Page 78 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
Stepping into the en suite, Matt let the water cascade over him like a warm summer rain, washing away the remnants of their passion.
The steam curled around him like a comforting shroud, and he lingered there, allowing the heat to seep into his muscles.
Twenty minutes later, wrapped in a plush bathrobe that hugged his frame, he emerged to find Andy lost to the world again, breaths even and deep in sleep.
The sight of him sprawled across the bed was a stark contrast to the impish vixen who had left him breathless just moments ago.
Matt couldn’t help but smile as he bent down to kiss Andy’s forehead, his fingers tracing the line of Andy’s cheek with a featherlight touch. His heart twinged at the memory of the night’s earlier disquiet—Andy’s whimpers and groans of terror still echoing in his ears.
It wasn’t the first time Matt had witnessed these nocturnal demons.
The ghosts of Andy’s past were persistent visitors.
Then there were the living specters—Herbert and Miley—whose cruelty had carved deep scars in both Andy and Mia’s psyches.
And now Carlos’ shadow had joined this macabre dance of memories, though at least that particular demon would torment no more.
But Herbert and Miley still walked free, and Matt wasn’t sure how long these nightmares would continue to plague Andy.
One thing was crystal clear, though: he’d move heaven and earth to erase the terror that lurked behind Andy’s bright smiles, to create a sanctuary so complete that not even the darkest memories could breach it.
Andy might face each day with infectious laughter and unwavering spirit, but Matt knew the cost of maintaining that brave facade—and he’d do anything to ensure those radiant smiles never had to mask pain again.
In the walk-in closet, Matt dressed himself with meticulous care.
The tailored navy suit clung to him like a second skin, outlining every sculpted muscle in his broad frame.
The crisp white shirt provided the perfect canvas for his carefully chosen tie, while his hair was styled to casual perfection.
His reflection showed a man who could command any room—the sleek lines of his suit enhancing his powerful build, those stormy steel-gray eyes hinting at both danger and desire.
The whole effect was devastating, a perfect blend of power and polish that would make even Greek gods question their workout routines.
With one last look at Andy’s peaceful face, Matt pressed another soft kiss against his temple. He paused for a heartbeat more—this beautiful, fierce, wounded young man was his most precious treasure—and then quietly left the penthouse.
The elevator descended like a steel cocoon through the heart of the hotel, morning light casting a golden hue over Matt’s impeccable attire. His office, a sanctuary of power, welcomed him with its familiar blend of glass and polished mahogany.
A knock at the door pulled him from his initial review of the day’s reports. “Enter,” he called, his voice resonating with the easy authority of a man accustomed to command.
The butler glided in, pushing a cart that held a feast fit for royalty.
Eggs Benedict perched atop golden brioche like edible jewels, their hollandaise sauce gleaming in the morning light.
Crisp bacon strips whispered secrets of smoky perfection, while a fruit platter arranged with Renaissance precision added splashes of vibrant color.
Fresh croissants promised buttery bliss, and an artisanal cheese selection completed the spread.
At the center of this culinary masterpiece stood a carafe of coffee—dark and rich as sin itself.
“Your coffee, sir,” the butler said, offering up a cup with the reverence usually reserved for holy relics.
Matt accepted it with a grateful nod, savoring the first sip as warmth bloomed across his tongue.
The butler retreated like a ghost at dawn, leaving Matt to balance his breakfast with the morning’s tasks.
He’d barely started on the eggs when another knock heralded Eddie’s arrival. The man filled the doorway like a walking fortress, loyalty personified in flesh and bone.
“Morning, boss,” Eddie greeted, placing several folders on Matt’s desk. “Got something you’ll want to see.”
Matt’s brows drew together as he flipped open the top folder. “And?”
“We found Miley,” Eddie reported, his voice holding notes of triumph undercut by concern. “Still holed up in Mystic Spring. But Herbert…” He paused meaningfully. “He’s gone off radar completely.”
Instinct reared its head within Matt, sensing trouble like a shark scenting blood. “Keep searching,” he commanded, his coffee forgotten. “He can’t have vanished into thin air.”
Eddie nodded and departed as quickly as he’d arrived.
Alone now, Matt wrestled with the unease gnawing at his gut. Herbert’s disappearance was as suspicious as a silent casino at midnight. Why vanish now? Could he be hunting Mia and Andy?
The phone felt cool against his ear as he dialed James—a call as welcome as a tax audit at dawn. James answered with the gravelly voice of a man who’d rather be wrestling bears than taking early morning calls.
“This better be good, Matt,” he growled, Mia’s soft breathing audible in the background like a gentle counterpoint to his irritation.
“Herbert’s gone underground,” Matt cut straight to business. “Miley’s still in Mystic Spring, but he’s disappeared completely.”
There was a pause as James processed this, sleep falling away like a discarded coat. “I’ll get my men on it. We’ll do our part.”
“Be careful with this one,” Matt warned, fingers drumming an impatient tattoo on mahogany wood. “Something feels off about the whole thing.”
“Understood,” James replied after a beat. “I won’t tell Mia about it. She doesn’t need this worry.”
“I won’t tell Andy either,” Matt agreed, the weight of protection settling familiar on his shoulders. They were guardians first; lovers would have to wait their turn.
They hung up—the click echoing like a closing chapter awaiting its next twist of fate.
Matt turned back to his now-cold breakfast, his mind racing with possibilities.
Herbert’s sudden disappearance was a storm cloud on the horizon, threatening to disrupt the fragile peace he’d worked so hard to build.
But he’d be damned if he’d let that snake slither anywhere near Andy or Mia again.