Page 23

Easton

Dawn painted the penthouse in liquid gold as sunlight spilled through the floor-to-ceiling windows.

I'd been awake for hours, mind cycling through contingency plans and countless details demanding attention on the most significant day of my career.

At noon, the Jade Petal would open its doors to the public.

Three years of rebuilding from humiliation, all culminating in these next twelve hours.

Beside me, Harlow stirred, her hair like a silk fan across the pillow as she blinked into consciousness. Even half-asleep, she radiated the quiet competence that had once made her my nemesis and now served as my anchor.

"You've been up for hours, haven't you?" she murmured, voice husky with sleep as she shifted closer.

"Just mental checklists." I brushed a strand of hair from her face, still marveling at how natural this felt—waking beside her, sharing thoughts without strategic calculation. "We still have time before heading downstairs."

Her fingers traced a path across my chest. "Nervous?"

"Terrified," I admitted with a candor I'd never have shown anyone else. "Everything I've rebuilt goes on display today. If anything goes wrong—"

"It won't." The certainty in her voice steadied me. "The systems are flawless, the staff impeccably trained, and you've anticipated every contingency." She propped herself up, fully awake now. "And if something unexpected happens, you'll handle it. That's what you do best."

I caught her hand, pressing my lips to her palm. "When exactly did you become my champion? I distinctly recall you shutting down my first operation without hesitation."

"Because it deserved shutting down." Her smile softened the words. "This one doesn't. You've built something exceptional, Easton. Something worthy of your vision."

Three months ago, those words from Harlow Clarke would have seemed impossible. Now, they formed the foundation beneath everything I'd built.

"I had help," I said quietly. "Your standards elevated the Jade Petal."

She leaned down to kiss me, brief but tender. "Come on. Your empire awaits, and we have a schedule to maintain."

We moved through our morning with practiced synchronicity—sharing the bathroom, Harlow reviewing security protocols on her tablet while I confirmed staffing assignments.

When she emerged from the closet in a tailored jade blazer over a cream silk blouse, I felt that now-familiar tightening in my chest.

"Professional enough for the commission, coordinated enough for opening day," she said, catching my appreciative gaze as she fastened pearl earrings. "Verdict?"

"I think you're remarkable." I moved behind her, hands resting lightly on her shoulders. "And I think we should tell everyone today."

Her eyes met mine in the reflection. "About us? The marriage?"

"All of it." I turned her to face me. "No more pretending we're just colleagues. No more hiding what matters most."

A smile bloomed across her face—the unreserved one she'd only recently begun showing me. "You're sure? Today is meant to spotlight the Jade Petal, not us."

"The Jade Petal exists because of us—your standards, my vision, our partnership." I grinned. "Besides, I'm tired of pretending I'm not married to the most brilliant woman in Nevada."

She laughed, the sound still new enough to warm me from within. "Flattery will get you everywhere, Hardwick." She straightened my tie with practiced fingers. "Alright. Today we go public. After the opening ceremony."

"After the opening ceremony," I agreed, sealing the promise with a kiss that threatened to derail our carefully planned schedule.

***

The command center hummed with activity as we arrived. Carmen Torres approached immediately, tablet in hand.

"Final security sweep complete, Mr. Hardwick. All systems optimal. First VIPs arrive in forty-five minutes. Media already setting up in designated areas."

"Staff check-in?" I asked, scanning monitoring screens showing every angle of the casino floor, hotel lobby, and entrance plaza.

"One hundred percent attendance. Everyone's in position."

"Excellent." I nodded to David Wilson, the new CFO who had stepped up admirably after Bryce's removal. "Financial systems?"

"Fully operational. Backup protocols in place." Wilson handed me a report. "And preliminary bookings have exceeded projections by twenty-two percent."

Harlow maintained slight distance, professional mask firmly in place for the staff, but I caught her subtle nod of approval as she reviewed security protocols.

We'd agreed to maintain appropriate boundaries in public until our announcement, though most of my senior team had likely suspected the nature of our relationship.

