Page 87 of Chained By Fate (Dark Billionaires: Vegas #1)

Thirty-Five

ANDY

“ F ancy doesn’t begin to cover it. The Bellagio’s rooftop garden was like something out of a movie where the bad guys always wear designer suits and plot world domination over champagne. Given the number of billionaires per square foot tonight, that might not be far off.

Matt had somehow managed to snag us a table away from the thick of the crowd, which was a relief. My small-town sensibilities were still adjusting to these high-society gatherings where everyone’s net worth had more zeros than my phone number.

“Comfortable?” Matt’s hand found my knee under the table, warm and reassuring. His touch still sent shivers down my spine, even after all this time.

“As comfortable as anyone can be in a suit that could pay off a student’s college debt,” I quipped, earning a soft chuckle from Ryan across the table.

“Well, isn’t this a fortuitous arrangement?” The smooth voice shattered our peaceful bubble. Xavier Kingsley appeared at our table, his presence as imposing as the Vegas skyline behind him. He held a crystal glass of amber liquid, swirling it with practiced elegance.

“All the other tables seem to be full,” he said, already pulling out a chair. “You don’t mind, do you, Matthew?”

The way he said Matt’s name made my skin crawl. There was something too intimate about it, too familiar. Matt’s hand tightened on my knee under the table.

“Actually—” Ryan started, but Xavier was already seated, his calculated smile never wavering.

“I was just telling someone how remarkable the view is from this particular spot,” Xavier continued, his eyes fixed on Matt in a way that made my stomach knot. “Though some views are more captivating than others, wouldn’t you agree?”

I shifted uncomfortably in my chair, trying to put some distance between myself and Xavier’s overwhelming presence. My chair bumped into the chair behind me, and Mr. Richardson’s drink splashed across his expensive suit.

“Oh God, I’m so sorry—” I started to turn, mortified.

Porter, who was seated beside Mr. Richardson, immediately reached over with his silk handkerchief. “Here, let me help with that.” He dabbed at the spreading stain with practiced efficiency.

“These things happen,” Mr. Richardson said graciously, but I wanted to disappear into the night air anyway.

“Perhaps we should order another round?” Xavier suggested smoothly, his eyes never leaving Matt. “To settle everyone’s nerves?”

The dining room buzzed as servers glided between tables.

A fleet of waiters descended on our table with flawless timing, lifting silver domes in perfect unison.

First came the Osetra caviar nestled on mother-of-pearl spoons, followed by butter-poached lobster that melted on the tongue.

The Wagyu beef carpaccio arrived adorned with shaved black truffles and aged parmesan, each plate a masterpiece of presentation.

The main course revealed perfectly seared salmon on beds of saffron risotto, alongside herb-crusted rack of lamb with mint- infused jus.

Duck confit, pan-seared foie gras, and butter-soft veal medallions appeared in an endless parade of indulgence.

At the next table, a woman in diamonds gasped appreciatively at her gold-leafed soufflé.

Two tables over, a distinguished gentleman was expounding on the virtues of the ‘82 Bordeaux to his captive audience.

“The salmon here is excellent,” Xavier commented, cutting into his fish with precise movements. “Though I imagine you’re used to better fare these days, Matthew. Remember those take-out noodles we practically lived on at MIT?”

I perked up at this piece of history. Matt never talked much about his college days.

“I remember you trying to convince the dean that instant ramen qualified as a food group,” Matt replied dryly.

Xavier’s laugh was practiced perfection. “Only because someone kept stealing my lunch from the communal fridge.”

“That was Johnson from Chemical Engineering, and you know it.”

“And yet you never reported him.” Xavier’s eyes softened with something that made my stomach clench. “Always playing the silent protector, weren’t you?”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Speaking of protection, Xavier, I heard your new security system at Kingsley Tech is revolutionary.”

“Is it?” Xavier barely spared Ryan a glance before turning back to Matt. “Your latest casino renovation is stunning, Matthew. The architectural elements remind me of that design project we collaborated on in senior year.”

I couldn’t help myself. “You two worked together often?”

Xavier’s gaze flicked to me, dismissive and cold. “We were quite… close.” The way he lingered on ‘close’ made my fingers tighten around my fork.

“Hey, Xavier,” Ryan cut in, “didn’t you just acquire that gaming startup in San Francisco? The one with the?—”

“The interface integration, yes.” Xavier waved his hand dismissively, eyes locked on Matt. “Nothing compared to Matthew’s recent ventures. That takeover in Silicon Valley was masterfully executed. Your strategic mind has only sharpened since university.”

