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“So, I was looking for you because I have an idea for your Tastemaker series.” Isabella’s eyes gleamed. That, combined with Sloane’s sudden grin, set off every alarm in my head.
“How do you feel about hosting a book preview for Wilma Pebbles’s upcoming dinosaur erotica?” Isabella asked. “I met her at a recent event, and she gave me an advanced copy ofPenetrated by the Pterodactyl. It’samazing, and she has a huge fanbase.”
I blinked, unsure whether she was fucking with me or deadly serious. It was always hard to tell with Isabella. “Um…”
“Think about it.” She glanced to the side, clearly distracted by the arrival of another movie star. “I’ll send you her backlist so you can get a feel for her books. I really think it’ll be a fun event!”
Then she was gone, leaving me to shake my head. “I thought she was going to ask me to host a preview ofhernew book, not Wilma Pebbles’s.”
“Oh, Isa’s love for dino erotica runs far deeper than her own career ambitions,” Sloane said, her grin widening. “Trust me.”
For my own sake, I declined to ask for further information.
Halfway through the night, Sloane and I split to mingle with different guests. I personally thanked everyone who’d helped me get the Vault off the ground, including Dominic Davenport, who seemed to be surgically attached to his wife’s side, and Sebastian, who’d pulled through with the catering.
“You pulled this off, man.” Sebastian clapped a hand on my shoulder. “Now I owe Russo ten grand.”
“You bet against me?” I asked with mock offense.
“I had faith in you, but Luca’s usually wrong.” He laughed. He glanced over my shoulder, and his smile turned into a smirk. “Speaking of Russos, I’ll leave you to this one. Good luck.”
He disappeared before I could respond, and Dante took his place.
We hadn’t talked since his holiday gala, but he appeared much more at ease tonight than he had at Valhalla. Perhaps he was finally settling into the rhythm of parenthood, or perhaps it was the near-empty glass of scotch in his hand.
“This is impressive,” he said, skipping the standard greetings. “I had my doubts about you, but you pulled it off.”
“Everyone keeps saying that,” I grumbled, but it was hard to stay annoyed when the night was going so well. “Thank you.”
Dante inclined his head, his gaze flicking to the bar where Vivian was talking to Sloane, Isabella, and Alessandra. It lingered on his wife for a soft moment before it returned to me and hardened.
“I have to admit, part of me was hoping you’d fail,” Dante said with surprising frankness. “I haven’t forgotten about Vegas, Miami, or the dozens of questionable situations you’ve dragged Luca into. However…” His voice turned dry. “If my brother can clean up his act after years of useless partying, I suppose you can too.”
Dante Russo, the king of backhanded compliments.
“I wouldn’t say the partying was useless,” I drawled. “It gave me the experience I needed to dothis.” I gestured around us.
Dante’s eyes narrowed a fraction of an inch. Then, to my shock, he let out a genuine-sounding laugh.
“Keep that same energy tomorrow,” he said, brushing past me to rejoin Vivian. “You’ll need it.”
Tomorrow. My first evaluation. The fate of eight billion dollars.
I would be lying if I said my stomach didn’t sink an inch at the reminder, but tomorrow was tomorrow. I’d done my best, and there was nothing I could do between now and morning that would move the needle in a meaningful manner.
So instead of worrying, I grabbed a drink from a passing server’s tray, tossed it back, and simply enjoyed the rest of the night.
I’d earned it.
* * *
Judgment Day took place the following morning via videoconference. Considering the pomp and circumstance that surrounded the reading of my father’s will, it seemed pretty anticlimactic for the fate of eight billion dollars to be decided over Zoom, but everyone was too busy to travel to Bogotá for an in-person gathering, so Zoom it was.
Sloane and I were both at my house, but for optics reasons, we took the call in separate rooms. I was in the library; she was in the living room.
Five faces stared back at me from the screen as I explained my business plan, my rebuilding efforts after the fire, and the opening’s smash success. The only thing I didn’t tell them was the fire sabotage part. Alex had sworn me to secrecy, and it’d raise more questions than it answered, especially after he told me he found the saboteur but “couldn’t disclose their identity at this time.” All he said was they had ties to a mercenary group that was targeting certain members of the business community for “confidential reasons.”
Part of me wanted details so I could take revenge on the person who’d caused so much strife, but a larger part was happy to keep the fire in my past and let the professionals deal with it.
