Page 35 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
I nodded, watching as he strode out of the penthouse, leaving behind a trail of cologne and authority in his wake. The door clicked shut, and suddenly the atmosphere felt a smidge less charged, like someone had dialed down the voltage in the room.
“Guys, don’t let that feast go to waste,” I said, gesturing at the spread with a sweep of my hand. “Dig in before it gets cold.”
Fin and Ethan needed no further encouragement. As they ate, Fin glanced at me, concern etching deeper lines into his youthful face. “Dude, your eyes look like tomatoes after a bad breakup.”
I couldn’t help but snort—a choked, half-hearted sound that might’ve been funny in any other situation. “It’s… complicated.”
“Complicated?” Fin’s eyebrows shot up so high they practically merged with his hairline. “What’s up? Matt didn’t… I mean, he didn’t rough you up or anything?”
“No, Matt didn’t do anything,” I said quickly, feeling a strange urge to defend him. “It’s just… last night was insane.”
Ethan leaned in, his eyes filled with concern. “What happened?”
I hesitated for a heartbeat before diving headlong into the madness of last night’s events. Their eyes grew wider with every word, their forks frozen in midair as I recounted the chaos and carnage.
“…and then Matt and his men swooped in like some sort of mobster SWAT team,” I finished, the absurdity of it all making my voice waver.
Fin’s mouth hung open, an untouched piece of chicken forgotten on his fork. “That’s… That’s more than batshit crazy! We saw the news this morning about some drug deal turning into the O.K. Corral, but you were actually there?”
“Andy,” Ethan said earnestly, locking eyes with me in that intense way he had when something truly mattered to him. “If you need anything—anything at all—just say it.”
A lump formed in my throat as I looked at them both—my best friend and his brother—two guys who’d unexpectedly become my family.
“Just having you guys here is enough,” I managed to say through the tightness gripping my chest. It was true; their presence was like a balm to my battered soul.
Fin’s motormouth was the only thing keeping the ghosts at bay, his words an unending tide that swept through the penthouse, filling every crevice with their nonsensical chatter.
Ethan, bless his soul, buzzed around us like a bee with a mission, tidying up the aftermath of our impromptu banquet.
It was like watching a one-man cleanup crew after a rock band’s hotel party.
Meanwhile, the housekeeper and maid fluttered in and out, exchanging polite smiles and eye rolls at the sight of Ethan’s frantic efforts to erase any evidence of our culinary carnage. Their presence was a silent ballet of efficiency in the background—fluffing pillows here, polishing surfaces there.
Bruno made his grand entrance like the maestro of leftovers, giving Ethan a respectful nod as he wheeled away the food.
“Thanks,” Ethan said, his voice filled with genuine gratitude.
“No problem,” Bruno replied with a rare smile before disappearing with the cart.
The hours slipped by in a blur of dozing and idle conversation. I’d drift off for a while, lulled into fitful slumber by Fin’s ceaseless babble about everything and nothing—alien conspiracies one minute, his top ten favorite types of cheese the next.
At some point, exhaustion claimed us all, and we sprawled across the plush expanse of Matt’s sofa like a litter of overgrown kittens, sleep stealing away the sharp edges of reality.
I was half-adrift in dreamland when I felt it—a gentle touch threading through my hair. Cracking open an eye, I saw Matt looming over us, his face softened by the low light of evening.
“Did you have a nice sleep?” he murmured.
“Mmm,” I mumbled, stretching languidly. “Physically better. Emotionally? That’s gonna take more than a nap.”
Ethan stirred, eyes popping open wide as he realized where he was. A blush scorched across his cheeks like he’d been caught stealing cookies from the jar. “I’m so sorry—we didn’t mean to pass out here.”
Matt waved off his apology with a casual flick of his wrist. “No need to apologize. You guys looked like you needed it.”
Ethan glanced at Fin who was grumbling something unintelligible from under a throw pillow, clinging to sleep with the desperation of a starved koala to a eucalyptus tree. Ethan shook him gently. “Fin, wake up.”
Fin groaned in protest, burying his face deeper into the couch cushions. “Just five more minutes,” he mumbled.
Matt’s chuckle was like the low rumble of a luxury car engine—smooth and reassuring. “Gentlemen, since you’re already here and I haven’t dined yet, I insist you join me and Andy for dinner.”
