Page 79 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)
Thirty-Two
ANDY
A month out of the hospital and it felt like I’d been reborn into some kind of high-class fairy tale.
I stood in front of the mirror, tilting my head left, then right, inspecting my reflection.
The bruises that once marred my face had vanished, leaving behind the kind of smooth, unblemished skin that’d make a skincare commercial jealous.
The pain had become nothing more than a ghost of an ache, a reminder that seemed to fade with each passing day.
Three weeks had passed since Mia and James jetted back to LA, leaving me to navigate this gilded world on my own—well, not entirely on my own.
I’d moved into the penthouse fully, turning my back on my old apartment like some kind of twisted farewell tour to my past struggles.
Fin and Ethan had pitched in, packing boxes like pros and transforming the whole thing into an impromptu party.
Bruno and Tyrone—my hulking shadows—had flexed more than just their protective muscles that day, hoisting furniture like they were auditioning for “World’s Strongest Man.
” I swear, those guys could double as cranes in their off hours.
The sight of Bruno carefully carrying my prized comic book collection had been particularly entertaining.
“Those are collectibles,” I’d insisted when Ethan couldn’t stop laughing. “Besides, I think it builds character—and muscle.”
Being Matt’s other half came with its own set of sparkly handcuffs—namely, a black credit card he called an “allowance.” Who knew dating a billionaire meant hitting a financial jackpot every month?
That card burned hotter in my pocket than Vegas asphalt in July, but who was I to complain?
The number of zeros on that monthly limit still made my head spin; it was more money than I could have dreamed of making in a year.
I’d put it to good use, though. First order of business?
A work desktop so advanced I half expected it to launch a space shuttle.
Matt had designated a room in the penthouse as my office—a nice upgrade from coding in the living room like some kind of tech hermit.
The space now resembled a tech haven that would make any Silicon Valley prodigy green with envy.
Life had taken a sharp turn onto Easy Street lately—well, if you didn’t count the personal security detail doubling as lunch companions.
Sure, Bruno and Tyrone could ease up on their eagle-eyed watchfulness, but hey—I wasn’t one to argue against free muscle when moving house or warding off kidnappers.
They weren’t just bodyguards anymore; these days, they were my unofficial moving crew, personal trainers, and probably soon-to-be personal shoppers if I had my way.
That day found us lounging in one of the Maxwell Hotel’s most upscale restaurants, where the view could steal your breath—assuming you had any left after eyeing the menu prices.
The restaurant perched so high above the city that it felt like dining among the clouds, all gleaming surfaces and understated luxury.
Bruno and Tyrone occupied a nearby table, their stoic gazes scanning the room with the kind of vigilance that made you wonder if they were expecting a ninja attack.
Their presence was both comforting and slightly ridiculous, like having two mountains decide to play bodyguard.
Across from me, Fin and Ethan engaged in their usual brotherly banter, while I admired the cityscape with a sense of surrealism.
“So, Andy,” Ethan said, leaning back in his chair with a smirk playing on his lips, “how does it feel to be living the high life?”
I flashed the black credit card with a flourish. “Oh, you know, just your typical rags-to-riches story. Minus the riches part—those are all Matt’s.”
“You’re gonna spoil us rotten,” Fin commented.
“Not that we’re complaining,” Ethan added, his eyes glinting with mirth.
“Perks of having a sugar daddy,” I quipped, making Fin snort into his drink while Ethan shook his head, amusement written all over his face.
Fin’s expression turned pensive, his gaze lingering on the skyline like he was auditioning for a perfume commercial. “Maybe I should start shopping for a sugar daddy myself. The benefits package seems quite… stimulating.”
I arched an eyebrow, spotting my chance.
“Speaking of sweet deals, something’s been bugging me since before Carlos decided to add kidnapping to my resume—what happened after Tory’s party last month?
You left with Mark Sinclair, didn’t you?
” I couldn’t resist digging for details.
Between getting kidnapped and my extended luxury hospital stay, I’d nearly forgotten about this particular mystery.
Finley’s love life was more tangled than the plot of a soap opera, and I lived for the next juicy episode.
Fin’s eyebrow shot up so fast it could have won an Olympic medal. “How do you know that guy’s name?”
Ethan’s head whipped around so fast I worried for his neck. “Who’s Mark Sinclair? And how come I didn’t know you left the party with a guy?”
