Bricks started really enjoying he Motor City. Many opportunities were available and he took ethe biggest gamble of his life by buying the former Tops Casino. After purchasing the empty space next door his vision soon became a reality

The Royal Obsidian Casino and Lounge

     Two marble doors open to a grand lobby featuring sleek black speckled granite floors. a crystal chandelier lighting up a truly regal atmosphere.and a archway with Emerald green drapes on each end. Cynthia dressed in a black dress and matching green blouse greets you with a complimentary champagne flute more than happy to guide you or answer questions.

To the left is The Black Velvet Cigar Lounge.  A luxurious yet laid back experience awaits you.  A large humidor made of Hondurian mahogany and copper lining  fully stocked with hand rolled cigars from Cuba, Honduras, Nicaragua, Ecuador and F. Correntii cigars made in Canada. These are continuously monitored fir quality flavor temperature and freshness.  A bar has many types of wines spirits and cocktails to choose from

Seat yourself at one of many tables or lounge on one of our comfy black leather tufted u shaped sofas while enjoying many entertaining acts from Marie and the Dream to bands playing Jazz,and blues and classic rock as well as mind blowing magicians and side splitting comedians. 

To the right is where great fortune and Lady luck could be yours. a dozen assorted slot machines, 3 black mahogany blackjack tables with rich green felt, , 2 craps table along with one roulette. table have top dressed hosts/hostesses waiting for you.

If you consider yourself a bit of a high roller then Mr. Malone has the private Black Emerald room. This features its own cashiers cage, blackjack and poker tables. the gamblers Den room to bet on sporting events and horse races.

        Whether you come out richer or poorer then when you entered you will never forget your experience at The Royal Obsidian Casino and Lounge

Mickey walked in without ceremony, he hadn't bothered to ring ahead, it was hard to get a real feel for a place with sycophants where fawning over you. Besides, Mickey was a man who didn’t need an introduction made, but made one anyway because he liked the sound of his own voice. Liked the sound of his own voice and wanted to make sure that everyone knew exactly who they were dealing with.

He took his time looking around. Not impressed. Not unimpressed. Just… measuring.

A small nod to Cynthia as he passes.

“Bricks appears to have done well for himself.”

He says it plainly. No flourish. Which somehow makes it land harder.
"Perhaps I should have raised his tribute," he adds as an afterthought. Taking a few steps further in, Mickey rested a hand briefly on the back of a chair, like he was testing its weight rather than admiring it.

“Places like this don’t just bring in money… they bring attention. The good kind, the bad kind… and the kind that doesn’t knock before it walks in.”

He straightens his cuffs.

“But that’s alright.”

A faint smile, almost dry.

“This one isn't going to stand on its own.”

His eyes drift across the room again, slower this time.

“Everything here will run under that same understanding. The business stays clean, problems stay contained, and anyone who forgets that… gets reminded.”

There was no edge in his voice, there was no need. This wasn't a threat. Just facts. He finally turned back toward the entrance.

“Tell Bricks I’ll drop by properly when he’s not busy making money.”

A brief pause.

“And that I expect this place to do very well.”

Mickey headed for the door, already done with the conversation. He wasn't much of a gambler when the house controlled the odds.

Apologetically BricksMalone sent a car to the airport to pick me up.  He had some unavoidable business to take care of at the Casino. 

As the car arrived at the Royal Obsidian Casino, a brass band sound warmed the air with a Motown riff while engines idled and purred, Cadillac’s, Buicks, a few restored muscle cars whose chrome winked like dice all lined the entrance way. 

A Gentleman opened the car door Welcome to the Royal Obsidian Casino, Ms Harper, BricksMalone expecting you. He helps me out of the car. 

When I was steady on my feet he reached for my briefcase and I quickly snatched away.  Relax he said in a tone that clearly turned me off.  You fucking relax I told him.  I don’t know you.  In one breathe I was saying this mother fucker is just going to take my shit without asking and in the next breathe I was saying I’m too paranoid.  Once he gain his composure 

I’m so sorry Ms. Harper; Bricks just told me you would be carrying some important merchandise.  I just want to assist you with it.  Come this way.  It’s all good as I followed him.

Walking through the lobby it was just as I imagine, half Vegas glamour, half old-school mobster nostalgia.
He escorted me to the penthouse suite, opens the door and said this was Mr. Bricks office to go right in.

From the embrace I just received I knew BricksMalone was extremely excited about his accomplishment with the Casino and wanted to share that excitement with me. 

  I knew he could swing it. He’s always had the money but it was his rapport with the right people that made it easy.  That was one thing I admired about him.   His secret life never interfered with his civilian life.  I couldn’t deal with both, I was stuck in one.

Chill, offer the lady a drink or something, I said with a little smirk.  OMG Harper sorry, where’s my manners. I’m just excited to see what Pierre sent my way, I have your favorite.  He reached behind the bar and pulled out a jug, poured her a glass over ice.   From the looks of the jug I knew it was apple pie moonshine.  I shook the ice around the glass a few times and took a sip.  Now where did you find apple pie moonshine.  Bricks laughed I had it shipped in especially for you.  You have your private stash at every bar in the place.

