Franco was already in the driver’s seat, with the engine running, while he waited for Leone to come around to the front passenger seat.Ava relaxed a little in the back seat, letting the cool blast of air from the vents soothe her overheated skin.The teasing was familiar, but it didn’t lift the weight of the decision pressing down on her.There was only one person who could end this, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was out of options.But that didn’t mean she was ready to give in.Not yet.
“What about that time in eighth grade when we all had to write yet another essay about what we did over the summer?”Franco suggested, as he pulled out of the parking lot.They drove into the city, the lights of Las Vegas flickering ahead like an endless sea of stars, even though the sun was still high, baking the dry Nevada air.
“I wrote the essay,” Ava snapped, irritated.She could feel her cheeks heat up with the rush of frustration.She didn’t need to be reminded of her childhood foibles, especially not by the two men who knew her better than anyone.Better than she knew herself sometimes.
“An essay on how you flew to Mars and became queen of the Martians, which wasn’t exactly the assignment.”Franco’s grin was wide in the rearview mirror, clearly enjoying the memory more than he should.
Ava scowled, folding her arms tightly over her chest.She could feel her pulse quicken—either from anger or fear, she couldn’t tell.“It was a stupid prompt,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady.“Every year, we’d return to school, and the teacher would tell us to write an essay about what we did over the summer.It was pointless!”
Leone let out a long-suffering sigh, his tone heavy with amusement.“It was the teachers’ way of evaluating our writing skills,” he explained, as if she hadn’t heard it a thousand times before.
Ava gritted her teeth.They knew exactly what they were doing—trying to distract her with memories of schoolyard nonsense to keep her from facing what was coming.It wasn’t the essays or the triangle anymore.It was the man waiting for her.The one who could twist her world out of shape with a single glance.They both understood that.Franco and Leone knew she was afraid—afraid of the way he made her feel, powerless, as if she were losing control of everything she’d worked so hard to build.
“Well then I accomplished his mission, didn’t I?”Ava’s voice came out tight, edged with defensiveness.She didn’t want to admit they were right—that she was stalling, that the thought of surrendering control made her stomach twist.But they could see it.She felt their knowing eyes on her, and she hated it.
Franco’s gaze flicked to the rearview mirror again, the teasing gleam still there, but layered now with something sharper—too perceptive.“Sure, you ‘accomplished’ it.But I think the teacher’s point was that you couldn’t just ignore the assignment because it was boring, Ava.”
Leone’s calm voice slid in like a blade.“You don’t like being told what to do.Even when you know it’s in your best interest.”
Ava jerked her eyes to the window, watching the neon lights smear into streaks of color as they sped down the Strip.Her fingers dug into the strap of her purse, holding on as though it might anchor her against the panic building in her chest.Her pulse hammered and she felt sweat breaking out on her back.But she couldn’t let them see her fear—not Franco, not Leone.And certainly not the man waiting at the end of this drive.
At this time of the morning, there was little traffic.The streets were calm and almost eerily quiet, save for the occasional early-morning jogger or the distant hum of construction.Later in the day, though, the scene would shift drastically.The streets would fill with limousines, party buses, tourists snapping photos, and pedestrians rushing from one glitzy casino or trendy bar to the next.But right now, it felt like a fleeting moment of peace in a city that never truly slept.
The three of them bickered back and forth, filling the silence with playful jabs about Ava’s stubbornness, recalling memories from childhood.It was familiar, comforting, even though the tension hung thick in the air like the heat of a coming storm.
When they parked in the employee garage forLa Stella, one of the biggest, most expensive, and most photographed casinos on the Las Vegas Strip, Ava went silent.She couldn’t bring herself to speak—couldn’t even summon the energy to return their teasing.Franco and Leone fell silent too, but not because they were nervous.Hell, they worked in that casino every day, either as pit bosses or filling in wherever they were needed.
