Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Adam
Gabe greets me with a handshake after Paul walks away. “So this is Bliss?” he says, and looks around.
“Where all your dreams come true,” I respond dryly.
Gabe eyes the other men, then does a leisurely sweep of the women and the living space. He raises an eyebrow. “Excellent taste.”
“Indeed. I’ll show you the rooms, but first, I’d like to introduce you to Joseph Blackwell, the CEO. He just walked in and he doesn’t typically attend casino events, preferring to remain in the background. I’d like to catch him before he leaves.”
Gabe grabs a glass of champagne off a passing server, one hand tucked in his slacks, his demeanor casual and collected. He’d make a perfect fit for Bliss.
Blackwell catches sight of us as we approach, his gaze ever calculating.
“Gabe Aldridge,” I say, “this is Joseph Blackwell, the mastermind behind Bliss.” I rattle off Gabe’s stats from when he played in the NFL, as well as his current professional accolades. “I was just about to regale Gabe with the virtues of Bliss.”
Blackwell chuckles. “Bliss has many virtues. This magnificent suite, for one, and other intrinsic qualities as well.” He gestures to a group of women sitting on a sofa a few feet away. “Our women are stunning, are they not?”
“Exquisite,” Gabe says.
“They are unlike any you’ve had. They are…how shall I say this…fresh. In fact, a few of them have their virginity intact.” Blackwell says this as though extolling the merits of a fine wine.
I choke on my champagne. “Excuse me,” I mutter, attempting to collect myself.
What the fuck?
“That is interesting.” Gabe glances over, his expression bland.
“I was unaware,” I say, keeping my tone level.
Blackwell looks about the room proudly. “Bliss is elite in luxury and pleasure. It doesn’t get better than this. Anything you want is at your fingertips.”
“For a hefty price,” Gabe says.
“But isn’t that life?” Blackwell asks. “We pay for quality, do we not? And the Bliss suites—the service and women it provides—are of unparalleled quality.”
Gabe swirls his champagne and swallows the last of it. “And the women? They’ve agreed to selling their virginity?”
Blackwell reaches out to a passing server and grabs a fresh glass of Dom, exchanging it for Gabe’s old glass. “Of course. The women are well provided for, with everything they could ever want.”
Except possibly their freedom.
Gabe nods and scans the room as though looking at the women with renewed interest. His gaze stops near the door. “And the burlesque dancers?”
Blackwell and I look in the direction he indicates…and son of a bitch, it’s Hayden. Here.
How the hell?
“The burlesque women can be bought as well,” Blackwell says.
“The brunette near the door appeals to me.”
My fists clench. Goddammit, what is Hayden doing? She was supposed to leave forty minutes ago.
Blackwell’s brow rises. “I can see to it that you have her—”
“Not that one,” I blurt, then blink back my panic. I’m not thinking clearly, and my voice sure as hell isn’t level anymore. “She’s not supposed to be here,” I say, but it comes out tense and angry.
Blackwell’s gaze takes in my features, and I wonder how much I’m giving away. “Oh? How did she end up here?”
I don’t respond.
He stares for another long moment, then snaps his fingers.
Eve glides closer. “Yes?”
“Please bring over the woman in the black wig near the door.”
She smiles. “My pleasure.”
Gabe glances at me. I sense his concern, but I don’t look, afraid I’ll give away more than I already have.
Eve speaks to Hayden and she nods warily. She and William walk over, and William shakes Gabe’s hand after introductions are made.
“Gabe wanted to meet the charming young woman you’re with, William,” Blackwell says.
William’s smile falters, and he glances at Hayden. “She’s my guest tonight. This is…”
“Sophia,” Hayden supplies in an unnaturally high voice, and I roll my eyes.
“Sophia, you say?” Blackwell’s gaze slides down her body. “Or is it Hayden?”
Hayden stiffens, her eyes darting to me.
Blackwell turns my way. “What is she doing here?”
“Leaving,” I say, and grab her arm.
He holds up his hand. “Just a moment, Adam.” He faces William. “Has Hayden seen the suites?”
William, a step behind the rest of us, stares. “Hayden?” His gaze rakes her body and he finally appears to clue in to what Blackwell realized the moment he set eyes on her. Our CEO may be a dick, but he is a smart bastard.
William looks back at Blackwell, chagrined. “Yes, sir. I thought she was one of the pinups here tonight.”
“I’m confused,” Gabe says. “I thought her name was Sophia.”
Blackwell glares at Hayden menacingly. “She will be no one soon.”
I flatten my hand on Hayden’s lower back and push her forward. “I’ll escort her out.”
“See that you take her to the security guards,” Blackwell says, a threat in his tone. “In the meantime, Eve will be happy to take care of Gabe. Won’t you, Eve?”
Eve’s face blanks, but she quickly replaces it with a smile. “Yes, of course.”
I don’t wait for Gabe’s response. I head to the door with Hayden, then stop abruptly. The guards standing nearest the front are staring us down. One of them remains at the door, but the other moves in our direction.