“Oh, honey,” Fin drawled, “you were too busy testing the durability of Tory’s guest bed?—”
“—face-first in designer pillows,” I finished with a smirk. “Quite the elegant passed-out pose, I must say.”
Turning back to me, Fin prodded, “So, if you know about Mark Sinclair, spill it. And don’t skimp on the juicy details.”
I chuckled. “Curious if he’s into you?”
With a shrug that couldn’t hide his smugness, Fin admitted, “He’s amazing in bed.”
Ethan and I choked on our drinks simultaneously, coughing and sputtering like a pair of old cars trying to start on a cold morning. “You slept with Mark Sinclair?” Ethan gasped between coughs.
Fin nodded nonchalantly. “The man is hot enough to melt steel beams, okay?” To me, he said, “Out with it, then. Spill all the juicy details about my mysterious midnight rendezvous.”
I shook my head in mirth—classic Finley to hook up with someone without even knowing their Forbes list status. “Mark’s not just a snack, he’s the whole damn meal ticket,” I said. “He runs with Matt and James—and yes, William and Tory too. Welcome to the billionaire boys’ club.”
The revelation hit them like a thunderbolt. Ethan’s jaw dropped while Fin looked as if he’d just discovered he was sitting on a gold mine.
Fin whistled softly. “I really need to reconnect with him, then. Who knows? Maybe I’ll get my own black card.
Poverty is so last season.” His face suddenly crumpled like a discarded lottery ticket.
“Though the universe clearly has it out for me because yours truly forgot to get his number. Who hooks up with a billionaire and forgets to get their contact info? This disaster right here.” He pointed to himself with a groan.
“I swear my life is a comedy show and I’m the punchline.
” Suddenly, Fin straightened up, his eyes wild with possibility.
“Oh my God, Ethan! You’re our ticket to the good life! ”
“What?” Ethan nearly choked on his water.
“Tory! You need to hook up with Tory—like yesterday!” Fin was practically vibrating in his seat.
“Look at Andy living the dream while we’re still counting quarters for laundry.
And I just blew my one chance at billionaire romance because I’m an idiot who can’t remember to save a phone number.
But you!” He pointed at Ethan dramatically.
“You have Tory practically drooling over you every time you’re in the same room! ”
Ethan frowned, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m not just going to hook up with any guy—even if he’s rolling in enough dough to open a bakery.”
“But he’s not just any guy,” Fin whined, throwing his hands up. “He’s Tory—the guy you’ve been crushing on harder than I crush my morning espresso. And he’s a billionaire! Do you know what this means? We could all be living the high life! No more instant ramen! No more generic brand cereal!”
Ethan sighed heavily, a wistful look crossing his face. “Tory’s not interested in me that way.”
Fin scoffed, leaning forward like he was about to share state secrets. “Are you blind? The man looks at you like you’re his favorite dessert, and honey, he’s got expensive taste. Don’t let my tragic romantic failure be in vain—one of us needs to score a billionaire, and you’re our last hope!”
Ethan exhaled another one of those tragic sighs, his expression a perfect portrait of dramatic despair. “I’ve told you a hundred times, Fin. Tory’s not into me like that.”
“But he’s still interested, isn’t he?” I prodded, always the instigator when it came to their love lives—or lack thereof.
Fin nodded so hard I thought his head might unscrew from his neck.
“He’s absolutely interested! And I want to see my brother happy—and living the good life while we’re at it.
” His eyes took on a manic gleam. “Tory’s just as generous as Matt, maybe even more!
Have you seen the women he dated? They’re like walking fashion shows, strutting around in clothes that probably cost more than our yearly rent.
And don’t even get me started on their cars—we’re talking vehicles that look like they could transform into spaceships! ”
“I’ve seen them bragging all over social media,” Fin continued, desperation creeping into his voice. “Designer bags, luxury vacations, jewelry that could blind you from space—Tory showers them with everything! You’re our ticket to the good life, Ethan!”
Ethan chuckled—a sound akin to watching a kitten tangle with a ball of yarn. “Are we really sinking that low now? Hunting for filthy rich guys to date?”
“Low?” Fin gasped, clutching his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “There’s nothing low about wanting to upgrade from frozen dinners to five-star restaurants! Think about it—no more dollar store snacks, no more checking the couch for bus fare. We could be living the high life!”