Chapter 41 – Madeline
6 MONTHS LATER
Club V: The Heartbeat of Las Vegas, and the Secrets It Survived By Madeline Hart
There’s a rhythm to Las Vegas that never stops, a pulse that beats in time with the flashing neon and the shuffle of high-stakes cards. It’s a city of dreams, of indulgence, of reinvention. And in the middle of it all is Club V, a venue as iconic as the Strip itself.
From the moment you step inside, V is a sensory overload in the best possible way. Its sprawling layout boasts luxurious VIP lounges, a bar stocked with the rarest spirits, and a staff that feels more like a curated ensemble of characters than employees.
The music thrums like a living thing, pulling people onto the dance floor and holding them there until the early hours of the morning. It’s a place designed for escape, for magic—and for a few unforgettable nights.
But as with any place this dazzling, there are shadows.
Eight months ago, I stepped into V as a journalist. My goal was simple: to write a story about the city’s nightlife. A peek behind the velvet rope of one of the most exclusive clubs on the Strip. What I didn’t expect was for the assignment to shift from a light-hearted feature to something far darker — and far more personal.
Behind the glittering facade, there was a secret. A network of corruption involving two men who used the club as a playground for their crimes. Sean Weston, once a trusted member of V’s staff, and Vincent Calloway, a wealthy high roller with more money than morals, operated in the shadows, exploiting the club’s prestige for their own gain.
Weston, a man who’d been given countless second chances, used his position to launder money, fix bets, and leverage his influence in ways that endangered innocent people. Calloway, his partner in crime, saw V as a means to an end, manipulating the system to line his pockets and silence anyone who dared to stand in his way.
Their actions came to light only after months of investigation — and one harrowing night that left me with a scarred understanding of the lengths some will go to protect their secrets.
I was kidnapped. Threatened. Held against my will by people who saw me as nothing more than an obstacle to be removed. That night, I learned firsthand what it meant to be vulnerable, powerless.
But I also learned the meaning of resilience.
Because this isn’t a story about a club tarnished by scandal or brought to its knees by the actions of a few bad actors. This is a story about survival, about loyalty, and about a place that refused to let its heart be tainted by the greed of two men.
From the start, V’s staff—its true heart and soul—rallied together to root out the corruption. Led by the indomitable Declan Frost, the club not only survived but came out stronger.
V proved what makes it truly special: the people.
The head of security who would put his life on the line for those he cares about. The drinks server who treats every guest like family. The owner who refused to let the sins of a few define the legacy of his club.
This was never just a story about exclusivity and glamour. It became a story about humanity—the kind that shines brightest in the darkest of times.
In a city built on spectacle, V has something far rarer: integrity.
Today, V remains one of the brightest jewels on the Strip. Its reputation shines brighter than ever because it didn’t just survive the storm—it stood firm and showed the world what it’s made of.
As a journalist, I’ve written about countless places. But V isn’t just a venue. It’s an experience, a story, a testament to the people who make it what it is. And as someone who’s lived that story, I can say with certainty: there’s no place like it.
Go to V for the music, for the drinks, for the atmosphere. Stay for the people, the stories, and the magic.
Because in Las Vegas, where everything feels like an illusion, Club V is something real.
The sound of laughter and clinking glasses filled the air, blending seamlessly with the soft hum of a live jazz band in the corner.
Club V was at its finest tonight, its opulent walls shimmering under the glow of a thousand crystal lights.
I adjusted the strap of my evening gown, the deep purple fabric hugging my frame in all the right ways. The dress had been Quinn’s pick, of course. “You’ve been through too much shit not to look fabulous on the other side,” she’d said, hands on her hips as she eyed me critically during our shopping trip. “It’s time the world sees you as the powerhouse you are.”
At the time, I’d laughed, brushing off her dramatic proclamation with a wave of my hand.
Now, standing here with the city lights of Las Vegas shimmering below, her words came back to me.
I smoothed the fabric over my hips, catching my reflection in a nearby glass panel. The deep colour made my skin glow, the neckline bold but not overly revealing. It was elegant, powerful — exactly what Quinn had promised.
