The space is sterile, empty, lifeless. Floor-to-ceiling windows overlook the Vegas strip, but the view feels hollow after spending the evening in Marley’s warmth.
I pour myself a whiskey and sit at my desk.
I need to call my assistant. Set up the interview.
But first, I need to sit with who I am when I’m here.
Damon Blackwell.
CEO of Blackwell Entertainment Group.
Billionaire.
The man I resent being.
I down the whiskey in one burning gulp.
My parents built this empire from nothing. Blackwell Entertainment Group, casinos, hotels, restaurants, and production studios. They poured their lives into it, worked themselves to exhaustion making the Blackwell name mean something.
And then they died.
A construction accident at one of their hotel properties. Structural failure during an inspection. They were touring the site, checking safety protocols, because they were hands-on like that, always involved, when part of the building collapsed.
Killed instantly.
I was only eighteen.
One day, I was an everyday kid, and the next, I was a billionaire orphan inheriting an empire I never asked for. The money felt like blood money. Every dollar, every property deed, every stock option, all of it represented their deaths.
Their absence.
A consolation prize for losing the two people who actually mattered.
Queenie helped me through it. She held me while I raged, cried, and tried to drink myself to death.‘They’d want you to keep their legacy alive… the business, the Blackwell name… it meant everything to them,’she told me.
So I did.
I learned to run the company.
Hired the best people.
Made sure every property met the highest safety standards because I’d be damned if anyone else died on my watch.
I kept the Blackwell name strong and made my parents proud, even though they aren’t here to see it.
But I despise every second.
I hate the board meetings and corporate dinners, and the way people look at me as if I am special just because I have money. I hate that my worth is tied to my bank account rather than to who I actually am.
And then Queenie got sick.
Breast cancer. Stage three.
I would have given every cent to save her. I would have burned the entire empire if it meant she’d be okay.
The medical bills were astronomical. Chemotherapy, radiation, experimental treatments, I threw money at the problem like it could fix things.
She beat it.