They all had worked various jobs atLa Stellasince they were fifteen.It was a part of their life they understood well.They knew the chaos, the long hours, the constant hum of neon lights, and the clatter of chips.But for Ava,La Stellahad never been the end game.She had different dreams—dreams that had brought her to the point where her fashion design company was growing and expanding into new regions, with new clients that bought her brand for their stores.
Her best friends teased her about her stubbornness, but deep down, they understood it and her.They understood that her refusal to take the easy path was the reason her design company had even become a success in the first place.Ava hadn’t just built a business—she’d created it from nothing, step by painful step.Every failure had only made her more determined to rise again.She’d never wanted to work for someone else.
That had been her mantra for years: Never give in.Never settle.Never let anyone else dictate her future.
And now, after ten years of sacrificing everything—sleep, friends, time, even love—her precious company was in danger.The dream she had poured her blood, sweat, and tears into was on the verge of slipping through her fingers, all because of some damn Yakuza gang leader trying to muscle in on her business.He wanted “protection money”—a phrase she couldn’t stomach.She had made it this far on her own terms.She had built her empire, and no one was going to tear it down because of some thug trying to fund his lavish lifestyle at her expense.
But even as she steeled herself against the threat, she couldn’t ignore the weight of it.The fear gnawed at the edges of her resolve, and she felt the walls closing in, tightening around her chest.Her stubbornness had gotten her here—but could it save her now?
As they walked into the casino, Ava’s steps slowed.“He won’t have time to speak with me,” Ava muttered uncertainly as she unconsciously slowed, the enormity of what she was about to do overwhelming her.She didn’t want to admit it, but she felt it—the tremor in her hands, the flutter in her stomach.Every part of her screamed for her to walk away, to handle the problem another way, even though she knew there was no other way.
But Franco and Leone had anticipated this.With practiced ease, they each placed a hand on her back, nudging her forward, as if they knew exactly what it would take to push her past the fear.
“I called ahead.He’s waiting for you,” Leone assured her gently, which only made her anxiety churn in her gut.She didn’t need their comfort.She needed control.
Franco pressed the button for the elevator, and it opened immediately, the quiet ding of the door echoing in her ears like a death knell.He turned to face her, his body shifting slightly to block the surveillance cameras.“You know what you want, Ava,” he said quietly.“Don’t let your pride get in the way.He can help you.You know he can.”
His words were meant to comfort her, but they only deepened the pit of unease in her stomach.Sheknewhe could help—hewas the only one who could.But that meant giving up control, and that terrified Ava.
Before she could respond, the doors opened.As she made a move to step out, Leone grabbed her arm, gentle but firm, pulling her back.His voice was low, a whisper only for her.“He’s harsh, Ava.But you know he’s a good man.”His breath tickled her ear as he leaned in closer.“You know what you want.Go get it.”
The words were simple, but they held weight.Ava knew Franco and Leone were trying to guide her through this, to help her face the fear she was fighting so desperately to hide.But the fear wasn’t just about the man.It was about losing herself in him, in what he could offer, in what she might have to surrender.
With a deep breath, she straightened her shoulders, attempting to shake off the anxiety that had settled like a stone in her chest.She had no other choice.She had to do this.
Leone and Franco led her out of the elevator, their presence solid and steady, like a shield.
Las Vegas was loud, brash, and unrelenting—the city lights flickered and shifted, restaurants adjusted their menus to draw in new crowds, casinos pumped in oxygen to keep gamblers from feeling the weight of exhaustion, and waitresses weaved between tables, serving alcohol to lower inhibitions.Everywhere she looked, people moved, laughed, yelled, and chattered.The pulse of the city was endless.
But here, on the executive floor ofLa Stella, there was an unexpected, almost eerie silence.The thick carpeting softened the echo of their footsteps as they walked.The quiet conversations in offices were muffled, the voices barely rising above whispers.Employees worked diligently at their computers, typing softly, almost reverently.