Ethan’s protest was a half-hearted thing, barely a blip on the radar. “We can’t possibly intrude?—”
But Fin was already springing to life at the mere whisper of free food . “Yes, we’ll stay!” he declared, sitting up with a speed that defied the laws of sleep inertia, his eyes lighting up like Vegas at night.
The chef, accompanied by an assistant who moved with the quiet grace of a seasoned ninja, set to work transforming the dining table into a canvas of culinary delights.
Plates arrived bearing treasures from both land and sea: lobster tails that blushed a perfect sunset orange, nestled against verdant greens; succulent slices of prime rib that glistened with juices begging to be savored; and an array of side dishes that were symphonies of flavor in their own right.
Fin’s gaze flitted over the spread like a hummingbird drunk on nectar, while Ethan’s eyes kept straying to the bottle of wine—an expensive vintage that promised stories and memories in every sip.
The chef and his assistant flowed between us with seamless efficiency, ensuring our glasses were never empty and our plates always full.
As we ate, Matt leaned back in his chair, his presence commanding even in repose. “How do you find work at the hotel?” he asked Ethan and Fin.
Fin took a breath and launched into a passionate monologue about the trials and tribulations of cleaning.
“You know what grinds my gears? The vacuums,” he said with fervor.
“If you really want to help your staff out, get some upgrades. Those old beasts are like trying to wrestle an octopus on roller skates.”
Ethan’s experience couldn’t have been more different. “I love my job at the casino,” he said, his tone bright. “There’re always so many people and they’re very nice.” He grinned sheepishly. “They keep giving me their phone numbers, telling me if I’m thinking of changing jobs, they can help.”
At that, I couldn’t help but interject. “Man, Ethan, you’re so lucky having people just offer you jobs.” The innocence in his face was something to behold—he was as clueless as a newborn fawn wandering into a meadow filled with hidden predators.
Matt’s amusement bubbled up like champagne fizz. “Ethan,” he said with a tilt of his head, “ever consider taking up one of those offers?”
Ethan looked taken aback for a moment before shaking his head. “Nope! I’m happy where I am.”
Matt nodded thoughtfully. “I’d be sad to see you go. Might have to raise your wages to make sure we keep our best dealer.”
Fin seized the moment like it was Black Friday and he’d spotted the last discounted TV. “You should definitely double Ethan’s wage if you don’t want him snapped up by someone else.”
“Hmm. You’re right, Fin.” To Ethan, Matt said, “Consider it done.”
That pronouncement struck Ethan like a thunderbolt, and the effects were instantaneously etched on his face.
Shock and surprise morphed into unadulterated joy, lighting him up from the inside out.
I watched, almost entranced, as the transformation unfolded—Ethan’s pale-blue eyes sparkled like twin sapphires kissed by the sun, his smile as radiant as a dawn chorus.
The man was downright breathtaking when happiness took hold of him.
Ethan’s voice bubbled over with gratitude. “Really? That’s… that’s amazing! Thank you so much, Mr. Caine. I’m looking forward to it!”
Fin pounced on the moment like a cat on a laser pointer dot. “Hey, since you’re getting that fat raise,” he teased, nudging Ethan with his elbow, “you should take us out to celebrate! Dinner’s on you—right?”
Ethan laughed, the sound rich and free. “Yeah, why not? Let’s do it! Andy and Mr. Caine are definitely included.”
With dinner finished and goodbyes said, Fin and Ethan made their exit like two kids leaving Disney World—chattering nonstop about Ethan’s unexpected windfall.
Once they’d left, Matt turned to me with that inscrutable gaze of his. “You should shower,” he suggested.
I sniffed at my sleeve discreetly and winced. I smelled like a mix between stress-sweat and old Chinese takeout—not exactly the new cologne line Eau de Desperation .
“Yeah,” I agreed with a grimace. “I feel like a walking petri dish.”
The thought of hot water sluicing over me was suddenly the most enticing thing in the world.
I n Matt’s bathroom, I grappled with the toothbrush like it was a lifeline, scrubbing away the remnants of the day’s turmoil. My reflection mocked me from the mirror—a young man more ghost than flesh. I rinsed and spat, ready to shed the last vestiges of chaos clinging to my skin.
I stripped without ceremony, leaving my clothes in a dejected heap on the marble floor.
The shower hissed a welcoming chorus as I stepped under the spray, heat enveloping me like an embrace I didn’t know I’d been craving.
I reached for the body gel—Matt’s—and as it lathered over my skin, I couldn’t help but inhale deeply.
It smelled like power and spice, a scent that conjured images of stormy eyes and half smiles.