before I answer him, my phone is ringing.

"I'm really sorry about this. I won't be long at all." I step out of the unit and walk a little way down the passage of the train.

"Hello," I say, speaking in hushed tones.

"You wanted an update about her place?"

"Yes, go ahead."

"It's a mediocre apartment block. I looked around inside her place and it looks like she's been moving around a lot. She has no belongings there. Maybe it isn't even where she lives. If she lives there, she is sharing the place with a friend. In the bedroom, there was a woman asleep next to a kid. So, her roommate was home but didn't wake up. She must be using the place as a temporary spot, perhaps crashing with a friend? It's so sparse and not very homely."

"You found nothing out about who she is?"

"Nothing. I didn't want to wake the friend and the friend's kid either, so I got out as quick as I could. But—there was nothing to find."

"Thanks," I mutter, annoyed that again I've hit a brick wall with finding out anything about her.

I slid my phone into my pocket and returned to our unit. Frankie is taking in the surroundings, loving every moment.

She picks the candle up and sets it down again. "Oh, that's clever. They used magnets to keep it on the table." She laughs, looking at every detail and taking it all in.

"You haven't been on the Red Train either?" I ask, sliding into my seat.

"No, this is my first time."

"What made you choose it, then?"

"I wanted something different - something a man who has everything has maybe not experienced." Her smile is electrifying, and it pulls me into her eyes.

She continues to captivate me every time I see her.

But tonight, I want to ask the tough questions. I want to force answers from her.

She knows who I am - isn't it fair that I learn who she is as well?

Again, I am agitated because even the tracker proved useless. She's just crashing at a friend's place. If that is where she lives, even. Maybe she just spent the night there. I don't know. Maybe I need to reconsider the choice of forcing her to speak. But torturing her will destroy whatever we have grown between us—and I really like whatever is growing between us.

"I guess it would also be difficult for your father's bodyguards to follow us out here," I say as the train engine hoots to life, the whistleblowing.

"Yes, that was a bonus." She nods, looking out of the window.

"Why did you and your father not see eye to eye? What made you dislike him?" I ask, now that we are on the topic of her father. If I can find out who he is, then I can find out who she is.

She sighs and pulls her mouth tight.

"My father is strict. He is controlling and overbearing. Ever since I was really little - all I can remember about my childhood is that I wasn't allowed to make my own choices. Like my father was in control of every aspect of my life. Rigid rules, routine, and no room for emotions, or fun."

"So - you left? I mean, you left wherever you grew up. Does your father live in Las Vegas? Is this where you grew up?"

She shifts in her seat, already disliking the line of questions. But I don't care. I need answers. I never thought it was a clever idea to push her before - but at this point, I am desperate for the truth, and she isn't giving anything away.

"I left Las Vegas. Yes, I grew up here. I left and went to Canada to start a life for myself there, but my father hunted for me and when he found me, he had his men follow me and they made my life so annoying and difficult that after a few years, I was forced to come back here."

"When did you leave?"

She rolls her eyes, and I suppress a chuckle. I can't understand my attraction to her annoyance. She is cute when she is happy and she's cute when she is annoyed with me. But she's answering my questions - and I can't stop now.

"I left over three years ago." She sighs, throwing me a glare that says, 'Are you done - can we enjoy dinner now?'

But I'm not done.

"Three years. Then you came back. And now your father is having you followed everywhere?"

She nods, her lips sealed tight. She will not give away any information for free. That's for sure.

"What does your father do for a living?"

She glares at me. Her mouth turned down in a tight frown.

"I was thinking of trying the carpaccio for a starter. What do you think?" she asks, changing the topic.

I narrow my eyes at her, annoyed yet intrigued.

What secrets could be so big that she won't even utter them?

What could she be hiding that might be so bad?

"I'm a big fan of carpaccio - but if we each get a different starter, we can try two of them."

"Good idea - you choose something else then."

When the server comes over to take our order from the limited, but incredible-looking menu, we order the carpaccio and calamari in garlic butter with a side of Brussels sprouts.

They bring our first wine pairing with the bread.

A light white to ease into the evening.

Outside the window, the sky is changing color and the reflection from the glass is making Frankie's skin glow.

She is gorgeous, and it makes it so much harder to be wary of her.

My feelings towards her are a mess and I'm struggling to figure out if I want to protect her from her father - and whatever it is she is running or hiding from - or if I need to push harder to expose her secrets.

It's driving me crazy trying to figure out what to do.

The tension between us is palpable as I lift my wineglass and say "Cheers." She grins and tilts her glass towards mine. "To new experiences and good company."

"To both." I agree.

The wine is smooth and goes down easily. After the glass, I am a little more relaxed than before. And when our appetizers arrive with the second glass, I feel the tension leaving my body.

I am still wary of Frankie - this mysterious girl who wants to keep her secrets close to her chest - but at least I'm not so wound up about all the negative possibilities.

Tonight - it is just about relaxing. And hopefully, somewhere along the line Frankie will slip up and say something revealing to me -- something that helps me see who she really is and why she thinks she has to hide it from me.

I stretch my legs forward beneath the table and press my knees on both sides of hers. She grins at me, that sly cheeky expression I love so much.

The wine is making her cheeks glow.

Not able to hold myself back, I stand up, lean over the table, and grab her jaw in my hand, holding her still as I press my lips against hers, kissing her. The wine spills over into heated passion that for a moment I cannot stop.

We hear the door to our unit slide open. I sit back down again as the server apologizes for the interruption and takes away our starter plates.

"Your main course is about to arrive, sir." He grins and then hurries away.

Frankie is making a conversation about what it's like growing up in Las Vegas, asking me about my childhood and my family. I am reluctant to tell her anything. But I know that my childhood is no big secret. Almost everyone in Vegas knows me - and they all heard about my sister.

I push the thought of my sister aside. I have a meeting with Lorenzo tomorrow to discuss Antoni Musetti and the leads we have against him. Lorenzo wanted a little time to investigate before we discussed it all. He had a hunch with someone he thought could clear it up.

I will think about my sister tomorrow when I am working on the search.

Right now, it won't do me any good to get lost in that worry.

The server brings in our main course.

A lamb shank, roasted in sweet pepper and olive oil, served on a bed of caramelized baby carrots.

Frankie has chosen the salmon, baked in lemon butter and served with roasted baby potatoes. Of course, we have already decided to share again so that we can try as many things as possible and make the most of this experience.

I already want to bring her back here.

I just wish I knew what direction our relationship was headed in.

It all depends on who she is to me.

I can't allow myself to fall any deeper than I already have - the risk is becoming more dangerous by the day.

Frankie cuts a piece of salmon and holds the fork out to me. She slips it into my mouth. It tastes divine. The server has poured me a savory red wine, and Frankie a dry white.

The wine is going to my head. This is my third glass, and I rarely drink wine.

My suspicions towards Frankie are mixed with lust, an undeniable attraction, and my need to protect her.

I want to push her up against this table and fuck her so hard - but I want to grab her around the throat and demand that she tell me the truth.

Of course, I can do neither of those things.

So, I sip my wine again and enjoy my food while we chat about the view and what an incredible experience this is.