Chapter 20 Orion
Orion
The restaurant was one of Leo’s favorites, featuring intimate lighting, an exceptional wine list, and a location far enough off the Strip that we could have a conversation without being overheard.
I’d suggested we take Tashi and Marta out for dinner, partly because Tashi needed a break from the suffocating tension of her suite and partly because I wanted to get a read on her best friend.
Marta turned out to be exactly what Tashi needed: loud, irreverent, and completely unfazed by the chaos surrounding us.
“So,” Marta said, gesturing with her wineglass in a way that made me worry about the white tablecloth. “You want to know how I know Tashi well enough to fly across the country and force her to shower?”
“Marta,” Tashi protested, her cheeks flushing.
“What? It’s a valid question.” Marta turned to me with a grin. “Our mothers were friends back in the day. Best friends, actually. So, Tashi and I have known each other forever. Since we were babies, really.”
“Marta’s mom used to joke that we shared a crib,” Tashi added, some of the tension leaving her shoulders as she settled into the familiar rhythm of their friendship.
“We basically grew up as sisters,” Marta continued. “Which is why I know when she’s spiraling and needs someone to snap her out of it.”
“I appreciate you being here,” I said honestly. “She needs people in her corner right now.”
“Damn right she does.” Marta took a sip of wine. “Though I have to say, you three are doing a pretty good job of that yourselves.”
“We try,” Leo said with his easy charm that made everyone feel comfortable.
“You know what’s funny?” Marta pulled out her phone. “Tashi looks exactly like her mother. I mean, exactly. My mom gave me some old photos she’d digitized, and the resemblance is uncanny.”
“Please, Marta,” Tashi said, but there was fondness in her voice rather than real protest.
“No, really. Look.” Marta scrolled through her phone and pulled up an image. “This is from some company picnic or something. Early 2000s, I think.”
She handed me the phone, and I found myself looking at a photo of two young women laughing together. One was clearly Marta’s mother—I could see the family resemblance. The other was stunning, with warm brown skin, bright eyes, and a smile that could light up a room.
Tashi’s mother.
And Marta was right—the resemblance was striking. Same bone structure, same elegant neck, same way of tilting her head when she smiled.
But it was the background of the photo that made my blood run cold.
A man stood partially obscured by other picnic-goers, his profile just visible. Dark hair, a firm jaw, and a bearing that suggested confidence bordering on arrogance.
I knew that profile.
“Can you expand this?” I asked, trying to keep my voice neutral.
“Sure.” Marta took the phone back and zoomed in on the background figure.
The image appeared pixelated and fuzzy, but I could still make out enough details. The set of the shoulders. The way he held himself. The watch on his wrist that I’d seen a thousand times in board meetings.
“I can see the resemblance,” I said carefully, handing the phone back. “Can I get a copy of this photo?”
Marta looked confused but nodded. “Sure. I’ll text it to you. Why?”
“Just curious about the old photos,” I lied smoothly. “Tashi talks about her mother, but I’ve never seen pictures.”
Tashi smiled at me, unaware of the implications churning through my mind. “Mom was beautiful. Everyone said so.”
“She was,” I agreed, watching as Marta sent me the photo.
The rest of dinner passed in a blur. I smiled, laughed at the right moments, and made small talk about New York and Vegas and the differences between East Coast and West Coast living.
But my mind was elsewhere, running through possibilities, connections, and timelines that couldn’t be a coincidence.
After dessert, I escorted both women back to Tashi’s suite, kissed her goodnight with a gentleness I didn’t feel, and waited until the door closed before pulling out my phone.
Ares answered on the first ring. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m sending you a picture,” I said, already attaching the file. “It’s from an old company picnic in New York. Early 2000s. Tashi’s mother is in it.”
“Okay.”
“Look at the background. Tell me who you think that is.”
I waited, listening to Ares’s breathing change as he examined the photo.
Then he drew in a sharp breath. “Is that a young Henri Saltz?”
“You tell me.”