 
I open the briefcase, handed him the stones, Bricks eyes lit up like a Christmas tree as he emptied the velvet bag and examined each stone. 

Well at least I know they will be safe in the Casino vault. Pierre will arrive next week, add a few more. 
We will be able secure a few deals with the Russians but we have to be smart and prepared. 

It was a long flight into the city from Philly.
His eyes almost heavier than his hands as the urge to lose his hard-earned wages grew fierce.

Entering the marble doors the weight started lifting off of his shoulders as he could feel the urge becoming satiated.
He approached the blackjack table after a quick stop at the cashier, gently rubbing his fingertips across the felt top.

"Deal me in, sir." he said nodding at the dealer.

Motioning for a waitress to bring him a whiskey, he looked around the room to see if anyone would stop by.

I know it’s out if respect for BricksMalone, but it drives me crazy the way his staff knows my name and knows that I am a personal friend at the Royal Obsidian Casino.  Hello Ms Breezy, Welcome back Ms Breezy, your room reservations are all set Ms Breezy, I’ll take your luggage and escort you to the Penthouse Ms Breezy.

I gave Ronald the bellman a generous tip for escorting me to the room.  I kicked my shoes off in the foyer, the second pair.  There were beautiful, fresh-cut flowers in the dining and living room areas.

I picked up the kitchen phone and dialed Bricks.  Bones answered and told me he wasn’t in but was expecting him back shortly.  I told him just to let him know I made it in.   He just laughed and told me he was sure Bricks already knew and to expect a call from him soon.

I really need Bricks help.  I have no idea what I’ve got myself into with Marcus.  I left him in Vegas with Claudette.  They seem to be hitting it off just fine.  And of course, Marcus is the man and thinks I need not worry about him. 

I drew a hot bath, and when it was ready, I lit a lavender candle, lay back, and relaxed.

Hiro pushed through the marble doors. The place smelled like money, cigar smoke, champagne, and something sweet he couldn't name.
He stopped just inside the lobby. Black granite floors. Crystal chandelier hanging low. Emerald drapes framing an archway like something out of a old picture show.
A woman in a black dress and green blouse walked up. Cynthia, probably. She held out a flute of champagne.

"Welcome to The Royal Obsidian."

Hiro took the glass. Didn't drink it just yet. He looked around.
Cigar lounge on the left. Casino floor on the right. Slots chiming, cards flipping. A jazz band playing somewhere in the back.
He took a sip of the champagne. 
He nodded at Cynthia.

"Nice place. Bricks did alright for himself."

He wandered toward the casino floor. Watched a blackjack table for a minute. Then a craps table. People yelling, dice bouncing.
He wasn't here to gamble tonight. Just to look. See what the Motor City had turned into.
He found a spot near the bar and ordered a whiskey. Sat back and watched the room work.

It had been a long week. Three runs that went late, a driver who quit without notice, a truck that died on Woodward Avenue in the rain, and a back booth at his cousin’s bar where every man who sat down wanted something from him.

So when Angelo pushed through the marble doors of the Royal Obsidian, he made himself a promise. No cards in his pocket tonight. No business. Just one night where nobody needed anything moved.

The lobby stopped him for a second. Black granite, the chandelier lit up like a sky full of stars, and emerald drapes on the archway. Cynthia offered him a champagne flute, and this time he didn’t just hold it.

He drank half in one go and smiled at her.

“That’s the first thing I’ve tasted all week that wasn’t coffee from a garage.”

He started in the cigar lounge. Picked a Cuban from the humidor, sank into one of those tufted leather sofas, and let himself sink a little deeper than he usually would. Marie was singing something slow and smoky, the kind of song that made a man forget the time. He loosened his tie. He kept his back to the wall, old habits, but he let his shoulders drop for the first time in days.

When the set ended, he clapped longer than anybody else.

Then he wandered over to the tables.

He meant to play a few hands. He played a dozen. The dealer at the second blackjack table had a dry sense of humour and a quick hand, and by the end of the hour, Angelo was actually laughing at his jokes. He went up, came down, and went up again. At one point he doubled down on eleven and caught a ten, and he slapped the felt hard enough that the man next to him jumped.

“Sorry, pal. Been a while since anything went my way.”

He tried the roulette wheel next. Put twenty on red, lost it, put twenty on black, lost that too, and just shook his head and laughed.

“That’s what I get for trying to read a wheel.”

By the time he cashed out, he was up thirty-five dollars. He tipped the blackjack dealer ten of it and Cynthia another five on the way to the door.

“You tell your boss he built something special here,” he said, putting his hat back on. “Best night I’ve had since I came to Detroit.”

He stepped out into the cold, cigar still burning between his fingers, and stood on the sidewalk a moment watching the traffic go by.

Tomorrow the phone would ring. The trucks would need moving. Somebody would want something from him.

Tomorrow.