“Ms. George?” A woman’s voice cut through the confrontation. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
I turned to see a polished woman in her forties approaching—expensive suit, tablet in hand, the unmistakable air of someone who managed chaos for a living.
“Evelyn?” I guessed.
“Yes. Leo said you wanted to discuss the VIP lounge setup?” She glanced at Marcus with professional coolness. “Am I interrupting?”
“Not at all,” I said. “Mr. Talbor was just leaving.”
Marcus looked between us, clearly calculating whether to push further. Then he smiled that poisonous smile again. “I’ll be in touch,” he said. “Enjoy your party planning, Ms. George. I’m sure it’ll be memorable.”
He walked away, leaving the manila envelope on the floor between us.
Evelyn waited until he disappeared around the corner before speaking. “Should I be concerned about whatever is in that envelope?”
I bent down and picked it up, my hands steadier than I expected. “Right now, I need to focus on the Selene Room.”
Evelyn studied me for a moment, then nodded. “The Selene Room is this way. I’ve already pulled furniture options and lighting schemes based on the Neon Elysium theme.”
“You’re fast.”
“I’ve worked with the Kolykos brothers for five years. Fast is the only speed they understand.” She led me down the hallway, her heels clicking efficiently. “Leo mentioned you need the space ready by tomorrow evening for VIP guests and press. Intimate but impressive. Private but not isolated.”
“Exactly.” I followed her, shoving Marcus’s envelope into my bag. I’d handle it later. Right now, I had a lounge to design.
“The Selene Room is smaller than the main ballroom—capacity around fifty people comfortably,” Evelyn explained as we walked. “Floor-to-ceiling windows on the west wall with views of the Strip. Original hardwood floors. Acoustically treated so conversations stay private even when the room is full.”
She opened a set of double doors, and I stepped into a space that was somehow both intimate and grand. High ceilings, elegant architectural details, and those promised windows that would showcase the Vegas skyline at night.
“It’s perfect,” I said.
“Good. Because here’s what I’m thinking.” Evelyn pulled up images on her tablet. “Low seating clusters—velvet sofas in deep indigo and purple, accent pillows in rose gold. High cocktail tables around the perimeter for minglers. A small bar setup in the northeast corner. Soft lighting—no overhead fixtures, just strategic up-lighting, and candles.”
“And the windows?”
“Sheer drapes we can close for privacy or open for the view. I’d recommend keeping them open until after the main announcement, then closing them so this becomes a true retreat space.”
I looked at the room again, imagining it filled with press and VIPs, the brothers and me circulating, and the careful dance of managing media while maintaining intimacy.
“How quickly can you have it ready?”
“Furniture arrives at six a.m. tomorrow. My team can have it staged by noon. Final touches by three p.m. You’ll have time for a walk-through before the main event.”
“You’re a miracle worker.”
“I’m a professional event planner in Las Vegas,” Evelyn corrected. “Miracles are in the job description.” She made a few notes on her tablet. “The Selene Room is handled. Trust me.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. Thank me after tomorrow night when you’re standing in that main ballroom with three men who love you, and the whole world is watching.” She left before I could respond, efficiency in motion.
I stood alone in the Selene Room—the VIP retreat, the private space where we’d escape between carefully orchestrated public moments—and pulled out Marcus’s envelope.
I didn’t open it. Not yet.
First, I needed to call Ares.
He answered immediately. “What’s wrong? You okay?”