The investors arrived precisely on schedule—a group whose combined wealth could purchase a small nation. Leading them was Marcus Kellerman, whose initial skepticism had been my biggest hurdle during financing.

"Hardwick." He extended his hand, his assessment taking in not just me but the operation behind me. "Impressive command center. Very... transparent."

"Transparency is our operating philosophy," I replied, shaking his hand firmly. "Would you like to see the monitoring systems before the official opening?"

For the next thirty minutes, I guided them through our security and compliance protocols, emphasizing the innovative oversight model Harlow had developed. The systems spoke for themselves—elegant, comprehensive, unprecedented in the industry.

"The transparency approach has generated more positive press than traditional marketing," Wilson explained, displaying media analytics. "Consumer confidence metrics are tracking forty percent above industry standards."

Kellerman nodded thoughtfully. "And the Gaming Commission? After that business with Delacroix?"

"Fully supportive." I gestured subtly toward Harlow, who was speaking with Torres across the room.

"Investigator Clarke's collaborative oversight model has become a case study in effective regulation.

The commission has asked her to develop formal guidelines for potential industry-wide implementation. "

"Quite a turnaround," Kellerman noted. "Last I heard, she was the one who shut down your previous venture."

"She was," I acknowledged. "Sometimes our harshest critics become our most valuable allies."

After the investors departed to prepare for the opening ceremony, Harlow approached, professional composure perfectly maintained despite the private smile in her eyes.

"They seemed impressed," she observed.

"They should be." I lowered my voice, for her ears only. "You saved me in ways you don't even realize. Not just the casino—me."

Her composure slipped momentarily, genuine emotion flickering across her features before she regained control. "Save the speeches for the opening. We have ten minutes before you need to be at the main entrance."

But she squeezed my hand when no one was looking, and that brief contact carried more meaning than any public declaration could have conveyed.

***

The grand lobby transformed into a spectacle of light and celebration as noon approached.

Crystal chandeliers scattered rainbows across marble floors.

The ceiling mural of jade koi seemed to swim in the reflected light.

A jazz quartet played from the mezzanine, their music floating above expectant murmurs of VIPs, media representatives, and high-rollers clutching exclusive invitations.

From my position near the emerald-glass entrance doors, I surveyed the crowd.

Commissioner Montgomery conversed with the governor's chief of staff, her progressive stance on regulatory reform having earned her newfound political capital.

Enzo Ricci was notably absent, though several of his associates had appeared, undoubtedly gathering intelligence for their boss.

Liv Chen from the Las Vegas Tribune positioned herself strategically near the ceremonial ribbon, camera crew capturing every detail.

And then there was Harlow—standing slightly apart from the commission contingent, professional demeanor intact but her eyes finding mine across the room with a warmth only I could recognize.

At precisely noon, I approached the podium positioned before the main casino entrance. The crowd quieted, cameras focused, and the moment I'd spent three years working toward arrived.

"Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished guests, members of the press—welcome to the Jade Petal Hotel and Casino.

" My voice carried through the perfect acoustics of the lobby.

"Today marks not just the opening of a new destination on the Las Vegas Strip, but the beginning of a new era in hospitality and gaming excellence. "

The speech continued with acknowledgments of investors, designers, and staff who had made the Jade Petal possible.

I outlined our commitment to guest experience, security, and regulatory compliance without once glancing at my prepared remarks.

These weren't talking points; they were the principles that had guided every decision since rebuilding from the ruins of my previous failure.

"The Jade Petal represents more than luxury and entertainment," I concluded. "It embodies a vision of what's possible when innovation and integrity work in partnership. We are proud to set a new standard for the industry, and we invite you to experience it firsthand."

Applause rippled through the crowd as I cut the ceremonial ribbon.

The massive jade doors to the casino floor swung open, revealing the gaming paradise beyond—elegant tables staffed by impeccably trained dealers, state-of-the-art slots arranged in inviting configurations, the high-limit area visible through etched-glass partitions suggesting exclusivity without ostentation.