CHAPTER 1
Travis
I don’t need this shit right now.
The two teenage boys the Palazzo security caught trying to get up to my hotel suite stare at me bewildered.
They never made it up to the correct floor.
“We’re having some issues with the elevators, and when they couldn’t give us a proper room number, we brought them down here,” one of the security guards explains.
I nod.
“That’s when they confessed why they’re really here.”
I stare at the two teens.
At first, I chalked up their attempt as two overly enthusiastic racing fans who’d heard I arrived in Vegas early and wanted to sneak an autograph or something.
Yet as I pendulum my gaze between them, the quick glimpses at one another, the lowered heads and what security discovered, hidden in their bags suggests something entirely different.
“How old are you?” I ask the lanky one with black hair.
“S-Sixteen,” he answers, shifting from one foot to the other.
His blond-haired friend nudges him with his elbow. “Liar,” he whispers loud enough for me and the three other men in this private room to hear.
“Sunday’s my birthday,” the dark-haired one confesses a beat before his eyes drop back to the linoleum.
“This weekend’s Grand Prix is your birthday trip?” I guess.
“His dad brought us,” the blond one answers.
“And you thought it’d be a good idea to break in and vandalize my room?” I scowl.
They were found with spray paint, eggs, and rolls of toilet paper.
“We weren’t going to do anything. I-I just went to the store,” dark-haired boy lamely explains.
“Bullshit,” I say through gritted teeth. “What were your plans?”
They look between one another, dumbfounded.
“We just?—”
“Say it, and I might convince the security staff to let you off easy.”
The blond one runs his hands through his hair, sighing. “We needed the money.”
I squint, glancing over at the security staff, who appear to be just as confused.
“We, uh, placed a few bets and …”
“You owe money,” I finish for him.
He nods.
“And you thought vandalizing my room was going to do what?” I fold my arms across my chest.
