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One Hundred and Thirty
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2026-08-16 01:18:30
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The Billionaire's Showgirl One Hundred and Thirty-Three
I decided to attend the luncheon everyone clearly expected me to avoid.That was the first useful thought I had after staring at the invitation on Beth’s phone until the gold script blurred into a pretty insult.The Nevada Heritage Circle had not removed my name from the guest list. That was not kindness. It was theater. They wanted an empty chair with my name on it, a delicate little symbol they could discuss over cucumber sandwiches and chilled white wine. Poor Sienna. So overwhelmed. So unfortunate about her mother. So wise of her to stay away.I had spent too much of my life onstage not to recognize blocking when I saw it.They had given me a part.I intended to rewrite it.“No,” Luca said.We were in his bedroom three hours later, because apparently preparing to walk into a room full of old Nevada women required the kind of strategy session most people reserved for hostile mergers. My dress hung from the wardrobe door, soft blue instead of bridal white, elegant without looking li
The Billionaire's Showgirl One Hundred and Thirty-Two
I woke up to my mother being called a thief, a mistress, and a criminal informant by people who had never known her.The first headline had been bad.The comments were worse.By the time morning light slipped through Luca’s bedroom curtains, the story had already multiplied across gossip accounts, business blogs, anonymous forums, and social media threads full of strangers speaking with the confidence of people who had never once had to hold a dead woman’s handwriting in a vault beneath a theater.Lena Vale had been Don D’Caputo’s lover.Lena Vale had stolen from Halcyon Ridge.Lena Vale had sold information to the Morettis.Lena Vale had helped cover up illegal land transfers, then vanished with money meant for Don’s enemies.Every lie carried just enough truth in its bones to stand upright.My mother had worked at The Gilded Room.She had handled backstage accounts and private event books.Her name did appear beside a Halcyon discrepancy.She had kept a copy of something powerful me
The Billionaire's Showgirl One Hundred and Thirty-One
By morning, three major investors had asked Luca to postpone the wedding.They did not use the word fear.Men like that rarely did. Fear was for people who could not afford consultants. Investors had concerns. They had timing issues. They had reputational sensitivity and fiduciary obligations and deeply respectful recommendations delivered through lawyers who sounded dead long before they entered the room.I sat at Luca’s dining table with my mother’s letter sealed in a protective sleeve beside me and listened to one of them explain why marrying me had become a liability.He did not say it that way either.Of course he didn’t.“Given the unresolved D’Caputo matters, Mr. Moretti,” the lawyer said from the conference screen, “the advisory group believes a temporary postponement would demonstrate prudence.”Luca stood at the head of the table, one hand braced against the polished wood. His face was calm in the way storms looked calm from very far away.“Prudence,” he repeated.The lawyer
The Billionaire's Showgirl One Hundred and Thirty
I heard my mother’s voice from beyond the grave, and it did not sound like goodbye.It sounded like a warning.If you are reading this, Don is dead and Ronan has found you.The words sat in my hands, fragile with age and terrible with purpose. The paper had softened at the folds, its edges browned as if time had tried to burn away what my mother could not say out loud. Her handwriting slanted across the page in the same familiar loops I had seen on grocery lists, birthday cards, and notes tucked into my dance bag when I was too tired to believe in myself.Baby, eat something before rehearsal.Don’t forget your spare tights.You are allowed to want more.Now that same hand had written a sentence that made my entire childhood feel like a hallway with hidden doors.Luca stood beside me in the vault corridor, close enough that his sleeve brushed mine. Dust drifted through Brian’s flashlight beam. The evidence box sat open on the portable case, full of ledgers, old stills, blacked-out docum
The Billionaire's Showgirl One Hundred and Twenty-Nine
Someone was hunting for Lena Vale’s copy while I was still supposed to be choosing flowers.That thought hit me with such sharp, ridiculous fury that for one second, I nearly laughed.Not because anything was funny. Nothing was funny. There was an intruder under Euphoria, moving through a sealed vault corridor built into the bones of a theater where I had once danced for applause and nearly died in smoke. There was a brass key on Luca’s dining table, a warning from his dead father still trapped in the air, and a hidden evidence box that might hold the names Ronan Kade had killed to protect.But somewhere, in the middle of all this, people still expected me to be a bride.Flowers. Dress. Guest list. Seating. Music.As if the wedding had not become a battlefield with ivory invitations.The sensor pulsed red on Brian’s screen.Movement inside the sealed vault corridor.Luca’s hand closed around mine.
The Billionaire's Showgirl One Hundred and Twenty-Eight
The war beneath New Zenith was never only about land.It was about ownership of the city’s invisible power.That was what I understood as Evangeline’s words settled over the penthouse table, colder than the brass key resting between us.It names the real owners.Not investors.Not buyers.Owners.The kind of people who did not need their names on towers because they owned the roads feeding them, the water beneath them, the emergency routes around them, the security contracts watching them, the committees approving them, and the buried corridors no tourist would ever see. The beautiful city Luca had built suddenly felt less like glass and ambition and more like a glowing crown sitting on top of old machinery someone else had wired to explode.My mother had known.Lena Vale, who once cut coupons at our kitchen table and taught me to stitch ribbons into ballet shoes, had found the names men like Ronan Kade had h
The Billionaire's Showgirl 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 mo
The Billionaire's Showgirl Chapter Four
His body froze against mine."What did you say?" Luca's voice lost its silk and became steel. Every word came out precise and controlled, as every word was deciding my fate. I hooked my feet together behind him, keeping him close to me while I spoke. "I know what you did last night, Luca," I wh
The Billionaire's Showgirl Chapter Three
The music hit first.A slow swell of brass and piano rolled through the theater while the curtain stayed drawn, teasing the audience with anticipation. Behind it, under the heat of backstage lights and the smell of hairspray, I stood frozen in position like a loaded weapon waiting to fire.Then th
The Billionaire's Showgirl Chapter One
I adjusted the rhinestones in my costume and reminded myself that rich people were human too.They laugh. They cry. They spend a thousand dollars an hour hiring a nobody Vegas showgirl like me for private performancesNo, not that kind of show.This was a scripted set our director reserved for hi
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