Eddie’s nod was brisk. “On it, boss.”
Moments later, Matt slid into the back of his sleek town car, the plush leather interior enveloping him as Rudd navigated through the neon-drenched streets. When the car rolled to a stop, Matt stepped out, his presence immediately commanding attention, his gaze sweeping over the opulent facade of the Bellagio Hotel.
His men flanked him as he strode through the lobby, a sleek and stylish blend of marble and gold. Suits nodded in recognition, eyes following his every move. He entered the grand hall where the elite mingled, their laughter and conversation a symphony of wealth and power.
A lavish party was in full swing, the air thick with the scents of expensive cologne and champagne. Matt’s arrival drew appreciative glances from both men and women, their eyes raking over his powerful physique and chiseled features.
A server materialized at his side, offering a tray of crystal flutes brimming with champagne. Matt accepted one with a polished smile, his eyes scanning the crowd.
“Matt!” The jovial voice of Tory Masuda cut through the din as the billionaire investor approached, his dark eyes twinkling with warmth. Tory’s lean frame was draped in an impeccably tailored tuxedo, his black hair styled to perfection. “You look like you own the place.”
“I might as well,” Matt replied smoothly, clinking glasses with Tory.
“How’s life treating you?” Tory asked, genuinely curious.
“Busy as ever,” Matt said. “Keeping tabs on some… interesting investments.”
Tory’s interest piqued, his brow arched with curiosity. “Oh? Do tell.”
Matt took a sip of his champagne, the bubbles tingling on his tongue. “It’s an investment that’s hard to control. Likes to go wild. Gotta keep a tight rein on it.”
A low chuckle rumbled from Tory’s throat. “Sounds intriguing, indeed.”
Just then, a tall figure approached, his pale-blond hair glinting white-gold under the chandeliers. William Bosworth cut an imposing figure in his immaculately tailored suit, his pale-blue eyes held an amused glint as he caught the tail end of their conversation. “Sounds like you’re talking about a wild dog.”
Matt’s eyes flickered with amusement. “More like a puppy I picked up off the street.”
William’s lips twisted into a sardonic smirk. “I didn’t realize you were into puppies and charity work, Matt.”
“This one is very cute,” Matt replied, his gaze distant for a moment as he thought of Andy’s fiery spirit and defiant eyes. “Though it barks a lot. As for the bite, I’ve yet to experience it.”
Tory and William exchanged glances, their shared history with Matt evident in their easy camaraderie. They—Matt Caine, James Maxwell, Mark Sinclair, Tory Masuda, and William Bosworth—had been friends since high school, ruling the hallways and the streets with an air of entitled confidence. Now, as the sons of billionaire empires, they commanded respect in the glittering world of Las Vegas.
Tory’s smile was knowing as he leaned in slightly. “Well, just make sure thispuppydoesn’t bite off more than it can chew.”
Matt’s smirk widened. “Trust me, Tory. I’ve got it handled.”
William’s gaze shifted to Tory. “So, where’s Mark these days?”
Tory took a sip of his champagne, the bubbles catching the light as he swirled the glass. “New York. He’s knee-deep in some major deals over there. You know Mark, always got his hands in something big.”
Turning to Matt, William asked, “And what about our esteemed James Maxwell? Still lording over his family’s empire in Los Angeles?”
A wry smirk tugged at the corner of Matt’s mouth. “James is keeping busy, as always. Too busy to deal with a particular… problem of his. So he passed it on to me.”
William’s eyes glinted with undisguised interest. “Is that so? Well, in that case, I might have to pay James a visit. It’s been too long since I’ve seen him.”
Matt and Tory exchanged a knowing look, aware of the thinly veiled tension between William and James. The two billionaires had a history of butting heads, their competitive natures often leading to heated exchanges whenever they crossed paths.
“Just don’t set anything on fire,” Tory quipped, earning a chuckle from Matt.
Before William could respond, an older man with silver hair and a dignified presence approached them. The host of the party, Jonathan Hawthorne, greeted them with a warm smile. “Gentlemen, enjoying yourselves?”
Matt shook Jonathan’s hand firmly. “Absolutely, Jonathan. You throw quite the party.”
“Only for the best,” Jonathan replied, his eyes twinkling with genuine pleasure.
As the afternoon progressed, Matt found himself surrounded by a constant flurry of attention, both men and women vying for his favor with flirtatious glances and subtle touches. Under normal circumstances, he would have gladly accepted their invitations, indulging in the fleeting pleasures of a casual fling.
