Page 1 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

One

ANDY

S taring at my reflection in the dingy bathroom mirror, I felt like throwing up.

The guy looking back at me, with his dark hair in disarray and haunted eyes, was a mess.

My stomach churned, an endless loop of dread playing out inside me.

My mouth felt dry as sandpaper, and no amount of cold water splashed on my face seemed to wash away the sense of impending doom.

A week ago, I was riding high on dreams. Just seven days back, my head buzzed with visions of success and the promise of a new life. But now? Now I was staring at the shattered pieces of those dreams.

“Dammit, Sean,” I muttered under my breath, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white.

Sean, my so-called friend and business partner, had managed to lose two million dollars in a gambling spree. The very funds we borrowed from billionaire James Maxwell to kickstart our venture. I felt sickened by the betrayal and stupidity of it all. Two million dollars gone in the blink of an eye.

The guy in the mirror didn’t have any answers. His face was pale, eyes wide with fear. I ran a hand through my hair and splashed more cold water on my face, but it did nothing to quell the nausea twisting my gut.

I thought about James Maxwell and his cold, calculating eyes. The man didn’t make deals; he made investments. And he expected returns. A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined his reaction when he found out about Sean’s colossal screwup.

“We were so close,” I whispered to myself, recalling the thrill of our pitch meeting with Maxwell. The excitement, the adrenaline… It all felt like a cruel joke now.

I turned away from the mirror and paced around the cramped apartment. Every step echoed with my rising panic. The walls seemed to close in on me as if mocking our downfall.

I glanced at my phone lying on the kitchen table. It held messages from Sean that I couldn’t bear to read right now—apologies and excuses that meant nothing when two million dollars had vanished into thin air.

With each passing second, reality sunk its claws deeper into me. The dream was over before it even began, and we were left with nothing but ashes.

“How could you be so stupid?” I barked at no one in particular, anger mingling with fear in a volatile cocktail inside me.

The clock ticked loudly on the wall—a reminder that time was running out for us to fix this colossal mess before James Maxwell came knocking. And when he did, there would be hell to pay.

My phone dinged, yanking me from my spiraling thoughts. I grabbed it off the table, my hands trembling slightly. A message from Finley lit up the screen. Hey, I’m at work and I see Sean. He’s putting in big at the poker table.

My heart nearly stopped. The idiot was about to blow the last of our savings. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, sweeping away any semblance of calm.

Without a second thought, I bolted out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab my keys. The drive to The Maxwell’s was a blur of honking horns and screeching tires. My mind raced faster than the car, images of Sean throwing away our last chance flashing before my eyes.

By the time I skidded into the parking lot of the hotel resort where Finley worked as a cleaner, my knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. I stumbled out of the car and sprinted toward the entrance, my breath coming in ragged gasps.

The moment I stepped inside, I was hit by a wall of glitz and glamour. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. High rollers in designer suits laughed and sipped champagne at velvet-covered tables, their fortunes multiplying with each turn of a card.

It all felt like a cruel joke—a stark contrast to the dread gnawing at my insides. While they reveled in their excess, my world was teetering on the brink of collapse.

I scanned the crowded room until I spotted Sean sitting at a poker table with a reckless grin plastered on his face. Chips piled high in front of him, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“Sean!” My voice cracked as I yelled his name.

He turned just in time to see me charging toward him like a madman. Before he could react, I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him away from the table.

“What the hell are you doing?” he slurred, clearly intoxicated.

Chaos erupted around us as chips scattered across the floor and players shouted in protest.

“You idiot!” I shouted. “You’re blowing everything!”

Sean struggled against me, but fear and adrenaline gave me strength. We crashed into another table, knocking over drinks and sending more chips flying.

I didn’t care about anything except getting Sean out of there before he destroyed what little hope we had left.

Sean’s grin infuriated me. It was the look of a man who had already surrendered to his demons. My fingers itched with the need to shake some sense into him.

“Andy, calm down,” he slurred. His breath reeked of whiskey and bad decisions.

My anger boiled over. “Calm down? You’ve thrown away everything! Our future, Sean! My sister’s future!” I swung my fist, connecting with his jaw. He staggered back, eyes wide with shock.

“Andy—” He barely got the word out before hitting back. The punch landed squarely on my cheek, a half-hearted apology spilling from his lips at the same time. “I’m sorry! I can’t help it!”

“You think sorry is going to fix this?” I shouted. “Two million dollars! You think Maxwell’s going to let this slide?”

Sean looked like a deer caught in headlights, his bravado crumbling. “I know… I’m so screwed up.”

“You’re damn right you are!” Another punch landed on his gut this time. “You know what this means for Mia? For us?”

The chaos around us intensified as patrons backed away, eyes wide with morbid curiosity. The guards reached us, their strong arms pulling us apart.

“Enough!” one of them barked, his grip like iron around my arm.

Sean’s face was a mess of blood and regret. “Andy, please?—”

“No more talking,” the guard snapped, dragging us from the thick crowd.

My mind raced as we were hauled away. Fear gnawed at me—a deep-rooted terror about what would happen next. James Maxwell wasn’t known for his mercy; he was known for making examples out of people who crossed him.

And Mia… God, I couldn’t bear the thought of her suffering because of this. She’d been through enough already—losing our parents in that car accident had left scars on both of us. This business was supposed to be our way out, our chance at a better life.

