Chapter 18
Ledgar
My office is tucked just above the casino, where you can look out the slanted windows to my right and see everything that is happening.
The floor hums the way it always does. Lights flashing, people scattering from table to table.
The sound of money being lost to the machines.
Strangers clapping and cheering in small, fleeting moments at the winners.
I stop hearing any of it the moment she steps onto the floor.
She walks with confidence alongside her friend, but you can tell something is broken in her.
The elegance she portrayed the last time I saw her is gone.
She stands near the blackjack table awkwardly.
Like she doesn’t belong here, when she helped design it.
Most come here greedy and desperate, chasing the high of winning.
She isn’t. She just stands there, looking lost. My jaw tightens the longer I watch her through the glass of the window one hand braced against the frame above my head.
It’s the same look she had in the elevator, but worse somehow.
Like what she witnessed has settled in. Though from what I can see on the outside she looks…
a bit dangerous. Her style has an edge to it that screams don’t touch me.
I’ve watched people break before me more times than I can count.
But watching her break, it hits different.
Because I knew the truth. I knew what she would find when she opened that door.
And I let her open it anyway. I never wanted to see her break.
At least not in the way it happened. I lean against the wall slightly, letting out a slow breath.
My eyes follow her every movement below me as they make their way to the slot machines.
Her fingers brush over the edge of one of the slot machines, like she’s searching for something to focus on.
Like a reminder that this isn’t a dream.
That she is still standing and breathing and looking fucking breathtaking.
My gaze roams for a second, then finds her again.
And that’s all I can take. I press a button on my desk for payout.
“Row three, slot 9,” I say, my voice even. “Adjust the payout for ten million.” There’s a pause on the other end.
“...sir?” I don’t repeat myself.
“Adjust it.”
Another moment passes, then a, “Yes, sir.”
I watch as her friend guides her, carefully, not pushing, just nudging her like it’s something my forbidden ace wanted to do all along, to the exact machine I adjusted the payout for.
It’s a hot one. And unusual that it’s empty.
She hesitates before sitting on the stool, glancing at her friend like she’s unsure.
Like she is trying to tell her she changed her mind and is going back to the room.
But she won’t. Not right now. Not when she needs something, anything, to take her mind away from it.
Her hand wraps around the lever. Then, she pulls it.
The alarm sounds, the sound louder than any other machine around her.
Lights flash franticly over her. People turn to look.
Some even start to applaud and cheer, while others try to make their way over to her.
I smirk as her eyes widen, confusion and disbelief written on her face as her friend next to her tries to comfort her.
But she doesn’t need comfort, she needs space.
Space to breathe without strangers hovering.
She looks up to big glass windows, as if sensing someone up here had something to do with it, though she’d be right.
I’m not worried about her seeing me. It’s one-way glass.
I can see everything, but no one can see in.
And for the first time since she left my penthouse, she smiles.
It’s small, barely noticeable, but I see it.
It shouldn’t matter. It doesn’t mean anything.
It’s not like she knows who is responsible.
Not yet. I can manipulate the outcome again in a second if I choose to.
But I won’t. Because for a brief second, the look on her face, knowing I was able to break into the weight of her betrayal; that’s worth more than anything. “She’s the winner tonight.”
And just like that, the decision is made. The words leave my lips before I have a chance to talk myself out of it. “Have her escorted to my office,” I add, turning back to my desk. “Tell them it’s protocol.”
“What about her friend?”
I pause, thinking a moment. “No,” I say finally, my voice cold but quiet.
“Just her.” I walk back to the window, watching as employees gather around her and escort her to me as instructed.
Her attention is mine, and mine alone. I’m not about to compete for it.
My reflection catches in the glass for a split second.
Controlled and untouched by anything happening below.
Just like it needs to be. Like it should be.