Both Orion and Ares turned their heads sharply, twin glares landing on their brother.
“What?” Leo said, hands up in mock surrender. “I’m just appreciating?—”
“We can all see her,” Ares said flatly.
“You look lovely,” said Orion. He gazed at me intently, at the black chiffon dress that draped provocatively between my breasts with a flared skirt that hung in clingy folds.
Orion took my hand and guided me into the limo, an extra-large model with spacious seating toward the back and front of the vehicle. I settled in next to the far window, and the men entered, Orion sitting too near me. Leo picked up a chilled bottle of champagne from a compartment under his seat and poured flutes for each of us.
“To a successful ‘My Heroes’ promotion!” he said with a twinkle in his eye.
“Restaurant first,” I said, checking my phone, where I’d already posted the initial teaser. “High-end, nighttime crowd, good for showing you interact with staff and guests naturally.”
“Naturally,” Ares repeated flatly.
“You know, like humans.” Leo elbowed him. “Smile. Wave. Pretend you don’t mentally calculate threat assessments every three seconds.”
“I calculate them every two seconds. That’s why we’re still alive.”
I laughed despite myself. “That. Right there. That’s the content people want.”
We pulled up to Carbone, where I’d called ahead to warn them we were coming. The maître d’ looked thrilled and terrified in equal measure.
“Gentlemen,” I said as we walked in. “Just be yourselves. I’ll handle the content.”
What followed was controlled chaos in the best possible way.
Orion spoke with the sommelier about wine pairings, his knowledge and genuine interest clear. I filmed it, posted it with the caption:CEO who actually knows his Burgundy from his Bordeaux. #OlympusFamily #KnowYourBillionaires.
Leo chatted with a young couple celebrating their anniversary, recommending his favorite spots on the Strip and insisting their next meal be on the Olympus Royale. The couple looked starstruck. I got it all on video.
Ares—surprisingly—helped an elderly woman with her chair and spent five minutes discussing his favorite Italian dishes with her. When she asked for a photo, his smile looked almost genuine.
I posted everything in real time and watched engagement numbers climb.
“We’re trending locally,” I said as we left the restaurant. “Next location?”
“Bellagio,” Orion decided. “Show we’re not afraid of the competition.”
The Bellagio casino floor was precisely the spectacle I’d hoped for. Other patrons noticed immediately—the Kolykos triplets walking through like they owned the place, which, in spirit they kind of did.
People started taking photos. Then selfies. Then approached for autographs.
“This is insane,” Leo said, signing a napkin for a woman who called him her “casino daddy.”
“This is marketing,” I corrected, filming everything.
Ares positioned himself so he could watch the crowd while still being in frame. Orion charmed an investment banker who wanted to talk strategy. Leo made a kid’s day by giving him a chip and telling him to “save it for when you’re twenty-one.”
My phone was exploding with notifications. Shares. Comments. Individuals were tagging their friends in these posts. Local influencers were reposting our content.
“Next,” I said, riding the high. “We need nightclub energy.”
XS Nightclub at the Wynn was perfect—all lights and bass and beautiful people. The manager spotted us immediately and ushered us to VIP before I could explain we wanted to be visible.
“Actually,” I said, “we’d like to be on the floor. With everyone else.”
The manager looked confused, but the brothers understood.
