Page 2 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
Two
MATT
M att leaned back in his plush leather chair, his broad shoulders filling out the exquisite fabric as he surveyed the organized chaos on his desk.
Financial reports, proposals, and contracts vied for his attention, each document representing another strand in the intricate web of his business empire.
At six foot three, Matt’s presence dominated any space he entered. Despite his wealth, he retained the rugged handsomeness of a self-made man who knew how to command a room with just a look.
The phone on his desk buzzed. Matt glanced at the caller ID and smirked before picking up.
“James,” he greeted.
“Matt, my man!” James Maxwell’s voice crackled through the line, equal parts mirth and exasperation. “How’s life treating the king of Sin City?”
Matt allowed a grin to tug at the corners of his mouth. “You know me, James. Always keeping the empire in line.”
James laughed. “That’s why you’re the best. Listen, I need a favor.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. “Another one of your charity cases?”
“Not exactly,” James said, chuckling. “A kid named Andy Donovan borrowed two million from me to start some venture. Problem is, he let his partner gamble it all away right under our roof.”
Matt leaned forward, interest piqued. “In our casino? That’s rich.”
“Yeah, well, now the kid’s in over his head,” James continued. “I need you to keep an eye on him until this debt gets sorted out.”
Matt’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “Babysitting? Really?”
James laughed. “Think of it as… ensuring our investment.”
“Alright,” Matt agreed, already considering the implications. “I’ll take care of it.”
They exchanged goodbyes and hung up. Matt’s mind was already spinning with plans as he looked out over the city that never slept.
He leaned back in his chair and pressed the intercom button on his desk. “Eddie, get in here.”
The door swung open and a burly, broad-shouldered man with a shaved head strode in. Eddie Graziano had been Matt’s personal assistant and head of security for years, a trusted ally whose loyalty was unquestionable.
“You called, boss?” Eddie’s gruff voice was tinged with a hint of a New Jersey accent.
“I need you to look into someone for me,” Matt said. “Andy Donovan. Find out everything you can.”
“You got it,” Eddie said. “Anything else?”
“That’s all for now. I’ve got a meeting with the Tangiers people.” Matt stood, smoothing the crisp lines of his suit as he moved toward the door.
As he walked through the opulent halls of the hotel, staff members nodded respectfully, each one acutely aware of who held the reins of their livelihoods.
Matt slid into the back seat of his black Mercedes-Benz.
Rudd, ever the efficient driver, navigated the busy Las Vegas streets with practiced ease.
Matt gazed idly out the tinted windows at the flashing neon signs and crowded sidewalks, mentally reviewing his agenda.
A sudden blare of the horn made his head snap up.
Rudd had slammed on the brakes, the car lurching to an abrupt stop just short of a young man crossing against the light.
Rudd leaped out. “Hey, watch where you’re going!”
But the young man didn’t back down. “Me?” he shot back. “You’re the one who nearly flattened me, jackass!”
Matt found himself leaning forward, intrigued despite himself. The kid couldn’t have been more than twenty, with ebony hair and a slim, athletic build that was undeniably gorgeous. Those cocky eyes sparked with defiance as he tore into Rudd with a blistering torrent of insults and accusations.
Matt felt an unexpected grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. The kid had spunk, he’d give him that. And there was something about that fiery spirit, that unapologetic boldness, that Matt found utterly captivating.
Rudd finally gave up and trudged back to the car, face flushed with embarrassment. “I’m so sorry about that, sir,” he stammered. “I got his information just in case we need it for insurance.”
Matt leaned back in his seat, still smiling. “It’s fine. What’s his name?”
“Andy Donovan,” the driver replied, handing over a small piece of paper with scribbled details.
Matt’s interest sharpened instantly. “Andy Donovan?”
“Yes, sir,” the driver confirmed.
Matt’s grin widened as the pieces fell into place. Well, well. This just got a whole lot more interesting.
Matt navigated the business meeting with the precision of a seasoned player at the poker table. The Tangiers representatives were all sharp suits and polished smiles, their words carefully chosen to mask underlying motives. He matched their finesse, countering every proposal with calculated ease.
Hours slipped by in a blur of negotiations and strategy. Finally, when the last document was signed and hands were shaken, Matt felt a rare sense of satisfaction. The deal was done, and another layer had been added to his ever-expanding empire.
