Mafia Obsession

Regina:

I never tasted the meal that was made by my mother. I remembered nothing of her embrace. She was out my picturesque mind before I even began to remember the world with beauty and colors. I never had a protective father to lean on. He was gone before I even learned to walk. As far as my memories go, I was an orphanage in Miss. Mary Shelter's Home before the kindest couple adopted me.

There were two things I hated most about "Las Vegas" during my always unexpected visits. 1: It was always crowded as hell were supposed to be. 2: I wouldn't imagined day without sun in this deserted valley. It was indeed a place, where the sun shined closer to the land instead of high above the pale sky.

You know I was never fond of entertainment. My motto always had been, "better dead than red" meaning "Instead of spending time with the loser. I preferred to entertain myself with books and of course, with my precious computer." Obviously, Las Vegas hadn't done fair justice in my life. The moment I stepped my foot inside this luxurious hotel room of "The MGM Grand" I had only been hearing the clubs name and the gambling stations.

My partner in crime had left the room to troll around the city on his own. It was seven P.M in the evening and here I was, working on my laptop that didn't immediately required my assistant.

Scott Mcreu: Come down, Westfield. Have some fun. My partner in crime - Scott Mcreu had been bugging me all day to have some fun downstairs or rather have fun playing cards and one of those slot machine games that was terrifyingly popular in Las Vegas.

I am not joining you in your misery. I replied to him. We arrived in Las Vegas last night from San Diego, our hometown. By means, we weren't here for a honeymoon or anything related to the possible relationship. It was strictly a business matter that unfortunately brought us here.

Scott Mcreu: Don't be a pussycat. Get your ass down here. I have a special gift for you. You will love it, my dear. Taking a long and heavy sigh, I groaned at his text message. Without overthinking about any other excuses to shut down myself in the hotel room, I decided to follow my partner advice. What was there to lose after all?

I glanced around the room with my predatory gazed as I took pictures of every item in possession and the position they were decorated. It was my highly-trained agent instincts that might not leave me alone for own benefits.

My hair was a mess. It was still in a bun but rolling down on the bed had made it worse to give me a decent look. I obviously lacked the beauty. I inherited a petite body, very unshaped feature, and my pupils were dilated - the most bothersome combination.

Letting my hair down for once, I quickly changed into a blue tank-top and a flannel shirt with a blue jeans pant. Slipping into a pair of Jordan shoes, I headed for the casino on the first floor.

When I said this place was luxurious, I truly meant it - cruse my heart if I wasn't telling a truth. The designed was spectacular. The chandelier hung on the ceiling like this place must be a store for luxurious items. And there was numerous of those slot machines facing each and every direction. The Italian rugged had given this place extra shining. And of course, the bar and small shops and the expensive restaurant on the big wide floor just had been enough to bring people in. There was an exhibition of Lion next to the Rainforest Cafe and Sports bar a few distances away. I could definitely smell the fine champagne in their collection. I wouldn't mind saying that this place was all-inclusive. I mean, when they served fine champagne that you probably wouldn't even get to buy in San Diego. I was going for a unlimited fun.

I called Scott four times before he finally answered me with his charming tone. Then, I yelled at him on the phone for giving me hell for bringing me downstairs since every single lady seemed to give me that pitiful smile. He apologized several times and begged me to stay with him as he defined his characteristics towards me as my worrisome friend, and I supposed I was to have fun at all time.

Scott was gambling with a few strange faces on the table near the Sports Bar. He was holding a drink with his left hand as he carried three cards with his right hand. He smiled widely at me as I approached him and sat next to him giving him a hard glare.

The dealer - a Chinese woman in her early forties immediately asked me for my ID. Scott laughed at me as he requested lady to have mercy on me. He was determined to prove that I was underage. It was a universal fact that I turned 21, and I was no underage to avoid having a taste of red wine or any other wine in these bars.

I glared at Scott for insulting me. Yet it had no effect on him. I handed her my ID. Even though my ID said I turned 21 last November. My face told them a different story. I was no older than 18 years old teenager. Chinese woman scanned my ID in the scanner, which definitely proved her my innocence. She apologized for the inconvenience and began to shuffle the cards to her gamblers.

Scott was still mischievously smiling at me. I couldn't yell at him since everybody gazed was fixed on me. I supposed I was holding the card to our entertainment. After all, who would have thought - a computer hacker wearing big glasses would have the pleasure to join them in their misery.

"Do you mind?" I asked for a drink in a exchange. I had to do something to get my mind off of his little game.

"Not at all, my dear." He said, showing me his diamond ring for the tenth times today. I glanced up at on my own ring finger. It looked miraculously beautiful.

To my own better judgment, faked wedding rings on our fingers looked amazingly shiny. Mine was a 24-carat solitaire diamond. His was a Princess-cut with some portions of yellow gold.

"Stopped," I demanded.

He flashed a bright smile on his yellowish teeth. Ruining my best evening of the lifetime, he said. "Honey, would you grab me a drink?" I gave him a glare.

"I want vodka, please." He told me, ignoring my glare.

Controlling my anger as it was taking hold of my innocence. I grabbed my wallet and headed towards the Sports Bar.

I might not have been a lady with a great EQ, but I was smart enough to realize that these people would definitely need to see my ID. I wasn't tall and old enough to argued with them that I was legally 21 and older.

The Bartender was definitely male even his tattooed hand and ladylike manners were telling me, he might be a homosexual. Before handing over my debit card to him, I gave him my ID. He smiled widely as he took it from my hand with precaution.

"Nice tattoo." I complimented him.

"Thank you." His high-pitched voice was irritating. No offense, but he was definitely a homosexual.

In my co-worker opinion, I could be bitchy sometimes. I was definitely a judgmental - couldn't even argue on that topic, and other than being picky about things, I liked to compliment. I wouldn't comment out my fascination for them. It was just way I was born and raised. And people, who knew better would definitely say that I inherited my late adoptive mother's behavior.

"Do you mind if you ask you some questions?" I made an animated-baby face.

He observed me for a very long time and agreed to go through with the investigation.

"Have you been working here for a long time?" I asked him.

He gave me his awful blank stares at first and then he answered me. "Yes, almost been three years."

"Oh." I made a face. "I am not trying to take up your time." I apologized, looking behind my back for any customers. Well, there wasn't any so. I added. "What's your opinion about the lion's exhibit?"

"To me, I think it's a way to earn some good money." He shrugged. "To be honest, I didn't find animal's show entertaining, but I am just a worker. Who cares about my opinion, right?"

I slightly nodded.

"Is there been any incidents lately?" I asked him.

You wouldn't be able to tell how happy I was feeling as I was doing part of my job. I was investigating a possible witness, and it felt absolutely amazing as if my ever-lost dream had finally come true.

Technically speaking, I didn't come to the bar to collect evidence for our mission. I was supposed to be getting a drink for my partner. Geez, where are my manners?