Chapter 4
Savannah’s shift ended an hour ago, but she wasn’t ready to go home. Instead, she found herself at a quiet high-limit lounge, sipping a vodka soda and staring at the Strip through floor-to-ceiling windows. The city was still alive, glowing neon against the dark, but to her, it felt different tonight. Distant. Almost hollow.
Alessia slid into the seat beside her, effortlessly composed as always. “Long night?”
Savannah smirked. “Aren’t they all?”
Alessia studied her for a moment. “You got the message about that VIP gig?”
Savannah tensed. “Yeah. You looked into it?”
Alessia nodded. “I don’t like it. Too many red flags. You pass on it?”
Savannah hesitated. “I was thinking about it. The money’s insane.”
“That’s how they get you,” Alessia said evenly. “The bigger the number, the worse the risk.”
Savannah sighed. “I know. It just sucks, you know? Seeing guys throw down ten grand for a table like it’s nothing, while we hustle for scraps.”
Alessia sipped her drink. “Vegas pays well. But only if you know when to walk away.”
Savannah nodded, but deep down, she wondered if she ever would.
The message came at 3 AM.
NIX: “Meet me at the spot. Need to talk. Now.”
Ethan stared at his phone, the glow illuminating his face in the darkened room. He was still half-drunk, the buzz of the night clinging to his skin like sweat. His gut told him to ignore it, but he was already grabbing his jacket.
The “spot” was a parking garage just off the Strip, a place where conversations could happen without eyes or ears. Nix was pacing when Ethan arrived, a cigarette burning between his fingers. He looked like shit.
“You look worse than usual,” Ethan said, stepping closer.
Nix exhaled sharply, running a hand through his disheveled hair. “Yeah, well, that happens when you owe fifty grand to the wrong people.”
Ethan’s stomach twisted. “Tell me you’re kidding.”
“Wish I was,” Nix muttered. “I just need time. A week, maybe two. But they’re not exactly patient.”
Ethan let out a slow breath. “So what do you need from me?”
Nix hesitated. “There’s a guy. Runs underground games. High stakes, no limits. If I can get a seat, I can flip this.”
“Jesus, Nix. You’re betting more?”
“It’s not just a bet. It’s a guarantee.” Nix’s eyes were wild with desperation. “I just need the buy-in. I need you to front me ten grand.”
Ethan barked a laugh. “You think I just have ten grand lying around?”
“I know you can get it.” Nix’s voice was lower now, pleading. “You’re connected, Ethan. You serve the kind of people who piss away that much on wine.”
Ethan clenched his jaw. He knew he should walk away. But Nix was his friend, and Vegas had a way of making people believe in impossible wins.
“Give me a day,” Ethan finally said. “I’ll see what I can do.”
As he turned to leave, he paused. “You know they just knocked down the Tropicana? New stadium’s going up for the A’s.”
Nix frowned. “Yeah, so?”
Ethan gave him a long look. “So if you’re not careful, you’re gonna end up buried under home plate.”
Roman sat across from Dante Rossi in a private booth at one of the Strip’s quieter lounges. Dante was all tailored suits and slick charm, but Roman knew better than to be fooled by appearances.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Dante said, stirring his drink.
Roman shrugged. “Busy.”
Dante chuckled. “We’re all busy. But when I make an offer, I expect an answer.”
The offer was simple: Dante wanted in on Roman’s club. More money, more influence. But Roman had seen what happened when guys like Dante got a foothold.
“I appreciate the interest,” Roman said, keeping his voice neutral. “But I like things the way they are.”
Dante’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “That’s a shame. Because this isn’t just about you. It’s about the city. The future.”
Roman took a slow sip of his whiskey. “Vegas doesn’t have a future. Just a past that keeps repeating.”
Dante leaned in. “Be careful, Roman. You don’t want to be on the outside looking in when the next shift happens.”
Roman held his gaze. “We’ll see.”
Ethan left the meeting with his stomach in knots. He had found someone willing to stake Nix’s buy-in, but it came with strings. The kind that could choke a man.
As he walked through the casino, he spotted Alessia near the high-limit tables. She looked up, catching his eye.
“You look like hell,” she said as he approached.
“Thanks,” Ethan muttered. “Listen, I need to ask you something.”
Alessia raised an eyebrow. “That’s never a good sign.”
Ethan hesitated. “How do you know when you’re in too deep?”
Alessia studied him, then exhaled. “When you ask that question, it’s already too late.”
Ethan swallowed hard. He already knew that. He just didn’t know if he had the strength to walk away.
The game was set. The players were seated. The stakes were higher than ever.
And Ethan was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.
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