Chapter 3
Three
THAL’S PROPOSITION
THAL
The deep amber whiskey swirled in slow circles at the bottom of my glass, my third of the night. I signaled to the waitress for another pour and relaxed my gaze back to the crowd at the Chéri, the rooftop lounge atop the Paris Hotel.
It was a typical Friday night, and the place buzzed with youthful energy.
The patrons filling the open-air space under the fake Eiffel Tower danced to the beats from the DJ set up along the edge of the floor, their bodies moving with the pulsing bass, their skin illuminated by flashing neon lights that made the full moon overhead seem dim in comparison.
Round tables covered with crisp white linen tablecloths lined the perimeter, each filled with groups of tourists indulging in caviar, lobster beignets, and champagne.
It was almost enough to make me feel festive.
Almost.
But I didn’t have the luxury of indulging in my hedonistic urges, even though the warm whiskey buzz was slowly traveling through my veins and tempting me to surrender to an evening of debauchery on this clear, warm Vegas night.
I was on a mission and couldn’t lose focus.
It had been told to me that this nightclub was one of Daphne’s favorites, and in fact, it was rare for a Friday night to pass without her showing up. As I looked at every face in sight, I realized I wasn’t surprised.
Daphne was the kind of woman who could easily get lost in a place like this.
I imagined her dancing freely, with her head thrown back in joy, slightly buzzed, very happy, and completely blissful.
I pictured her hips moving in rhythm to the music, her hair flowing around her beautiful face, her body writhing sensuously.
I’d experienced all that and more in paradise with her. I still wasn’t sure if it felt like paradise because she was there or because of our location. I suspected it was her presence that made those memories so vivid and alive in my mind.
My cock twitched in my slacks, and I inhaled sharply.
But that was a long time ago.
Even now, I wonder sometimes if it was all just a dream.
Still, my feelings for Daphne never felt as incredible as they did when I was with her.
No. What had happened between us was real. It was rare. Nothing could change that, no matter how many times I tried to wish it away.
If I’d never met Daphne, everything would have been so different. But I had met her, and now I was paying for it.
If I knew what was best for me, I’d forget her. I’d walk out of this damn nightclub and never think about her again. But my brain and body betrayed me, leaving me in a constant, torturous state of thinking about her all the time. I’d somehow convinced myself that we needed each other.
The waitress brought my drink, and I tried to pace myself, taking small sips instead of downing the whole thing at once like I truly wanted to.
I leaned against the railing, scanning the faces of everyone who stepped onto the rooftop, each one stabbing me with disappointment as I realized they weren’t Daphne.
I let my eyes wander for a moment, my gaze drifting to the bustling street below.
From up here, the tourists looked like a line of ants marching along the road, going in and out on escalators, their tiny figures shifting color with the flashing lights of the Las Vegas strip.
The brake lights of cars moving down the street formed a continuous line of red that I could trace with my finger.
Vegas was nothing if not predictable.
Every day, crowds of tourists spill out of hotels and line the sidewalks.
They wander through casinos and malls like zombies, with their eyes averted and their attention stolen by the endless glow of flashing lights along their paths.
Workers open cafes, dealers sit at poker tables, roulette wheels spin, and visitors come for it all, eager to indulge and escape the monotony of their daily routines.
It all seemed so simple some days.
I envied them a little for seeing Vegas from the outside, with all the glitz, glam, and the entire spectacle of it. They didn’t realize what happened behind the scenes to keep this town running, to keep it safe, and to make it seem like the wild, unleashed monster they loved so much.
Behind the scenes, power was seized through manipulation and alliances, and wealth was accumulated through careful, strategic moves that sometimes turned violent. The tourists didn’t want to see any of it. As long as their champagne flutes remained full, they continued smiling.
I couldn’t remember the last time I had smiled.
I’d spent years building a version of myself made of steel and cold calculations, but Daphne was the magnet that pulled the atoms apart.
I wasn't here to “reconnect” or wallow in what I’d lost in the Caribbean.
I was here to lay a snare. If Zeno wanted to use her as a spy, he was going to learn the hard way that you don't send a bird to watch a predator.
When I saw her, silver sequins clung to her like a second skin, legs that went on forever, until they hit my wildest fantasies.
The “gentle” man I’d been in Aruba died a final death.
I didn't want the lightness she used to give me anymore.