Somehow, Blackwell signaled them. I don’t know how, but he did.
“Hurry,” I whisper to Hayden. “The elevator.”
We cut across the living room to the emergency elevator and I press my hand against the keypad. The screen turns blue, recognizing my fingerprint, and I punch in the code I was given days ago—a second before my shoulder is yanked back. I spin around.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Paul eyes Hayden maliciously.
The soft ding of the elevator chimes and I hear the doors slowly open.
I make a fist and drive an uppercut to Paul’s chin. With my right hand—the one wearing the Blue Star ring.
Paul screeches and stumbles back. I tear off the ring, toss it at him, and shove Hayden in the elevator.
I pound the door-close button about a hundred times, and the doors finally react.
They close slowly, blocking out the party, the people staring at the commotion we’ve caused—and the guard still headed our way.
Paul, who’s bleeding from his chin and lip, talks rapidly on his phone, glaring at me as the doors finally shut.
There are only two floors this elevator goes to: the casino floor, and a regular guest floor the casino uses as a decoy for its Bliss members in case of an emergency.
I hit the decoy floor, and round on Hayden. “What in the hell are you doing here?”
“Don’t talk to me like that!”
I take a deep breath. “Explain, before I lose my mind.”
“Well, to be specific, you told me to leave the club, not Blue.”
“You’re using semantics on me now? I asked you to leave for the very reason we’re running away from the suite. Blackwell knows it’s you. Do you understand what that means?”
She bites the corner of her lip. “Right. Well, I hadn’t counted on that. I didn’t think he’d be here, and I certainly didn’t think he’d recognize me.”
I growl in frustration and stare at the ceiling. “That was your plan? To go unrecognized?”
“And to gather evidence,” she says. “I even brought my phone to take pictures. But, aside from kinky sex stuff the casino isn’t licensed for, I didn’t find much.”
“Oh there’s plenty of illegal stuff.” Her gaze is questioning. “I’ll tell you about it later,” I say, as the elevator dings for our floor.
The doors open and I grab Hayden’s hand. I look both ways down the hall, and catch a guard exiting one of the stairwells, his chest rising and falling on heavy breaths. “Fuck.”
“Who’s that?” Hayden says.
“Vido. Ex-military, petty theft—we gotta go.” I pull her in the opposite direction, practically dragging her.
Between her tight skirt and five-inch heels, we’ll never outrun him. “Take those things off!” I gesture at her feet.
She stares at me like I’m crazy, so I reach down, lift her foot, and pull off the damn shoe, along with its mate, shoving them in the pockets of my suit jacket. I grab the side of her skirt and tear it down the seam. “Run!”
The guard is almost on us, and this time, Hayden does as I say. We run for the opposite end, and enter the other stairwell. After flying down a flight of stairs, I pull her through the door to the next floor and we run for an elevator that’s blessedly open.
I punch the button for the bottom level, and lean over once the doors close.
“Why are they after us?” she asks, her breathing heavy.
“Because you were right.” I straighten and pull out my phone. I type out a quick text and tuck my phone away. “The Bliss venture is not legitimate, and the people providing Blackwell with drugs and illegal women are very bad news.”
“You mean undocumented women?”
“I don’t support that, Hayden. I never have.”
Her beautiful face contorts in anger. “You supported it by going along with it!”
The elevator doors open and I lead Hayden away from one of the main exits and toward a back hallway.
We pass through a kitchen behind a restaurant.
Workers look at us, and I check over my shoulder to make sure no one is following.
I open a door to the outside, and the scent of rotten meat hits us from a garbage bin the restaurants uses.
A black Escalade rounds the corner and screeches to a halt a few feet away.
Hayden tugs on my arm. “Hurry! We have to go back.”
“It’s okay.” I guide her to the Escalade. “It’s my security detail. I hired them after I decided to take Paul’s warnings seriously.”
Hayden climbs in the backseat barefoot, and I tuck in beside her. The driver tears out of the back alley. “You’re not going home tonight,” I say. “It isn’t safe.” She stares ahead and nods, seemingly stunned. I wrap my arm around her shoulders. “It’s going to be okay.”
She looks up. “How? I thought it was only Blackwell. That I’d find something at the casino I could take to the police. But the women…and from what you just said…”
“There are others working with Blackwell who are much more dangerous.”
She twists to face me. “Then we need to go to the police now. Before Blackwell and the Blue Stars get away with everything like they did last time. They know how to make it look as though the suites don’t exist.”
My phone vibrates, and I recognize it as an incoming call. I reach inside my pocket and check the caller ID, noting two missed calls from the same contact.
My forehead furrows. It’s one in the morning. Why is the family lawyer calling? “I’ve got to take this,” I say.
“Adam,” Bill Stevens says into the phone, sounding tired. “I apologize for the late phone call.” He pauses. “It’s your father… You need to go to the hospital.”