“Stop fidgeting,” came her voice from somewhere behind me. I turned to see her sauntering up, her own dress a dazzling gold that somehow managed to be both glamorous and playful, just like her. She held two champagne flutes, passing one to me with a wink. “You look like you’re bracing for battle.”
“Maybe I am,” I replied, taking the glass. “This is the first time in months I’ve felt... normal.”
Quinn’s grin softened, and for a moment, she looked almost serious. “You’ve earned it, Mads. And if anyone so much as looks at you wrong tonight, I’ll handle it. No one messes with my girl.”
I smiled despite myself, the tension in my shoulders easing. Leave it to Quinn to make me feel like I was invincible, even when the scars of everything I’d been through still felt fresh.
I took a sip of the champagne, the bubbles tickling my nose as I glanced around the room. Familiar faces, music that thumped just below overwhelming, and the hum of conversation — it was a world I’d fought my way back to.
“You know,” Quinn said, tilting her head as she studied me, “I was right about the dress.”
“Oh, were you?” I asked, arching a brow.
“Absolutely,” she said, clinking her glass against mine. “Knockout.”
Before I could respond, someone called her name from across the room. “Quinn! Over here! We need you in this shot!” A photographer was gesturing wildly, his camera already aimed at a small group of high-profile guests who were clearly waiting for her.
Quinn sighed dramatically, rolling her eyes as she glanced at me. “The price of being fabulous,” she quipped, setting her glass down. “Hold that thought. I’ll be right back to continue telling you how stunning you look.”
I laughed, shaking my head as she glided away, her gold dress catching the light with every step. People turned to watch her, drawn in by her infectious energy and effortless charm.
Club V wasn’t just hosting tonight — it was celebrating. The article had been published a month ago, and its ripple effects were still being felt.
People couldn’t stop talking about the exposé: the bravery it took to write it, the justice it delivered, and the way it managed to balance the truth with the humanity of those who truly made this place what it was.
Both Calloway and Weston were behind bars now. Their trial had been swift — an open-and-shut case thanks to the overwhelming evidence, much of which had come directly from my own hands.
Watching them squirm on the stand, trying to talk their way out of crimes they’d committed so carelessly, had been vindicating in ways I couldn’t put into words.
I’d sat through every gruelling moment of that trial, dressed in sharp suits that made me look far more confident than I felt. And through it all, Jaxon was there. Always. Sitting just behind me, his quiet presence a reminder that I wasn’t alone.
I’d never be alone again.
Quinn was there too, of course, alongside Declan, Bennett, and even Ronan, who had flown in from some business trip or another just to make an appearance and crack a few sharp jokes in the courtroom hallway.
They were my people now, in the strangest and most unexpected of ways.
“Lost in thought?” A familiar voice pulled me back to the present.
I turned, smiling as Jax approached, looking devastatingly handsome in a tailored black tux. The man could’ve worn a burlap sack and still turned heads, but tonight he looked like he’d stepped out of the pages of a magazine. His dark eyes locked onto mine, that familiar spark of heat and mischief making my chest tighten in the best way.
“Just thinking about how far we’ve come,” I said, swirling my drink, “Feels a little surreal, doesn’t it?”
“Surreal’s one word for it,” he replied, his voice low and steady as he stepped closer, brushing his fingers against mine. “You’re the reason we’re all standing here tonight, Scout. Don’t forget that.”
I let out a soft laugh, shaking my head. “I didn’t do it alone.”
“You didn’t have to,” he said, his tone serious now. “But you were the one who stood up when no one else did. You took notice. You fought back. You didn’t just survive — you changed the game.”
I looked up at him, my throat tightening as I took in the weight of his words. Jaxon had a way of grounding me, of making me feel seen in a way that was both exhilarating and terrifying.
“Speaking of changing the game,” I said, deflecting just enough to keep myself from tearing up, “have you noticed Quinn? She’s been holding court with half the room all night.”
Jaxon smirked, glancing toward the area where Quinn stood, her laughter ringing out as she gestured animatedly to a group of sharply dressed men. “She’s making sure everyone knows V isn’t just a club — it’s an institution.”
“Well,” I said, tilting my head as I watched her work the room, “if this journalism thing doesn’t pan out, maybe I’ll take lessons from her.”
Jaxon chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Quinn’s a force of nature. No one leaves her conversations without being charmed — or bankrupt.”
