Alex’s POVI hate Vegas but somehow I am always in the heart of the city for one business meeting or the other.The thing about Vegas is, it always smells like desperation. Cheap perfume, stale whiskey, and the electric hum of bad decisions waiting to happen. I should be used to it by now, from the relentless noise, the synthetic glitz, the way time folds in on itself when you’re drowning in too many flashing lights down to the hollow promises. But here I am again, standing in a room full of overeager tech bros and recycled sales pitches, nursing a drink I don’t want and counting the hours until I can get the hell out of here. All while keeping a neutral face of course “Mr. Kincaid, pleasure to finally meet you.” Some kid in an ill-fitting suit shoves a sweaty palm at me. I don’t bother remembering his name. I won’t need it tomorrow or ever. That is if he doesn't make a name for himself at all.“Likewise,” I lie, offering the kind of practiced smile that never reaches my eyes. He say
Last Updated : 2026-05-31 Read more