“We have the marketing director who knows exactly how to sell it,” I added, looking at her with admiration. “You’ve been planning this already, haven’t you?”
“Maybe a little,” she admitted. “I couldn’t sleep last night, so I started thinking. What would turn this narrative around? What would make people see us as people, not as a scandal?”
“A grand romantic gesture,” Orion said. “Public declaration of commitment. The kind of thing Vegas loves.”
“The kind of thing that goes viral for the right reasons instead of the wrong ones,” Tashi said. “We control the narrative by giving them a better story to tell.”
“Henri will hate it,” Ares said with satisfaction. “He’s positioned himself as the one cleaning up our mess. If we throw a party celebrating that mess, we undermine everything he’s said about us being irresponsible and reckless.”
“More than that,” I said, my marketing mind spinning. “If we do this right, if we make it about love and commitment and Las Vegas romance, the Gaming Commission looks like the villain for trying to punish us. ‘Look at these cruel bureaucrats trying to destroy this beautiful love story.’”
“It’s risky,” Orion said. “If it backfires, if people see it as us flaunting our wealth and privilege?—”
“Then we’re no worse off than we are now,” Tashi interrupted. “Right now, you’re the powerful men who exploited an employee. At least this way, we get to tell our side. We get to show that this is real. That we’re not ashamed. That we’re fighting for something worth fighting for.”
“Each other,” Ares said quietly.
“Each other,” Tashi agreed. “And if the Gaming Commission wants to strip your license after we’ve just given Las Vegas the biggest PR boost it’s had since the Rat Pack, let them try to justify it.”
Orion was quiet for a long moment, that calculating look on his face that meant he was running through every possible scenario and outcome.
“We’d need to move fast,” he said finally. “Tomorrow night. The night before the hearing. Maximum impact.”
“We have a ballroom that’s booked for a wedding,” Ares said, already pulling out his phone. “But I think we can convince them to reschedule. For the right price.”
“We’ll need security,” Orion continued. “Press management. A guest list that includes the right mix of celebrities and influencers to make it trend nationally, not just locally.”
“And a narrative,” I added. “A story arc for the evening. Something that gives the media sound bites they can’t resist.”
Tashi looked at each of us, and I could see the question in her face. The same question I knew we were all thinking about.
“You’re sure about this?” Orion asked her. “Going public in this way and making our relationship so visible means there will be no turning back afterward. You’ll be in the spotlight forever. People will have opinions about your life, your choices, and your relationship with us. It won’t be easy.”
“Nothing about this journey has been easy,” Tashi said. “But hiding hasn’t worked. Trying to be professional and appropriatehasn’t worked. Maybe it’s time to stop apologizing and start celebrating.”
She stood up, facing the three of us with her chin raised and her shoulders back. Not the uncertain woman who’d arrived at the Olympus Royale a few weeks ago, but someone stronger. Someone who’d been tested and hadn’t broken.
“I’m not ashamed of loving you,” she said. “Any of you. All of you. And if the world wants to judge me for that, let them judge. But they’re going to see that our love is real. That we chose each other. What we have is worth fighting for.”
I looked at my brothers. I saw the same mixture of pride, fear, and determination reflected in my brothers’ faces that I felt in my own.
“Then we throw a party,” I said. “The biggest, most romantic, most talked-about party Las Vegas has ever seen.”
“We make them love us,” Ares added.
“Before the Gaming Commission tries to destroy us,” Orion finished.
Tashi clapped her hands. “Let’s get started.”
Chapter 23
Tashi
After our decision to “go large”with the party, my mind had spun through logistics, timelines, messaging strategies, and a thousand details that could make or break this insane plan. By the time dawn broke over the Vegas skyline, I had filled three pages of my notebook with lists, sketches, and frantic notes.
Now, sitting in Orion’s suite—the one that still functioned as his office since we’d taken over mine for sleeping—I spread my papers across the conference table like battle plans.
Because that’s exactly what they were.
