Chapter Fifty #2
Gio and Lorenzo think I’m in denial. That I should accept she’s gone. Move on.
But there’s no moving on. Soraya was the start of my life. And she’ll be the end of it.
~
AFTER TWO YEARS of work, phase one of the Volador projects with the Koreans is ready to launch. A series of entertainment ventures aimed at redefining the Vegas experience. It’s shaping up to be one of the most electrifying projects I’ve ever partnered on. A true game-changer.
The official unveiling is set for tomorrow.
Tonight’s the private pre-launch celebration for the faces behind the curtain, and I arrive with Mayor Lucy Rainford on my arm.
Black ties and evening gowns fill the room, champagne flowing.
Conversations buzz with insider jokes, calculated small talk and subtle power plays.
I’d rather be anywhere else, but showing up is nonnegotiable. It’s business.
Lucy strokes my arm as we drift around the room, from one circle of chitchat to the next. She leans in and brushes her nose against my jaw. “How about we end the celebration at my place?”
“I’m good.”
Her long nails dig lightly into my bicep. “Are we really never going to fuck again?”
“That’s right.” I glance pointedly at the diamond-studded choker around her neck and sip my champagne. “You’re my pet now, remember? You come when I call, and do what I tell you.”
She rolls her lips and nods. “It’s more mercy than I deserve. I understand that. I just don’t see why sex can’t be part of my punishment, too. I’m even down for a little degradation and defilement, if that helps.”
“I don’t stick my cock in women I can’t trust.”
Not true. I’m just not interested in fucking anyone who isn’t my little liar.
“Hate fuck can be fun, Castello.”
“Be quiet.”
Against sound advice, and my own better judgment, I kept her alive after Vale’s failed coup. Not out of care or emotion, but pity.
Before her betrayal, we had a thing for a while. Developed a quasi-friendship built on blunt honesty. I know her.
At her core, she’s genuine. Just naive and inexperienced in this game.
She ran for mayor without understanding the brutal calculus of real power.
Didn’t realize how dirty it gets at the top, that there’s no keeping her hands clean.
And when the war came, she tried to play both sides to survive.
It wasn’t malice, it was fear. Desperation to stay alive in a world that doesn’t forgive weakness.
Knowing that, I made a different call. Instead of sending her to the grave, I made her my pet.
Not to punish her, as she believes, but to drill one cardinal lesson into her tender brain: in this business, there are no gray areas.
No straddling the line. You pick a side, and you stay fucking loyal. Uncompromisingly loyal.
Now, even as mayor, she does nothing without my approval. Every decision goes through me. But the frustrating irony is that she’s enjoying being my pet. Gets off on being under my control.
Which means she’s not learning a damn thing.
A tall brunette server glides past with a tray of finger foods, and the rich warm glow from the opulent chandelier above hits the gold necklace at her throat, grabbing my attention.
My pulse quickens, spine going cold.
A “444” pendant.
“Be right back,” I mutter to Lucy, hurrying after the server.
As I weave between tuxedos and gowns, another server crosses my path. Skinny guy. Bulbous nose. Something glints on his vest. A gold lapel pin of a lion’s head with 444 in its mouth.
I grab his arm, and he jerks to a stop, turning fast. His annoyed frown vanishes the second he sees me, his voice quick and apologetic as he rushes out, “I’m sorry, Mr. Castello, I—”
“That pin,” I cut in, “where did you get it?”
“Oh, uh, it’s a gift,” he answers quickly. “A new investor in our catering company gifted us gold pins and necklaces earlier this evening.”
“What do you know about this investor?”
“N-nothing.” He hesitates, looking frightened. “I don’t…I know nothing about them, sorry.”
I let go and he hurries off.
Glancing around, I listen through the chatter and laughter and clinking flutes, scanning faces, searching for...I don’t even know what.
What’s the message, little liar? What are you trying to tell me? Are you here? Are you close? Do you want me to find you?
A hand settles on my shoulder and I jolt around, pulse spiking.
“Whoa, man. It’s just me.” Gio holds his hands up, taking a step back. “You okay? You look lost. Don’t tell me you’re going senile on me already.”
“She’s here...” The words fall out, thick and sluggish. Maybe I am going senile.
“What? Who’s here?” He dips his chin and squints, reading me. Then sighs. “Ah, man. This is about her again, isn’t it? Seriously, Stefano. You’ve got to get over—”
I stride off, laser-focused, cutting through to the upper right of the room. Through the open door. Up the short hallway.
The swinging doors to the kitchen slap shut behind me as I push through, stepping into a hive of activity, caterers and servers darting in and out. For a brief moment, the room falls silent. They all pause to look at me, then quickly get back to work.
Perfectly aware I’m making them nervous, I move deliberately slowly around the room, searching every face, every corner, opening every door, checking every compartment…
And then I just…stop. Fists clenched as the weight of my own stupidity crashes down on me.
What am I even doing? Fucking hell, I feel like a goddamn pussy-controlled idiot. A madman. This is what she does to me. Burrows into my mind like a virus and twists me up. Must be a real thrill for her, messing with my goddamn head like this.
Clearing my throat, I adjust my tie then head back to the party.
Lucy slips her arm through mine, her smile effortless, and we fall back into the rhythm of the night. Smooth and unruffled.
There are 444s all around me, but I ignore them. Done playing Soraya’s game. I’ve done enough. Suffered enough. Endured enough. If she wants me, she knows where to find me.
It’s her move now.