Chapter Five

It worked.

Somehow, against all logic, it actually worked.

Luca left the dressing room, and I went home after changing into my more comfortable clothes, taking two buses from the Cashmere Crown to my apartment on the north side of town.  It wasn't much, but it was all I could afford when I first moved to Vegas.

I unlocked the steel screen door, then the reinforced front door behind it.  Once inside, I locked everything again before getting ready for bed.

What was I supposed to do when Luca eventually saw that I lived in the worst part of town inside a tiny studio apartment filled with mismatched Goodwill furniture?

I decided that could be tomorrow's problem.

I skipped my entire night routine and collapsed straight into bed.

I blinked, and suddenly the night was over.

No dreams. No real sleep.

Just morning.

And voices inside my apartment.

Fear locked every muscle in my body.

Who was in my house?

How did they get in?

And...were they talking about my coffee pot?

I held my breath and listened closer.

"Her quarters at the Cashmere Crown have the latest espresso machine.  She won't need this old thing."

They were absolutely talking about my coffee pot.

I shot out of bed and spun toward the alarming number of people standing inside my apartment.  I yanked open my nightstand drawer and grabbed the small knife I kept in there for protection.

"There's no need for that, Ms. Vale.  We're here on behalf of Mr. Moretti."

Luca sent them.

How the hell did he know where I lived?

Before I could react, someone caught my wrist.  His grip was strong but careful, effortlessly holding me still.  He smiled calmly while controlling the hand holding the knife.

"Please drop the weapon, Ms. Vale."

Something about his composure made me want to do as he said.  Men who broke into apartments before sunrise usually weren't safe people, but he didn't seem like a bad guy.

"My name is Brian," he said smoothly. "I work for Mr. Moretti.  He instructed us to help move your belongings into the hotel.  It is my understanding you'll be staying in one of his private villas for the foreseeable future."

Did Luca tell him why I was staying there?

"Oh.  Yes.  Of course." I relaxed slightly, though Brian still hadn't released my wrist.

He tilted his head, one brow lifting.

Brian looked older than Luca.  Bald. Broad shoulders. Salt-and-pepper goatee.  The kind of man who looked terrifyingly comfortable about violence.

I finally released the knife. Brian swiftly removed it from my hand.

"I'll dispose of this," he said. "You won't be needing it anymore."

The statement sounded less comforting than he probably intended.

"I was instructed to have you gather anything of personal importance before heading to the casino.  Luca is expecting you this morning."

Eight AM. Room 6701.

Luca's voice replayed clearly in my head. 

"Yes.  I'll go ahead and get dressed."

I attempted to move toward my closet, but Brian stepped into my path. 

"If I may, Ms. Vale," he said politely, "I took the liberty of examining your wardrobe and, unfortunately, I couldn't find anything appropriate."

My eye twitched.

"There's a Rodarte bag near your closet with something selected for today." 

First, my coffee maker.

Now my clothes.

I slowly walked over and picked up the designer bag.  Inside was a gorgeous black outfit with a white waistband detail that looked effortlessly expensive. 

I hated how much I liked it.

"Why are you doing this?"

Brian's expression remained perfectly serious.

"Mr. Moretti's exact words were 'No one will believe it unless she actually looks like someone I'd date.' "

Of course they were.

I quietly shut myself in the bathroom and got dressed.  I pulled my hair into a sleek bun, leaving two soft pieces loose to frame my face.  Thankfully, I still owned a thrifted pair of Dior sunglasses and an older pair of Michael Kors heels that almost looked vintage now.

Once I was ready, I grabbed the Rubbermaid tote hidden in the back of my closet.

My firebox.

The single box I'd save if everything else burned down. 

"There's a car waiting for you outside, Ms. Vale," Brian said, taking the box from me. "I'm certain we'll see each other again later today."

"Which- "

"You'll know which one."

And somehow, he was right.

The second I stepped outside, I spotted a bright yellow Ferrari parked directly in front of my building.

What exactly was Luca trying to prove with all this showboating?

I rolled my eyes behind my sunglasses and headed toward the car.

"Surprise."

Fear slid instantly down my spine.

Luca sat behind the wheel, one arm arrogantly draped over the steering wheel.

"Get in."

I obeyed immediately.

My mind began to spiral.

He was clearing out my apartment to erase evidence that I ever existed before driving this car off a cliff.

"Where are we going?" I asked carefully as I shut the door.

"Breakfast," Luca replied coolly before slamming his foot onto the gas.

We drove silently through the cracked streets of North Las Vegas while my appetite completely abandoned me.

Everything I had built for myself, even if it wasn't much, had disappeared in less than an hour.

"Brian picked good clothes for you," Luca commented casually, his eyes fixed on the road.

"What was wrong with my clothes?  I'm sure I would've looked perfectly fine at some rinky-dink breakfast place."

A low laugh escaped him.

Then Luca took a sharp left, followed by another hard turn into a dark alleyway.

This was it.

He was going to kill me.

Suddenly, the pavement ahead of us split apart. 

A hidden tunnel slowly revealed itself beneath the city.

My mouth dropped open as Luca drove straight into it.

The tunnel was bright white and impossibly sleek, stretching endlessly underground while the Ferrari accelerated faster and faster.

This had been beneath Las Vegas the entire time?

How many secrets did this city have?

Minutes later, we emerged near the Strip, where Luca pulled into a private parking garage.

A valet rushed forward immediately.

"Take this one back to my house."

The valet nodded without hesitation and slid behind the wheel.

"He knows where you live?" I asked carefully.

"Sienna," Luca said smoothly, "everyone in this town works for me."

He pushed open the doors to a casino I had somehow never entered before.

The lobby looked like another universe.

A massive chandelier shaped like a supernova exploded across the ceiling above a slot machine with a ten-thousand-dollar minimum bid.  Stunning cocktail servers floated across the gaming floor, offering champagne and hors d'oeuvres to people who looked richer than entire countries.

I hated to admit it, but Luca had been right. 

My old clothes never would have survived in here.

"Luca," an elegant older woman said warmly as she approached us, "when you mentioned bringing someone to breakfast, I certainly wasn't expecting such a beautiful young woman."

She wore Chanel so naturally that it looked sewn into her DNA.

"Good morning, Rosie," Luca replied, leaning down to kiss her cheek.

Then his hand settled possessively against the small of my back.

"I'd like you to meet Sienna," he said smoothly.

"My girlfriend."