As if on cue, Quinn excused herself from the photo op and came skipping back over to me, her energy as boundless as ever. She reached us in record time, looping an arm around my shoulders and pressing a cheeky kiss to my temple.
“Okay, okay, I’m back,” she announced, her grin as bright as the lights outside. “Now, where was I with your praise? Oh, right — Maddie Hart, you absolute queen.” She stepped back, her hands on her hips as she gave me an exaggerated once-over. “Look at you. Stunning. Glowing. The toast of Las Vegas. And you’re still dating him?” She jabbed a thumb in Jaxon’s direction without even glancing at him.
“Careful, Quinn,” Jaxon replied dryly, though his lips twitched into a smirk. “You’re about one comment away from me telling Ronan you’ve been stealing all his whiskey.”
Quinn gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. “Blasphemy. I’d never. Besides,” she added with a wink, “Shamrock’s too busy chasing after some 21-year-old skirt to notice. Poor girl!”
I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at her antics. “You’ve been doing the rounds like this all night, huh?”
Quinn shrugged, her grin utterly unrepentant. “ Someone has to keep the party alive. Declan’s doing his aloof I’m-too-cool-for-this thing, Ronan’s chasing anything with legs and boobs — shocking, I know. Leah’s stuck working the card tables, which means she’s officially and very devastatingly boring to me this evening, and Bennett’s lurking in the shadows somewhere, scaring the hell out of innocent guests with his cop vibes. So, yeah, that leaves me to be the life of the party. And, honestly? I’m thriving.”
“Thriving?” I repeated, arching a brow.
She grinned wider, lifting her glass like it was a trophy. “ Thriving ! Someone has to take one for the team and be the fun one.”
Jaxon chuckled low in his chest, shaking his head. “You’re something else, Quinn.”
She flashed him a mischievous grin. “You’re just mad because I tell it like it is.”
I raised an eyebrow at her, trying to suppress my laughter.
“Not my fault Ronan’s got the attention span of a goldfish,” she quipped, sipping her drink. “Besides, someone has to call him out before he becomes a full-blown cliché.”
“Pretty sure he hit that milestone years ago,” Jaxon muttered, his tone dry but amused.
Quinn rolled her eyes dramatically, tossing her hair over her shoulder with exaggerated flair. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave — for now. But seriously, Maddie,” she said, her gaze softening as she turned her full attention to me. The teasing melted away, replaced by something more sincere. “You’ve been through hell and back, babe. You deserve this — every bit of it. If I have to be the one to steer this ship so you can enjoy your night to the fullest, then so be it.”
Jaxon, standing steady at my side, smirked. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”
Quinn turned her head sharply, levelling him with a pointed look. “You couldn’t afford me, Brooks,” she quipped, one brow arched.
“Lucky for me,” he shot back, his tone cool as his arm snaked securely around my waist, “I already have the best right here.”
Quinn made a gagging sound, though her grin never faded. “Ugh. You two are insufferable. I love it. I’m getting another drink.”
She sauntered off, her gown shimmering under the club lights, leaving Jaxon and I alone again.
“She’s…” Jaxon said after a moment, shaking his head, his voice tinged with affection.
“She’s the best,” I finished for him, watching as Quinn animatedly gestured to someone across the bar, her laughter ringing out like music in the lively room.
“Yeah,” he said quietly, pulling me closer, his arm tightening protectively around my waist. “You both are.”
The chaos of the room seemed to fade. All I felt was the steady rhythm of his heart against mine and the warmth of his presence. It was grounding, comforting — a reminder that no matter how wild life had been, we’d found our way through it.
I tilted my head up to look at him, my heart swelling as I took in the way his dark eyes softened when they met mine. “You’re really leaning into this whole sappy thing, aren’t you?” I teased, though my voice was gentle.
He smirked, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Can you blame me? I’ve got the love of my life in my arms, and for once, everything feels… right.”
My chest tightened at his words, the sincerity in his voice stealing my breath. “Jax…”
“What?” he asked, his smirk widening slightly. “Too much?”
I shook my head, a soft laugh escaping me.
He leaned down, his lips brushing against my temple, and for a moment, it felt like the rest of the world didn’t exist. Just us. Just this.