Silence. Then: “It could be. The angle’s bad, and the resolution is shit, but that profile…the watch… Orion, what are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking it’s not a coincidence that Henri seemed to recognize Tashi the first time he saw her. I’m thinking about how he looked at her—not like she was an employee, but like she was someone he knew. Someone personal.”
“You think Henri and Tashi’s mother—”
“I don’t know what to think,” I cut him off. “But I want you to find out everything you can about Henri Saltz in New York. I want you to find out where Henri Saltz worked, who he associated with, and any connections he had to Catherine George.”
“Catherine George. That’s Tashi’s mother?”
“Yes. And Ares? This stays between us for now. I don’t want to say anything to Tashi until we know more.”
“Understood.” I could already hear him moving, the keyboard clicking in the background. “I’ll start digging. If there’s a connection, I’ll find it.”
“I know you will.”
I hung up and stared at the photo on my phone. Twenty-five years ago, Henri Saltz and Catherine George attended what appeared to be a casual company event. Maybe it meant nothing. Maybe it was just a coincidence.
But I’d built a billion-dollar empire by trusting my instincts.
And my instincts were screaming that this changed everything.
The notification came at 8:47 a.m.
Emergency Board Meeting. Conference Room A. 10:00 a.m. Attendance Mandatory.
I stared at my phone, ice forming in my gut. Henri had moved faster than I’d expected.
“Leo,” I called, already pulling on my suit jacket. “We have a problem.”
By 9:45, Leo and I were in the executive elevator, both of us dressed for war in our best suits and grimmest expressions.
“Ares texted,” Leo said, checking his phone. “He’ll be there in a few minutes. Still tracking down some information.”
“Did he find anything on Henri?”
“He didn’t say. Just that he’s close to something.”
The elevator doors opened to reveal the executive floor already buzzing with tension. Board members were filing into Conference Room A, their faces carefully neutral but their body language screaming discomfort.
Henri stood outside the conference room like a general surveying his troops. When he saw us, satisfaction flickered across his face before he smoothed it into professional concern.
“Gentlemen,” he said. “Thank you for coming.”
“We didn’t have much choice,” I replied coolly.
“No. I suppose you didn’t.” Henri gestured toward the conference room. “Shall we?”
The room was already nearly full—all seven board members present, plus our corporate attorney, Greg Andrews, who looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, and Sarah Whitehorse, who represented our second-largest investor bloc.
Leo and I took our seats at the head of the table, the positions we’d occupied for seventeen years. The positions we’d earned through blood, sweat, and relentless dedication.
Positions that suddenly felt very precarious.
Henri called the meeting to order at exactly 10:00 a.m.
“Thank you all for coming on short notice,” he began, standing at the opposite end of the table like a prosecutor addressing a jury. “I’ve called this emergency meeting because of recent events that have brought the integrity and future of Olympus Royale into serious question.”
“Henri—” I started.
“Please, Orion. Let me finish.” His voice was calm and reasonable, like that of a man performing an unpleasant duty.
“Over the past week, we’ve been hit with multiple crises.
An investigation by the Gaming Commission is underway.
Allegations of workplace misconduct. Viral footage that has damaged our reputation and caused investor panic. ”
“All of which can be addressed—” Leo started.
“Can they?” Henri’s voice sharpened. “Because from where I sit, the Kolykos brothers have demonstrated a consistent pattern of behavior that puts this company at risk. The money laundering incident six months ago—”
“Which we reported and cooperated fully with authorities,” I interjected.
“The inappropriate relationship with a subordinate employee—”
“Consensual adults,” Leo said firmly.
“And now footage that has made us a laughingstock and triggered a Gaming Commission hearing that could cost us our license.” Henri looked around the table, making eye contact with each board member.
“I’ve served this company faithfully for seventeen years.
And I cannot, in good conscience, stand by while leadership makes decisions that endanger everything we’ve built. ”
“What are you proposing?” Sarah Whitehorse asked, though I suspected she already knew.
“I’m proposing that this board exercise its fiduciary duty and remove the Kolykos brothers from executive management, effective immediately.
