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6
ZANDER
I WOKE BEFORE THE SUN, stretching in front of the large window at the foot of my bed as I looked out over the city. A haze of the impending heat of the day covered the city, promising a scorcher. Past the buildings and the glitz of Vegas was a dry desert, dehydration reaching out on all sides of us.
Sin City continued to party, and the streets below stayed busy with people welcoming a fresh day with new sinful plans. At times, it was exhausting to live in a town that never slowed down. The need to stay alert and aware of the wave of people could take its toll if you allowed it, but I never did. Nothing broke through my barriers.
Cold.
Calculated.
My eyes stayed on the prize.
And now that I had reached the top, I had to continue maintenance to stay there. If I could take the crown from the ones I worked for in the past, I was aware the crown could be stolen from me, as well. Over my dead body would that happen, and so, I continued to hustle.
Scratching at my hard stomach, I spent an hour in the gym, pushing away the exhaustion with seventy-five-pound weights and taking out my frustrations on the punching bag. Once I finished, sweat slicked my dark skin, and I felt satisfied that I had tamed my frustrations for the day.
Afterward, I made my way to the bathroom for an invigorating shower to wash away my workout and rid myself of the morning wood still throbbing between my thighs. When I emerged from the marble shower, I dressed for the day in a dark suit and ran my fingers through my damp hair. Once I left my penthouse, the sun was up, and I was feeling refreshed and ready to take on the day.
I rode the elevator down to the first floor, and when the doors opened, the sounds of slot machines and obnoxious laughter spilled into the space around me. I stepped onto the floor, my shiny shoes tapping against the emerald green marble beneath my feet, and the waitstaff smiled as they passed me.
“Good morning, Mr. Hale,” a few said as they made their way into the back to reload their trays for breakfast.
I nodded, acknowledging them. I wasn’t much for smiling. The staff knew that about me and didn’t expect much in the way of conversation. It wasn’t my job to be friendly with the staff. It was my job to make sure things ran as smoothly as possible.
The main lobby was already busy with new guest check-ins and such. I nodded at Amos, the front desk attendant, and he came toward me.
“Everything good?” I asked, adjusting my sleeve so I didn’t have to make eye contact with him.
“Yes, sir. A well-oiled machine as usual. Is there anything I can get for you?”
“No. If you see Kade, send him my way please.”
“Absolutely, sir. Enjoy your day.”
I nodded instead of responding before I turned toward the bar to check for any drunks who may have passed out at the bar.
I stepped into the ample bar space, the green neon lights illuminating my face, and I let my eyes scan the bar. People were still there drinking and laughing. A few danced to the music playing from the speakers overhead, but there were no sleepers at the bar.
I turned to leave, letting my eyes skim the room once more, and I paused when my sights landed on an angel across the room.
She was smiling at Kennedy, her face glowing with happiness as she threw her head back and laughed at something.
I swallowed, my demons beginning to choke me as my addiction reared its ugly head.
She was beautiful.
No.
She was so much more than the word could define.
Her skin was untouched ivory, no scars, piercings, or tattoos that I could see marring her beautiful flesh. Her cheekbones were high and naturally flushed, her lips thick and pouty and pink.
She was small—her tiny frame almost swallowed up by the crowds around her—yet she managed to stay afloat in the wave of people, maneuvering around the room like she was a permanent fixture in the room.
She wasn’t.
I had never seen her before.