As he left the conference room and made his way back to The Maxwell’s, his thoughts drifted back to Andy Donovan.
The name alone conjured up images of tousled ebony hair, cocky eyes that sparked with defiance, and a lithe, athletic body that radiated a captivating mix of innocence and bravado.
The kid’s fearless attitude intrigued him more than he cared to admit.
Andy was an enigma wrapped in layers of hardship and grit.
Matt felt an unfamiliar twinge low in his abdomen. The kid had fire, that was for sure. And something about that raw, unrestrained spirit awakened a long-dormant hunger within him.
The car glided to a smooth stop outside the soaring glass facade of the Maxwell Hotel Resort. Matt stepped out, the desert air caressing his chiseled features as he strode through the grand entrance and made his way to his office suite.
Eddie was already waiting, rising from his seat as Matt entered. “Here’s everything on Andy Donovan,” he said, handing over the file.
Matt took it with a curt nod of acknowledgment.
Sinking into the buttery leather chair behind his desk, Matt flipped open the file and began perusing the contents with keen interest. He inspected the profile picture first. The moment his eyes landed on Andy’s pretty boy features, he felt an unexpected jolt of captivation.
There was something undeniably magnetic about the young man’s appearance, something that stirred an unanticipated curiosity within Matt.
The first page held basic details: Name: Andy Donovan, Age: 20, Height: 5’8”, Hometown: Mystic Spring.
Matt’s eyes skimmed down to the next section.
Family: Mia Donovan, sister, age 22. The file continued with details about Andy’s business partner.
Sean McAllister, friends for around five years.
He turned the page to find a list of jobs Andy had taken on since coming to Vegas: waiter at various restaurants, bellhop at a midrange hotel, cashier at a convenience store, even a stint as a janitor at a local gym.
“Kid’s been hustling,” Matt murmured to himself.
Eddie nodded. “Yeah, he’s a hard worker. No known romantic relationships either.”
Matt raised an eyebrow. That bit of information piqued his interest even more. No attachments meant fewer complications.
Matt leaned back, tapping his fingers on the desk thoughtfully. Andy was more than just some reckless kid in debt; he was someone who had fought tooth and nail for every scrap of opportunity that came his way.
“Interesting,” Matt muttered as he closed the file.
Eddie stood by silently, waiting for any further instructions. Matt’s mind raced with possibilities but for now, he simply nodded to Eddie.
“Thanks,” he said.
Eddie took that as his cue to leave. Alone again, Matt couldn’t help but feel that this situation with Andy Donovan might turn out to be far more engaging than he initially thought.
M att poured himself a glass of wine, the rich burgundy liquid swirling in the crystal glass.
The suite around him was a symphony of opulence—marble floors, velvet drapes, and art pieces that could make museums envious.
Yet the lavish surroundings did little to quell the restlessness stirring inside him.
The bathroom door opened, and out stepped Lucas—young, dark-haired, and slender. The striking resemblance to Andy Donovan made Matt’s chest tighten. Lucas walked with a confidence that seemed almost practiced, his robe hanging loosely from his shoulders.
“Thirsty?” Lucas asked with a knowing smirk as he reached for the glass Matt had just poured. Without waiting for a response, he took a long sip, his eyes never leaving Matt’s.
Matt studied him intently. Lucas was handsome in a conventional sense—sharp cheekbones, full lips, and eyes that promised mischief. His skin glowed with a warmth that invited touch.
Just hours ago after dinner, Matt had spotted Lucas downstairs in the hotel bar, nursing a drink alone. Without a second thought, and with the image of Andy still in his mind, Matt made his move, luring the young man upstairs for a night of indulgence.
Lucas set the glass down and let the robe slip off his shoulders, revealing his naked form. He was all lean muscle and smooth lines—a sculptor’s dream brought to life. Matt couldn’t help but appreciate the view.
Lucas closed the distance between them, his fingers tracing the line of Matt’s jaw. He leaned in, his lips brushing against Matt’s in a teasing kiss. Matt felt a spark of desire, but it was tinged with a bitter edge of disappointment, and he wasn’t sure why.
Lucas deepened the kiss, his tongue probing and insistent. Matt let himself be drawn in, his hands sliding over the young man’s back as he pulled him closer. The kiss was hot and hungry, a whirlwind of need and want. Their tongues danced together in a rhythm that felt both familiar and foreign.