” Henri’s voice was steady and final. “Their judgment has been compromised. Their behavior has been reckless. And they’ve demonstrated that they value personal gratification over corporate responsibility. ”
“That’s bullshit,” Leo said, his voice sharp enough to cut.
“Is it?” Henri pulled out a folder and distributed copies around the table.
“Here’s documentation of the Gaming Commission complaint.
The viral footage. Statements from investors threatening to pull funding.
A detailed analysis of the reputational damage we’ve suffered in the past seventy-two hours. ”
I scanned the documents in front of me. Everything Henri said was technically accurate, but it was framed to portray us in the worst possible light. Every decision we’d made, every choice, every moment of vulnerability—all weaponized against us.
“We’ve faced worse crises and survived,” I said, keeping my voice level. “This is manageable.”
“Is it?” Henri turned to Greg Andrews. “Andrews, you’ve been with us since the beginning. In your professional legal opinion, are the Kolykos brothers still fit to lead this company?”
Andrews looked uncomfortable, his gaze darting between Henri and us.
“I…the situation is certainly concerning. The Gaming Commission hearing represents a significant threat—”
“That’s not an answer,” I said.
“—but I believe that with proper legal counsel and strategic communications, we can navigate—”
“Andrews.” Henri’s voice was patient but firm. “Yes or no. Are they fit to lead?”
Andrew’s shoulders sagged. “No. Not given the current circumstances.”
The betrayal hit harder than I’d expected. Greg Andrews had been our attorney for seventeen years. He had celebrated our victories, weathered our crises, and stood beside us through every challenge.
And now he was voting against us.
“Sarah?” Henri asked.
Sarah Whitehorse wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I have a fiduciary duty to our investors. Given the current climate, I vote for new leadership.”
One by one, Henri went around the table. And one by one, the board members we’d worked with, laughed with, and trusted voted us out.
The final tally was six to three, with the three being Leo, myself, and me using Ares’s proxy.
“Then it’s decided,” Henri said, and I could hear the satisfaction in his voice even though his face remained professionally somber. “The Kolykos brothers are removed from executive management, effective immediately. I nominate myself as interim CEO until permanent replacements can be found.”
“Seconded,” Andrews said quietly.
“All in favor?”
Six hands rose.
“Congratulations, Henri,” I said, my voice like ice. “You’ve won.”
The conference room door burst open.
Ares stood there, breathing hard like he’d been running, his laptop under his arm and urgency written across his face. “Wait,” he said. “You need to hear this. I have information about Henri—”
“We’ve seen what we need to see,” Sarah Whitehorse interrupted, already gathering her papers. “Between the money laundering incident and this latest scandal, we’re done with your management.”
“But Henri—” Ares started.
“Isn’t on trial here,” Andrews finished. “You are. And the board has made its decision.”
I watched Ares’s face as the reality sank in. Whatever he’d found, whatever evidence he’d uncovered—it was too late.
We were out.
Henri was in.
In less than twenty minutes, we had lost most of what we’d built over seventeen years.
“Gentlemen,” Henri said, triumph clear in his voice. “I’ll need your key cards, access credentials, and passwords. You’re no longer employees of Olympus Royale. And neither is Ms. George. Security will escort you from the building.”
“You can’t be serious,” Leo said.
“I’m completely serious.” Henri gestured to the door.
“You can’t do that, Henri,” I said.
“I just did.”
“No. I mean, you can’t eject us from the Olympus Royale. You’ve forgotten that we bought the executive floor outright. The purpose was to inject cash into the hotel, but the outcome remains unchanged. You can’t evict us from our home.”
“That’s unacceptable.”
“Then sue us.” I stood, Leo and Ares following. “Let’s go. We need to talk to Tashi.”
“She doesn’t work here anymore,” Henri said.
“So you said. That doesn’t matter. She is our guest on the executive floor, which, as I just stated, we own. And one more thing, Henri. You may have voted us out of management, but we still own a majority share of the hotel. We’ll see how that works out for you.”
I let him chew on that while the three of us filed from the conference room.
But it didn’t matter.
We’d been ambushed.
And outplayed.
And we never saw it coming.