King of Hearts (Billionaires of Vegas #1)

Prologue

Four years.

It had been four fucking years since Las Vegas encountered the most violent—and most consequential—day of its existence.

For some reason, they didn’t.

Rumors abounded that they had turned inward, attempting to quell outside investigations by major players like the FBI.

Some said that they had fled to Mexico and elsewhere.

Others said that the reason was more like Occam’s Razor—they had simply found something better than blowing shit up and getting into shootouts with rival clubs.

Love, apparently.

Multiple members of the motorcycle club, spanning every state they inhabited, had gotten married. Some even had kids. I suppose that has a way of slowing you down. If I were to be nice, I would say that if they really wanted that, good for them.

But I’m not nice.

I just know how to fake being nice.

That’s the difference between the Black Reapers and me, Cassius Vale, billionaire owner of the newest casino in Las Vegas, Ruby. They only get power through violence. I know how to get it without it blowing up in my face.

One look at the Reapers is all you need to know they’re trouble.

They couldn’t get a bank loan for a Subway sandwich if they tried.

All those tattoos, wild hairstyles, stenches of cigarettes and booze and God knows what the fuck else—it forces them to make their power plays overt.

You never have to question whether a Black Reaper wants something from you, because they’ll stand over you, bump you, and tell you to do it or else. A growling pit bull has more subtlety.

That’s fine.

That approach might work if you kept your ambitions small. Run a local town. Protect your club and your women. Get sex, drugs, and everything else on the cheap.

But if you craved true power? If you wanted to hold an entire city in your palm? If you wanted the kind of control I have over everyone from politicians to police to, dare I say it, other dangerous men?

You have to be smarter than that. You have to hide the monster in you behind a nice suit, a well-groomed haircut, and a smile for the press.

King almost got it right—but he couldn’t control his temper.

He couldn’t control those closest to him.

It’s the most overlooked part of his story—it wasn’t a Black Reaper that killed King, but his own fucking son.

I might have come to Vegas with three of my brothers. I might have rivals who would crush me if they had the chance. I might have to keep a closer eye on my family than on my enemies.

But me?

I’m Cassius Vale. I play the long game. Only one person in my life has ever made me second-guess my decisions, and she destroyed a part of my life so badly she’s lucky I haven’t called in a Reaper to cut her throat.

I run Las Vegas now.

I am the King of Hearts, the most powerful billionaire in Las Vegas.