“Andy’s developing a revolutionary interface system,” Ryan pressed, and I could see him physically trying to redirect Xavier’s attention. “It’s going to change the whole industry.”

Xavier’s smile didn’t reach his eyes. “How… quaint. Matthew, do you remember Professor Harrison’s advanced economics class? The way you destroyed Thompson’s presentation on market volatility?—”

“I remember you sleeping through most of those lectures,” Matt interrupted, his hand finding mine under the table.

“Only because I was up late working on our joint projects.” Xavier’s voice dropped to something intimate that made my skin crawl. “We made quite the team back then.”

“Ancient history,” Matt’s tone was clipped.

“Nothing’s truly ancient between old friends, is it?” Xavier’s eyes gleamed. “Speaking of friends, this young man of yours…” He gestured vaguely in my direction without looking at me. “He must find these business discussions terribly dull.”

“Actually,” I spoke up, irritation finally overwhelming caution, “I find the dynamics fascinating. Especially the ones people think others can’t see.”

Xavier’s perfectly manicured eyebrow arched. “Oh? And what dynamics would those be?”

“Andy’s incredibly perceptive,” Ryan jumped in, practically vibrating with protective energy. “He was just telling me about some amazing behavioral patterns he’s noticed in?—”

“In competitive environments,” I finished, meeting Xavier’s cold stare. “How some people can’t let go of old… victories.”

Matt’s fingers tightened around mine as Xavier’s expression flickered.

“Victories?” Xavier swirled his wineglass. “Matthew always did attract ambitious people. Though some might be punching above their weight class.”

“And some might be living in the past,” I shot back.

Ryan kicked me under the table, but his aim was off and he hit Xavier instead. “Oh God, I’m so sorry! Hey, while I have your attention, what do you think about quantum computing’s impact on?—”

“Matthew,” Xavier cut across Ryan smoothly, “remember that night before finals? The one where we planned our futures?”

“I remember you planning my future.” Matt’s voice carried a warning edge.

“We had such grand visions,” Xavier continued as if Matt hadn’t spoken. “Though I don’t recall small-town app developers featuring in them.”

Ryan nearly knocked over his water glass in his haste to interject. “Speaking of apps, Xavier, I’d love your input on?—”

“You always did have a habit of trying to script other people’s lives, Xavier,” Matt cut in, his tone dangerous. “It didn’t work then either.”

I watched Xavier’s face as he stared at Matt, and suddenly everything clicked. The lingering looks, the deliberate dismissals, the intimate references to their past.

Ryan, still trying to run interference, launched into a detailed description of some tech conference, clearly thinking he was protecting me from Xavier’s attention. If he only knew.

“Your brother’s quite energetic tonight, Matthew,” Xavier observed, finally acknowledging Ryan with calculated amusement. “Though his timing could use work.”

“My timing is perfect,” Ryan protested, then added under his breath, “for keeping predators at bay.”

I had to bite back a laugh at the irony. Poor Ryan, playing bodyguard against the wrong threat entirely.

“I need another drink,” Ryan announced, grabbing my arm. “Andy, come help me pick something that isn’t just glorified sugar water. I can’t handle Mr. Perfect back there without at least some decent mocktails.”

I let him drag me toward the bar, catching Matt’s subtle nod. He could handle Xavier’s attention for five minutes without starting World War III. Probably.

“Okay, spill,” I said once we were safely by the fancy drink station. “What’s with the human barrier act tonight? You’re jumping into conversations like you’re training for the Olympic interruption team.”

Ryan’s perfect hair suffered a frustrated hand-rake. “You don’t know Xavier’s track record with Matt’s boyfriends.”

“Do tell. I’m assuming it’s not a heartwarming tale of matchmaking success?”

“He’s like a relationship wrecking ball in designer suits,” Ryan muttered, flagging down the bartender. “Every guy Matt’s ever dated? Xavier swoops in like some toxic fairy godmother and poof—relationship over.”

I watched Xavier lean into Matt, saying something that made Matt’s jaw tick. “You don’t say.”

“There was Rick from their senior year—lasted two weeks after Xavier started hanging around. Then Michael from that tech startup. Even that hotshot lawyer Matt dated briefly. Every. Single. Time. He gets in their heads, plays these mind games until they’re either running for the hills or falling into his bed. ”

The pieces clicked together like a jigsaw puzzle, but I had a feeling Ryan was looking at the wrong picture on the box. “And you think I’m next on his hit list?”