Chapter 4
Tucked away in the shadows,I stood silently against the wall, my back pressed against the hard surface. The noise of clanging slot machines and bursts of loud laughter filled the air, a sharp contrast to the tight knot of apprehension in my stomach. I had been in Vegas for four weeks now, successfully avoiding any chance meetings with my family, but I knew that this game of hide and seek couldn’t last forever. For the moment, though, my focus was elsewhere.
From my hidden vantage point, I surveyed the room through the fog of cigarette smoke. My gaze was sharp, disciplined, as I scrutinized every face, every movement. Nestled in a niche near the grand entrance of the Bellagio, I was a ghost to the surrounding drinkers, my presence unnoticed. It’s how I preferred things. The only connection to a life was Harlen, and he wasn’t here.
The man I was tracking, Lipovsky, had proven elusive. It had taken me two painstaking weeks of digging through information, piecing together patterns and whispers, to predict his next move. Finally, a revelation struck—Lipovsky was seeking vengeance of his own. His target was the man responsible for the downfall of his prized fighter, Ivan Gurin. Ryker Nash, known in certain circles as ‘the Saint,’ had dealt a lethal blow to the Russian boxer. A blow that cost him his freedom. Now, Ryker was out of prison and, for reasons I didn’t understand, was fighting in the upcoming knockout match here in Vegas. It was here, amid the noise and the neon lights, I expected our paths to cross.
As though summoned by my intense focus, my brothers suddenly appeared in the casino. Massimo led the way, with Vincenzo and Antonio flanking him. They had the look of men on a mission. I pressed myself farther into the shadows, my heart pounding as I watched them stride purposefully down a corridor, eventually vanishing from view.
Despite the risk of potentially being recognized, especially with my hair now dyed a stark platinum blonde, curiosity propelled me forward. Stealthily, I followed them down the hallway, my footsteps softly padding across the floor. They entered a small room, and I positioned myself against the wall outside, ears straining to catch their conversation.
“What did you find out?” Massimo’s deep voice was the first to reach me.
“He’s on his way back from Atlanta. He said he had something that might help us find her,” Vincenzo replied, frustration clear in his tone. “I just wish he had told us he was leaving to begin with. I’m worried about him.”
“You going soft, brother?” Antonio teased.
The sudden sound of a slap, followed by Antonio’s shocked voice, jolted me.
“What the hell, Vin? You slapped me.”
“And I’ll do it again,” Vincenzo retorted sharply.
Antonio laughed it off. “Seems like having another baby on the way’s got you on edge.”
“I could say the same about you, fucker,” Vin growled, making me smile to myself.
The news of another child in the family hit me like a wave, turning into a pang of guilt. I was missing out on so much in their lives, all by my own choice.
“Maybe you, Vin, and Beckett should swap stories,” Massimo’s voice came through again. “Celestina is about to give birth any day now. She nearly bit my head off for no reason. Between her due date and people going MIA, she’s really stressed.”
“She thinks it’s her fault,” Massimo sighed, his words trailing off as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Anyway, Lorenzo says he might have some info for us. He should be here in a few moments. I want to get this done so I can go home to my wife and kids.”
Kids.The word left me feeling a pang of sadness. My brother had children. Children I hadn’t been around to see born. Not to mention he was married—he’d finally done it. I was happy for him, but my heart shattered at the realization they were moving on, and I was absent to see it all. I retreated from the door, my mind racing. Who were they talking about being in Atlanta? And Celestina was pregnant again? The shame of hiding from them was overwhelming. Part of me wanted to reveal myself, to rejoin my family, but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not when I was so close to tracking down the man responsible for all this chaos.
Slipping from my hiding spot, I made my way to the bar, hoping to find my target. The big fight was in two days, and I was certain Lipovsky and the ‘Saint’ would be around. I had to figure out why the ‘Saint’ was going to such lengths for a guy who almost killed him, then robbed him of his freedom. I slid up to the bar, leaning casually on the solid wood.
The bartender, an older man who appeared to have years under his belt, approached. “What’ll it be?” he asked.
I slid a crisp hundred-dollar bill across the sleek surface. “Jack and Coke, if you don’t mind.”
I observed him as he worked the bar with ease. While he prepared my drink, my gaze drifted to a striking redhead who settled on a nearby stool. She was accompanied by a breathtaking brunette and a guy who screamed ‘bodyguard.’ The redhead and her burly companion were caught up in a heated discussion. Their words were lost in the bar’s buzz, but I kept watching. The brunette, clearly frustrated, threw her hands in the air and strode toward me. I glanced at the mirror behind the bar, only to find her taking the seat next to me, much to my surprise.
“Whiskey shot, please,” she called to the bartender with a mix of exasperation and humor in her voice.
He grinned at her, sliding a napkin in front of her as he poured the drink. “Tough day?” he inquired, his tone light.
