Chapter 1
Giada
A smoldering remnant of cigarette smoke lingered in the air. That the place didn’t smell like the bottom of an ashtray in a dive bar was remarkable. Even with the multitude of smoky clouds wafting up over the slot machines and gaming tables, the air was relatively breathable. I could only imagine how dense the air must have been before the invention of air purification equipment.
Between the smoke, sensory overload, and mobs of raucous tourists pledging to create memories worthy of the Vegas namesake, the place should have been repulsive. Yet I loved every damn thing about it. The bright colors and flashing lights. The excess and indulgence. Luxury and opulence. The intense emotions that saturated the air and electrified my skin, making my heart skip and flutter in my chest. It was all magnified to a point of bursting by the throngs of people who flocked to this den of debauchery from all over the world. Rich people, poor people, people of every ethnicity and culture all crammed together and given license to act out their wildest fantasies. To drop social constructs and expectations and let their freak flags fly.
It was magnificent.
The only complaint I ever had about my time in Vegas was finding my way around the damn casinos. I had no doubt they were specifically designed to disorient and trap their hapless victims within. I hated having to find my way back to the table where I’d left my cousin and sisters. It was always a harrowing journey. If the cleaning staff weren’t so diligent, I’d have left a bread crumb trail for myself.
This time, I’d been wandering aimlessly for close to fifteen minutes through the Wheel of Fortune and Monopoly slot machines when I spotted my girls in the distance just past a bank of sparsely occupied gaming tables. I started in their direction but was sidetracked when my eyes were drawn to a man standing at one of the tables, seemingly uninvolved in whatever game was being played. From where he stood, I could see his angular profile as he stared with laser focus at the table where my girls huddled together. They were laughing and watching their own game, oblivious to the attention they had garnered.
I smirked, knowing the Genovese women were an eye-catching group. I could hardly blame the guy. Everywhere we went, we turned heads. Between our good genes and the money to emphasize all our best features, we were striking even on a bad day. Dolled up for the Vegas nightlife? We were unstoppable.
It might have sounded conceited, but it was the truth. I saw nothing wrong with owning my strengths, whether it be my outgoing personality, my effortless style, or my good looks. Society wouldn’t knock a girl for advertising her PhD in astrophysics, so why couldn’t I be proud of my thick auburn hair and eyes so green they’d been called hypnotic?
I was confident in my body, so sue me.
Chest out and chin lifted, I slowly advanced on the man ogling my sisters and cousin. Though I couldn’t see his entire face, I could tell he was also gifted in the looks department. That was putting it modestly. He was ridiculously gorgeous. The kind of gorgeous that made you forget your train of thought midsentence. Stole your breath and made you wonder if you were hallucinating. Men that beautiful were usually restricted to magazine covers and movie screens.
His profile boasted a straight nose and a strong jaw covered in a smattering of hair the same sandy color as the long locks combed back behind his ears. Judging by his sun-kissed hair and golden skin, he spent plenty of time in the sun, but his tailored suit spoke of boardrooms and penthouses rather than surfboards and beaches. Curious. I wondered which stereotype more aptly suited him—the businessman or the beach bum. If the intensity of his stare was any testament to his countenance, carefree surfer was no longer an option.
My sisters and cousin melted from existence as his magnetic aura lured me into his orbit. I eased up to the craps table next to where he leaned, propped gently on his elbows with an unlit cigar dangling from his fingers. He was a vision of power and privilege, packaged in expensive Italian silk, his posture dripping indifferent boredom.
Following his line of sight, I stared at the girls for a moment, taking them in as an outsider might. “I hope you don’t have your sights set on the brunette in red. She got engaged just a few days ago.” I let the words drift toward him while keeping my gaze fixed ahead.
He showed no signs of distress over being caught staring. He didn’t even take his eyes from their target. “The one in silver doesn’t look legal.” The faintest hint of an accent feathered his words, the cadence a caress against my bare skin.
“That’s because she’s not.” Valentina wouldn’t be eighteen for another five months, but she had a fake ID and curves that got her into most bars without issue.
The man rolled his cigar between his thumb and fingers next to his lighter and a stack of chips. “That might not bother some men.”
“I suppose if you like the blushing virgin who has no idea what she’s doing.” Val wasn’t exactly the blushing type, but he didn’t know that. My words were meant more as a challenge to him rather than a reflection of my sister’s dating habits.
His gaze finally slid my way, giving me my first view of his eyes, gray like polished steel and equally as sharp. His deep-set eyes had a slight uptick that gave him a regal intensity. The dichotomy of such harsh beauty was captivating. Unnerving.
“Age isn’t always an accurate indicator of experience or maturity,” he replied. Those reflective eyes were penetrative and severe as if they’d peered into my soul and found me lacking.
If he wanted to judge me, he’d have to get in line.
I continued our parry, unaffected. “Nor is maturity a guarantee of a good time, but it improves your odds significantly. And isn’t that what everyone wants when they come to Vegas? To come out a winner?”
“Undoubtedly, but everyone’s definition of winning is different. Some of us may have our sights set on simply walking away emptyhanded—no better or worse than we arrived.”
“You strike me as the type of man who would have his sights set on far more than breaking even.”
“Yet I’ve already gotten what I came for tonight. Anything more would only complicate things, and I hate complications.” He turned fully toward me, leaning on his elbow in a deceptively casual pose. The startling severity of his gaze pushed against me abrasively, a blatant challenge at odds with the air of indifference he attempted to broadcast in every other way. His emotionless features were smooth and unbothered, forming a mask of apathy that would have been believable if it hadn’t been for those silver, shiver-inducing eyes. They were raging storms, brilliant thunderclouds rife with lightning and electric wrath. A chink in his armor that gave away just how much more was brewing beneath the surface.
He was captivating and breathtakingly beautiful, not to mention arrogant and detached.
He was also out of luck because this girl didn’t beg for any man’s attention.
I cocked my head and shrugged. “Too bad. Emptyhanded it is, then.” My red-stained lips drew back in a Cheshire grin as I eased away from the table and walked toward my girls without glancing back at the mysterious man.
My hips swayed with each step, the penetrating weight of his stare making me feel naked as I crossed the casino floor. Other girls might have felt awkward or embarrassed, but I preened like a peacock flaring its feathers for maximum visibility. My strides remained unhurried and even as I basked in an adrenaline high just as potent as any drug could provide.