7. Damier
V egas had a way of wrapping itself around you. The neon lights, the sound of energy, and the constant churn of people chasing something—luck, money, or just a moment of escape, like me. For the last two days, I’d been holed up in my penthouse at the Palms, the floor-to-ceiling windows offering me a panoramic view of the strip. But even with all that, my world felt dark.
The nightmares came harder than I expected. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Damian’s face—twisted in pain, his voice muffled behind the tape, his body slumped on that cold concrete floor. I told myself it was necessary, but it didn’t stop the ache in my chest. Disciplining him wasn’t just about loyalty or betrayal; it was about stripping away the part of me that had always protected him.
Damian was my twin. Growing up, we had an unspoken bond. We didn’t need words to understand each other. I thought we’d take on the world together and build the family name even higher. But somewhere along the way, greed and ego had consumed him. I was furious with him, but part of me felt like a piece of me had died that night in the basement. Now, I had to figure out how to heal.
I rubbed my temples, leaning back on the plush sofa in the living room of the suite. The silence had been suffocating, so I’d been writing. Plans for rebranding my clubs, ideas to beef up operations in New York and Paris, and ways to make my empire more legit. I was tired of the dirt. Tired of collecting souls. I wanted peace—real peace.
Then, there was the baby I just found out about.
I’d been replaying my mother’s words in my head since I left the estate. A child left at Dream’s job with my name on the birth certificate? It had to be a setup. I always wrapped up with no exceptions other than Dream. Whoever the mother was, she had an angle, and I needed to figure it out. And God help her if I found out this was some kind of ploy to extort me.
Still, when I held that baby, something shifted. There was a connection I couldn’t explain, and it scared me. Maybe it wasn’t a setup. Maybe this was fate’s way of tying me to the next generation, but I couldn’t think about that right now.
I stood and stretched, rolling my shoulders back. The silence was getting to me again. I needed to get out, to feel the pulse of the city and let the noise drown out my thoughts. Walking over to the hotel phone, I dialed my security team’s suite next door.
Lou answered on the first ring. “Boss?”
“Meet me in the hall,” I said. “We’re about to take a ride to Bellagio. They’ve got the best craps tables in Vegas.”
Lou chuckled. “Bet. Give me fifteen to get myself together.”
By the time I stepped into the hallway, I was feeling like myself again. My emerald green suit was custom-tailored to perfection, hugging every muscle just right. My black dress shirt was unbuttoned at the top, giving a glimpse of my diamond chains. My Louis Vuitton cufflinks sparkled under the hallway lights, matching the shine of my diamond-encrusted watch. The suede black LV loafers finished the look.
Lou stepped out of his suite a moment later, grinning when he saw me. He was dressed to impress, too, in a sharp black suit with gold accents.
“Okay, boss,” he said, giving me a once-over. “You looking flyer than a runway model, my boy.”
I smirked, adjusting my cuffs. “You sharp your damn self, Lou. Let’s move.”
$$$$$
The valet had my black Ferrari waiting out front, gleaming under the hotel’s lights. I’d had it shipped to Vegas because there was no way in hell I’d be caught in a rental. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I fired up my oldies playlist, and “Secret Garden” by Quincy Jones and Barry White poured through the speakers.
The smooth tunes set the mood as Lou sparked a blunt in the passenger seat. I weaved through the traffic on Las Vegas Boulevard, my foot heavy on the gas. Heads turned as the Ferrari roared past, the deep purr of the engine cutting through the night air. My tint was dark enough to keep my face hidden, but I could feel the stares. Vegas loved a spectacle, and I didn’t mind giving them one.
At the Bellagio, I didn’t need to announce myself. The moment I walked in, heads turned, and the staff parted like the Red Sea, trying to get me drinks and to the most exclusive tables. VIP treatment was a given wherever I went.
Lou trailed behind me as I made my way to the craps table, the emerald green of my suit catching the dim light of the casino floor. The energy at the table was electric, the kind of buzz that made you feel alive. I threw down a stack of cash, nodding at the dealer as I joined the game.
I was deep in the rhythm of the game, my focus razor-sharp, when a sultry voice cut through the din.
“Need a good luck charm, handsome?”
I turned to see a woman standing beside me, her dress hugging every curve. She was sexy, no doubt—the kind of woman the old me might’ve entertained for the night. She leaned closer, her perfume lingering in the air.
“What do you say?” she purred, batting her lashes. “You want a date?”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Not tonight. I’m on my way to see my lady tomorrow.”
Her pout was dramatic, but she stepped back with a playful smirk. “Your loss. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”
I watched her disappear into the crowd before turning back to the table. The dice hit the felt, and I let out a low laugh as the dealer announced my win.
Still, even with the money piling up, my mind wandered. I thought about Dream—her smile, her fire, the way she didn’t flinch when the truth about my world came crashing down around her.
As I tossed the dice again, I made a decision. I’m taking her to Turks and Caicos.
Because, after everything, she deserved more than words. She deserved the world. And I’d give it to her.