One
ANDY
Staring at my reflection in the dingy bathroom mirror, I felt like throwing up. The guy looking back at me, with his dark hair in disarray and haunted eyes, was a mess. My stomach churned, an endless loop of dread playing out inside me. My mouth felt dry as sandpaper, and no amount of cold water splashed on my face seemed to wash away the sense of impending doom.
A week ago, I was riding high on dreams. Just seven days back, my head buzzed with visions of success and the promise of a new life. But now? Now I was staring at the shattered pieces of those dreams.
“Dammit, Sean,” I muttered under my breath, gripping the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white.
Sean, my so-called friend and business partner, had managed to lose two million dollars in a gambling spree. The very funds we borrowed from billionaire James Maxwell to kickstart our venture. I felt sickened by the betrayal and stupidity of it all. Two million dollars gone in the blink of an eye.
The guy in the mirror didn’t have any answers. His face was pale, eyes wide with fear. I ran a hand through my hair andsplashed more cold water on my face, but it did nothing to quell the nausea twisting my gut.
I thought about James Maxwell and his cold, calculating eyes. The man didn’t make deals; he made investments. And he expected returns. A shiver ran down my spine as I imagined his reaction when he found out about Sean’s colossal screwup.
“We were so close,” I whispered to myself, recalling the thrill of our pitch meeting with Maxwell. The excitement, the adrenaline… It all felt like a cruel joke now.
I turned away from the mirror and paced around the cramped apartment. Every step echoed with my rising panic. The walls seemed to close in on me as if mocking our downfall.
I glanced at my phone lying on the kitchen table. It held messages from Sean that I couldn’t bear to read right now—apologies and excuses that meant nothing when two million dollars had vanished into thin air.
With each passing second, reality sunk its claws deeper into me. The dream was over before it even began, and we were left with nothing but ashes.
“How could you be so stupid?” I barked at no one in particular, anger mingling with fear in a volatile cocktail inside me.
The clock ticked loudly on the wall—a reminder that time was running out for us to fix this colossal mess before James Maxwell came knocking. And when he did, there would be hell to pay.
My phone dinged, yanking me from my spiraling thoughts. I grabbed it off the table, my hands trembling slightly. A message from Finley lit up the screen.Hey, I’m at work and I see Sean. He’s putting in big at the poker table.
My heart nearly stopped. The idiot was about to blow the last of our savings. Panic surged through me like a tidal wave, sweeping away any semblance of calm.
Without a second thought, I bolted out of the apartment, barely remembering to grab my keys. The drive to The Maxwell’s was a blur of honking horns and screeching tires. My mind raced faster than the car, images of Sean throwing away our last chance flashing before my eyes.
By the time I skidded into the parking lot of the hotel resort where Finley worked as a cleaner, my knuckles were white from gripping the steering wheel so hard. I stumbled out of the car and sprinted toward the entrance, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
The moment I stepped inside, I was hit by a wall of glitz and glamour. Crystal chandeliers sparkled overhead. High rollers in designer suits laughed and sipped champagne at velvet-covered tables, their fortunes multiplying with each turn of a card.
It all felt like a cruel joke—a stark contrast to the dread gnawing at my insides. While they reveled in their excess, my world was teetering on the brink of collapse.
I scanned the crowded room until I spotted Sean sitting at a poker table with a reckless grin plastered on his face. Chips piled high in front of him, he looked like he didn’t have a care in the world.
“Sean!” My voice cracked as I yelled his name.
He turned just in time to see me charging toward him like a madman. Before he could react, I grabbed him by the collar and yanked him away from the table.
“What the hell are you doing?” he slurred, clearly intoxicated.
Chaos erupted around us as chips scattered across the floor and players shouted in protest.
“You idiot!” I shouted. “You’re blowing everything!”
Sean struggled against me, but fear and adrenaline gave me strength. We crashed into another table, knocking over drinks and sending more chips flying.
I didn’t care about anything except getting Sean out of there before he destroyed what little hope we had left.
Sean’s grin infuriated me. It was the look of a man who had already surrendered to his demons. My fingers itched with the need to shake some sense into him.
“Andy, calm down,” he slurred. His breath reeked of whiskey and bad decisions.