She sighed dramatically, her eyes darting toward her friends. “Honestly, those two should just fuck it out in bed.” She quickly covered her mouth, glancing my way, “Oops, sorry for being so crude.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle as I took a sip of my drink, then turned to her. “No worries. It’s pretty clear they’ve got some issues to untangle.”
“I only invited Libby, my best friend with the red hair, because I wanted her at my wedding.” She nodded, holding up her left hand to show off a sparkling diamond. She glanced back at them. “But she and Luke, that bulky guy hovering behind her, are just a bundle of unresolved… tension.”
I took a quick peek at her friends and laughed. “Seems like they might be on their way to resolving that tension.”
She turned to see Libby and Luke now passionately kissing. “Wow, guess they figured it out. Makes me wish I was with my hubby right now because that kiss is hot,” she said, a playful yet wishful tone in her voice.
“You’re a newlywed?” I asked with a hint of curiosity as she nodded. Raising my glass to clink against hers, I offered a warm smile. “Congratulations. So, where’s your other half? Shouldn’t you two be celebrating together?”
“He’s prepping for a big moment.” She let out a deep sigh, frustration coloring her voice. “He’s a boxer and had to spar with a teammate who’s also competing in the upcoming expo. But he’s supposed to join us here in a bit.”
The mention of ‘boxer’ set off an alarm in my mind. “A boxer, really?”
“Yeah,” she murmured, her voice dropping to almost a whisper, lost in thought. “And you? What’s brought you to the glitz of Vegas?”
“Just business,” I replied shortly, downing the rest of my drink in one go and setting the glass back on the bar with a definitive clunk.
Just as I was gearing up to dig deeper into who her husband was, the very man I’d been searching for materialized behind her. The exchange of glances between them was intimate, filled with an unspoken language of love. It was an emotional scene, one that tugged at my heartstrings. Their connection, so apparent, served as a bittersweet reminder of something I feared was beyond my reach now that Alex was dead. Watching them, I felt a twinge of envy, mingled with a sense of longing for a connection that might forever elude me.
“Oh, I’m sorry… I didn’t catch your name,” the woman said, breaking their kiss and turning back to face me.
“I’m Ela,” I found myself saying, the lie slipping out smoothly, as if it was second nature. I turned to face her with practiced ease, curiosity etched subtly on my features. “And what’s your name?”
“Addison Nash,” she replied, her smile lighting up her face as she gestured toward the sexy man beside her. “And this here is Ryker, my husband.” Their hands found each other in a seamless, familiar gesture, their fingers intertwining naturally. As she did, a mischievous yet charming smirk played across her lips, a spark of playful energy in her eyes.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Ryker. Your wife was just telling me about your boxing career.” It was a dance of words, each one carefully chosen so as not to let on my true purpose for probing him about his career. There was a clue here, one I wasn’t about to let go of.
Ryker tensed for a moment, a fleeting shadow crossing his face before he masked it with a forced smile. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m here for the big knockout match this weekend.”
“Who’s backing you in the ring? Most fighters here seem to have some big-name sponsor. I’ve met a few others, but they were too arrogant for my liking. The young ones especially, all swagger, no sense,” I prodded, curious about his affiliations.
Ryker let out a genuine, deep laugh. “You hit the nail on the head. Truth is, I wouldn’t be here if not for… certain circumstances beyond my control.”
He reached for Addison, gently pulling her off her stool. “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to steal my wife away. I owe her some alone time.”
“Absolutely, go ahead. Congrats again. Maybe we’ll cross paths another time, Addison,” I said with a friendly nod.
She giggled, a carefree sound, as Ryker guided her toward the exit.
I watched them, a sense of intrigue building inside me. As they reached the door, I tensed. Standing before Ryker was the very man I had been searching for—Lipovsky. Their exchange was tense, clear even from my distance. Ryker stood protectively, placing Addison behind him, his finger jabbing accusingly at Lipovsky’s chest. Lipovsky merely chuckled, brushing past Ryker with a deliberate shoulder bump.
As Lipovsky headed in my direction, I stood up abruptly. Leaving my change on the bar, I quickly left, heading the opposite way. Confrontation was tempting, but timing was everything. I needed to understand Ryker’s role in all this, whether he was a player or if Lipovsky had some leverage over him, making him a mere pawn in his twisted game. The scene I’d just witnessed hinted at coercion, and that made this mission even more personal. I loathed men who used threats to control others, and Lipovsky was a master of such tactics.
If he was indeed manipulating Ryker into fighting for his gain, I was determined to uncover it. Somehow, the fight and Lipovsky’s trafficking empire were entwined—I just didn’t know how. Didn’t matter, though. I was going to figure out the connection. Then I’d use that information to dismantle his empire. For every life he’d ruined, every soul he’d tormented, I would make sure he paid—tenfold.