I wanted the darkness of her, belonging to me.
The way she moved through the crowd was a mix of grace and provocation.
She noticed me first, but instead of walking toward me, she was painting the room. Her eyes flickered to the two guards at the elevator and then to the fire escape behind the DJ booth, a clinical coldness in her gaze that contrasted with her shimmering silver dress.
She was a predator mapping her exits, not a woman in a club. I watched her approach with the cold patience of a man who had already won the game, but for the first time, I wondered if I was the one being trapped.
She thought she was the one walking into an ambush, but she had no idea I’d been waiting for her to come home to me.
“Daphne, good evening,” I said, keeping my tone steady.
She raised an eyebrow, a smirk curling on her crimson lips, as if amused by my attempt.
“Do you always ambush women on rooftops?” she asked.
“I wouldn’t exactly call this an ambush.” I shrugged, nonchalantly.
“Call it what you want,” she replied with a hint of a smile. “But this doesn’t seem like the kind of place you’d normally frequent.”
“It looks exactly like the kind of place you’d hang out at,” I shot back.
She paused, tilting her head with a faint, contemplative smile, then burst into laughter.
“Cut the crap, Thal,” she said, shaking her head with a mix of amusement and exasperation. “You’ve had me followed, haven’t you?”
“If I said no, would you believe me?” I asked, my eyes fixed on hers, fighting the urge to drown in her ample cleavage.
I took a slow breath to steady my racing thoughts, only to regret it as her familiar perfume wafted over, threatening to undo me.
“Can I get you a drink?” I asked, my voice steady but casual. When she nodded, I signaled to the server, who approached right away. “I'll have another whiskey,” I said, then turned toward Daphne, offering a small smile. “And you?"
“Champagne, please,” she replied, her tone brief and slightly sharp. Her voice indicated irritation, clearly annoyed that I had intruded on her space. I knew I would need to be cautious to get past her defenses.
From the corner of my eye, I admired her stunning appearance, aiming to sound playful and charming.
“You look amazing,” I said, hoping to see a softening in her response. She looked past me, her eyes fixed on the crowds of tourists below, the flickering dance floor lights shimmering across her smooth skin.
I wanted to tell her that the only time she had shone brighter was the night we made love under the full moon on the beach, but I sensed she didn’t want to be reminded of that moment.
Suddenly, she turned her head toward me, her eyes flashing with something unreadable, something I couldn’t quite identify.
“Why are you here, Thal? What do you want?" Her words sliced through all the bullshit between us like daggers. If she wanted clarity and honesty, I’d give it to her.
“I’m here to see you.”
“Obviously,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Why?”
I took a deep breath, ignoring her sarcasm. “I came to tell you that I know what you’re doing, Daphne. I’m not stupid. I know the truth.”
“Excuse me? What is this truth you speak with such arrogance? You don’t know anything about me, Thal.”
“Not true. I know that you’re working for Zeno, for starters.”
“That’s not a secret. I’ve known Zeno almost my entire life.”
“That’s not what I mean,” I said, a flash of anger rushing through me. “I know he has you spying on me.”
“Spying on you?” she scoffed. “Wow, Thal, I knew you had a big ego, but this is a step too far, don’t you think?”
“Deny it all you want.” I shrugged. “As I said, I know the truth.”
“Is that so?” she asked, grinning at me. “Why are you so sure of yourself?”
Fuck.
It would have been much simpler if she wasn’t so fucking stunningly beautiful. If I wasn’t so captivated by her, none of this would matter. The worst part was that she didn’t even realize she was just a pawn in Zeno’s world, implying she could be much more if she managed to break free from him.
“Daphne, Zeno is beyond manipulative. Are you sure you know who you’re dealing with?”
“Better than you do,” she said, no longer hiding her annoyance.
“You’re blind to the way he’s using you. You deserve better, Daphne.”
“Do I?” she quipped. “Please enlighten me, Thal. What is it that you think I deserve?”
“Zeno will never give you power, Daphne. He’ll dangle it like a carrot in front of your nose, suck every ounce of energy from your veins, and leave you with nothing to show for it.
“Wow, Thal,” she scoffed. “You’ve been putting a lot of thought into this, I see.”
“That’s true. I have,” I admitted. “In fact, Daphne, I have more than a proposal. I have the only lifeline you’re ever going to get.”