Page 139 of Double Down

I smirk and lean forward, resting my elbows on the table. “Here’s what’s going to happen, Senator. You’re going to collect your wife. You’re going to leave. And we’re never going to see either of you again.”

He blusters, but I keep going, quiet and sharp enough to cut glass. “In exchange, I will keep this video private. Along with the others. You remember them, right? The blackjack dealer you couldn’t keep your hands off. The two waitresses you groped in the elevator. And wasn’t there one with a prostitute of questionable age? My cloud storage is very organized; I’m sure I’ll find it. The news loves doing pieces on local celebrities.”

He jerks, pride and fear warring for dominance. “This is extortion,” he says, but it’s thin.

“It’s memory care,” I say, bored. “Timestamped, chain-of-custody CCTV. You know how juries love candids. Now—take the lifeline.”

Conrad doesn’t smile; he doesn’t need to. “You have a press conference at two,” he says mildly, like he knows the man’s schedule better than his chief of staff. “Walk out in a dignified fashion, and no one hears about a pool deck almost a decade ago.”

Atticus speaks for the first time, voice like a scalpel. “Also, check your inbox, Senator. You’ll find a draft statement you’ll want to use. Words like ‘appalled’ and ‘grateful for Titan-Wynn’s cooperation.’”

He’s already typed it; I don’t have to look to know.

Langford swallows the hook. “Fine.”

“Good boy,” I say, mocking his own smug tone back at him. “Now fetch your wife and get the fuck out of our hotel.”

He storms out, muttering curses under his breath. His staffers scuttle after him like they’re collecting breadcrumbs.

When the door shuts, Phoenix finally exhales. She turns to me, eyes wide. “You…you just ended it. Like that.”

“The Langford situation is handled,” I say, leaning back in my chair, finally pulling my hand from her thigh. “Assuming her husband can keep her on a leash.”

She shakes her head like she can’t believe it. “You don’t even like playing diplomat.”

I grin, wolfish. “Doesn’t mean I can’t. Cold detachment, sweetheart. Sometimes it’s the only way to win.”

Conrad clears his throat. “One problem down.”

Atticus’s jaw tightens. “Ninety-eight more to go.”

And he’s right. The Langfords were small fish. But at least the lobby won’t be burning down tonight, and we can stop dealing with her temper tantrums and focus on the real threat.

I glance at Phoenix. She’s still staring at me like I’m a stranger she wants to kiss and slap at the same time. I know the look; I’ve seen it in mirrors.

“Hey,” I murmur, low enough for just her. “You okay?”

Her lashes flicker. “Yes.” A beat. “And no.” Another beat. “Thank you.”

I nod once. I don’t say the thing I’m thinking—that I’ve wanted to ruin that man since the day he made a child flinch.

Con stands, palms flat on the table. “Atticus, push the Langford statement live to our PR team. Coordinate with legal. Maverick, walk the floor; make sure the staff knows to route all press inquiries to PR only. Storm?—”

“—I’ll walk the spa back-of-house again,” I finish. “If the Savannah crew planted cameras in our suite, they didn’t stop there. The ‘calming’ music’s covering a lot of sins.”

Atticus’s eyes cut to me. “I also need your copy of that pool deck footage for the vault.”

“You’ll get a copy,” I say. “The original stays with me.” I don’t blink, and he doesn’t push. We both know why. Leverage is survival, even among friends and allies.

Phoenix rises, smoothing her skirt. Her hand brushes my knuckles, a small, private thanks she won’t say out loud in front of the others. It’s enough.

Con’s phone buzzes; he glances at the screen, jaw ticking once. “The senator’s chief of staff wants a sit-down later this week. I’ll handle it.” He pockets the phone and looks to Phoenix. “You did good at the desk, earlier.”

She blinks, surprised at the praise. “Thank you.”

“Don’t get used to it,” he says, but the tone lands softer than his words.

The praise lands. My spine goes a little straighter before I can stop it. God, I hate that part of me still reaches for Conrad’s approval like a plant reaching for the sun through a cracked window. I’ve wanted this for years—one clean nod that says I did something right and he saw it.