Now it felt like everything was slipping through my fingers like sand.

The guards shoved us into a small room and slammed the door shut behind us. The silence was deafening after the loud noise outside.

I stared at Sean, slumped in the corner, looking like a kicked puppy. His face was a mess—blood trickled from his nose, and one eye was starting to swell shut. The anger that had driven me here started to drain, replaced by a bone-deep weariness.

“Sean.” I sighed, feeling the weight of our predicament settle heavily on my shoulders. “How are we going to get out of this?”

He looked up at me. “I don’t know, Andy. I’m sorry. I really am.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it,” I said, rubbing my temples. “We need a plan.”

Sean hesitated before speaking again, his voice shaky. “Maybe we can borrow money… from some people. I know a guy connected to Carlos.”

I froze, disbelief turning into a sharp burst of laughter that had no humor in it. “Carlos? As in the cartel? Are you out of your mind?”

Sean’s expression grew desperate. “It’s the only option I can think of. We get the money from them and then… maybe I can play poker and win it back.”

The absurdity of his suggestion hit me like a punch to the gut. I lunged at him again, my anger reigniting. “You think gambling is going to solve this? Are you completely insane?”

Sean’s apologies turned into incoherent mumbles as I slammed him against the wall. Just as I was about to land a blow, strong arms yanked me back.

I found myself thrust against the opposite wall with such force that the breath left my lungs in a painful whoosh. A huge muscular body pressed against mine, pinning me in place with an iron grip on my throat.

I gasped for air, looking up into stormy gray eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. The man’s stern face was inches from mine—an intoxicating mix of danger and allure that made my heart race.

“Calm down now,” he said, his voice low.

The man pinning me against the wall was like a monolith carved out of granite—tall, broad, and terrifyingly commanding. His presence filled the room, making it feel smaller, more suffocating. This guy had to be someone big. Someone who could squash us like bugs without breaking a sweat.

His grip tightened on my throat, not enough to choke but enough to assert dominance. He seemed to be taking his time, his gaze lingering on me for far too long. It was as if he was assessing me, weighing my worth or deciding how much trouble I would be.

“Hey, you gonna buy me dinner first?” I tried to quip, though my voice came out strained.

He didn’t laugh. Instead, he cupped my face with a hard hand and turned it from side to side, inspecting me like I was some kind of prize animal at a county fair. My anger flared up again. Who the hell did this guy think he was?

I glared at him, my eyes burning with defiance. “Get your hands off me,” I spat, trying to push his hand away.

He didn’t budge. His grip was like steel. A chuckle rumbled from deep within his chest—a sound that only stoked the flames of my fury.

“So you’re the puppy causing trouble in my hotel,” he said, his voice dripping with disdain.

It hit me then—like a punch to the gut—who this man must be. Matt Caine. The Matt Caine. The notorious billionaire who ran Las Vegas with an iron fist and a heart as cold as ice.

Fear gripped me harder than his hand on my face. My bravado faltered for just a moment before I forced myself to meet his gaze again. “Yeah? Well, your hospitality leaves something to be desired.”

Matt’s chuckle deepened in amusement. The grip on my throat didn’t let up though, and as his eyes bored into mine, I felt something stir inside me—something that wasn’t just fear.

His gaze was dark, and I couldn’t ignore the way it sent a jolt of electricity through my veins.

A thumb traced the curve of my bottom lip, sending shivers down my spine.

It was a touch that felt both possessive and terrifyingly intimate.

I fought the urge to shudder at his touch, determined not to show any weakness.

He leaned in closer until his face was almost touching mine. His breath was warm against my skin, mingling with the scent of expensive cologne and power. “Andy Donovan?” he murmured, his voice a deep, rumbling purr that seemed to vibrate through me.

I met his gaze defiantly. “Yeah?”

A slow smile spread across his face.

“I have business with you,” he said, his voice low and dangerously calm. “I have it on good authority you owe my business partner James Maxwell two million dollars.”

Hearing those words made my stomach twist into knots. A cold sweat broke out across my brow as images of Matt’s ruthless reputation flashed through my mind. Panic surged through me as my imagination went wild with horrific scenarios.

Would he have me taken care of like some low-level thug who couldn’t pay the debts?

Would he break my kneecaps with a baseball bat?

Or maybe he’d tie me to a chair and use pliers to pull out my teeth one by one?

Maybe I’d end up sleeping with the fishes, cement shoes and all.

Or worse, would he go after Mia, using her as leverage to get the money back?

The thought of what could happen next sent a cold sweat trickling down my back.

Swallowing hard, I tried to keep my voice from wavering. “Technically speaking, it’s more like one million, the other half’s Sean’s.”

Matt burst out laughing—a deep, rich sound that echoed through the small room. It wasn’t the reaction I’d expected, and it left me even more unsettled.

“Technically speaking,” he said, still chuckling, “it’s two million, puppy, according to the contract signed under your name alone.”

My face drained of color as reality hit me like a freight train. The loan was indeed under my name. Sean had convinced me to sign the papers while he played the charming sidekick. Now I realized just how stupid I’d been.

Matt’s expression softened ever so slightly, but there was no mistaking the glint of amusement in his eyes as he studied my reaction. “Now, how about we negotiate?”