Missed Connections Las Vegas Novels & Stories

I've never imagined my relationship to have any dent in it. To me, Chris was just the man I needed but now I lost him. I cried when the plane took off, I cried when the plane finally left Vegas. "What has happened has happened and it accounts for nothing. Plus, what happened in Vegas stays in Vegas." I consoled myself with a mantra. I lost Chris, goodbye to him. I couldn't care less. He's dead to me. And to Vegas, it was a waste of time and a memorial for heartbreak.

The whiskey had worn off around 4 AM, which meant he'd spent the last four hours sober and aware of exactly what he'd done. The city sprawled beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows like an accusation. All those people living lives that didn't revolve around making mistakes and then paying for them. He finally turned his phone back on. Forty-three missed calls. Thirty-one from Victoria. Twelve from Richard Thompson (his attorney, probably panicking about something). Nothing from Selena. He hadn't actually expected anything from Selena, but the absence of her name still managed to hurt. Victoria's voicemail was predictable:

I badly hoped they would be able to squeeze some helpful information from Elle. It was dark when we reached Las Vegas. Light sparkled everywhere I turned. We went to one of Daemon's apartments to prepare for tonight. After unpacking our duffels, and taking out the weapons stashed in the box we came with. I gave the team an hour to freshen up, order some food, and relax while I made a call to Cirilla, to check up on the progress with Elle. We were barely halfway into the call when I heard sharp screams from her end and we got disconnected abruptly. Even after she had messaged me, telling me she was okay, I was still worried.

POV: ELI "Victor." Eli nodded and immediately steered him toward the VIP tables, putting his body between Madden and the dance floor. The Changing of the Guard in Vegas was a sacred ritual. Stan Davis's farewell had required Russell Edgington's name on the invite list, a formality both parties understood for what it was. Russell hadn't attended a Michealson event since the Tabitha incident. That arrangement had held for years. Which meant Victor being here tonight was not a courtesy call.

Nolan's POV. When I stepped out of the bar restroom, my phone rang from my pants pocket. As soon as I saw Alex's call appear on the screen, I furrowed my brows momentarily and some thoughts began to arise in my mind about my little doll. Because if it was not something important, Alex would never call my personal number. "Hello?" I picked up the phone and went straight outside. The other end of the line reported the situation to me in his usual serious tone, “Sir, Miss Rosalynn just entered a bar on Las Vegas Boulevard to meet a certain sponsor of her club.”

I gave a small nod. He'd find out I was with her eventually anyway. The phone rang only once. Then... "Vanessa?" Leo sounded breathless. "Thank God." "I've been trying to reach you." "We were at Milestone," Vanessa explained. "The network was down, so we couldn't really see any calls. Sorry about that." "What's happening?" "Is everything okay?" For a moment all we heard was muffled movement. Footsteps. A door opening. Then closing. His breathing steadied.

Joseph Lennon looked out across the rows of seating reminding Aislen of when she had stood there just a few days before, and she smothered a laugh remembering how Havermouth had, effectively, given her the key to the town for being shot. “Oh f-k,” Aislen said, loud enough that several people in the nearby rows looked over their shoulders at her, and Heath reacted, whether instinctually responding to the presence of his mates or his werewolf hearing picking up on her voice, twisting in his chair in order to look back at her. Aislen clapped her free hand over her mouth. “Sorry,” she whispered through her fingers. “My bad.” She waited until they turned back to the front. “What is being done abo

The roar of the crowd reverberated through the stadium as the Denver Outlaws burst onto the field, their spirits electrified by the anticipation of the impending clash with the formidable Las Vegas Gamblers. Each step they took sent tremors rippling beneath their cleats, fueling the fire within their hearts. The atmosphere crackled with excitement, a primal energy that coursed through the veins of both players and fans alike. Among the sea of thunderous applause, Jeremy caught a glimpse of Lloyd, his 57-year-old friend and owner of the Billings Wolves, making his way towards him. Lloyd's presence was unexpected, but Jeremy welcomed the surprise with a grin as he slowed his pace to greet him.

He doesn't even have a family; no friend, yet, he's this stinky rich. Somehow, I think he's been looking for a lady. I don't really know her or anything about her, but with how desperately he's been looking for her; I fear she's gonna be dead if he finds her. I went out to the balcony and joined the rest of the board members on the round table where they sat, awaiting Damon's arrival. "He'll be here soon" I said to them as I took my seat and one of them sighed. Hmph. They're so scared of seeing him.

A few feet away, my back against the banister. We sat in silence for a while. Outside, the Las Vegas morning was just starting to exist — the particular flat grey light before the sun came fully up and turned everything gold and dishonest. "I saw Elaine's missed calls last night," he said. "After the gala. When Sarah gave my phone back." I didn't say anything. "I called the hospital. They said a woman matching your description had been discharged." He paused. "They wouldn't tell me more because I apparently wasn't listed as your emergency contact anymore."