Missed Connections Las Vegas Novels & Stories

Emma's POV The night before we were set to return home, we decided to celebrate our last evening in Las Vegas with a special dinner at one of the city’s most renowned restaurants. Ryan had made reservations at a rooftop venue that overlooked the entire Strip, and as we sat down at our table, the view took my breath away. The city sprawled out beneath us, a glittering sea of lights that seemed to go on forever.

"As long as you give me that man. I only need one kidney. I'll pay him whatever he wants." "I've already sent a helicopter to New York," Liam said. "He'll be in Las Vegas in about an hour." Broderick exhaled shakily, relief flooding his voice. "Good. I swear I won't hurt her. Unless I have no other choice, I won't lay a finger on her." The call ended. Broderick stared at the screen--and only then noticed the missed calls. More than twenty. All from Liam. He'd almost missed his last chance.

With a nickname like his, it was simply impossible not to associate the casino with him. My phone was still on the table. Gray took it to also check something. I reached out to him and unlocked the screen with my finger, but did not pick it up. I didn’t intend to call Misha back today, whose missed calls hung on the phone in a certain amount, but the photo that Koppel sent ... She seemed to be trying to escape from the phone and invisibly, step by step, covered her dry eyes. Moreover, it even seemed to me that I could smell blood, and the skin on my chest pricked as if it had been torn off me.

Only thirty minutes had passed, yet it felt like hours. My stomach lurched. I can't be trapped here for long. Exhaling shakily, I searched for Maverick’s contact. He was the only one I could call. My only real friend. The phone rang. Once. Twice. No answer. I tried again. Nothing. He was on shift—probably busy. My breath hitched as I checked my internet connection. There was no service. If I was unfortunate to get out of here before the game, I would miss it.

Why? The back of my eyes started to warm, but I held back my tears. Not here. Not in front of this old man. I suddenly miss Damon. How can I contact him? He doesn't have any social media accounts. The only way to hear his voice was the telephone number of his company in L.A. I sit on the floor since there's no extra chair for a visitor like me. We all know that the Laverde clan doesn't get along well with the Carters, except Uncle Adam and granduncle Alfred.

“I don’t think the three of us harbor any misconceptions in that regard.” Andrew’s piercing gaze fixed on the younger financer. “Be that as it may, Justin, I’d prefer none of us is burning social or political bridges before everything we’re negotiating is secure.” Chagrined, Mr. Mitchell nodded. “Yes. Of course.” “You said there were two routes opened through LA. San Diegan and what’s the other?” “Oh, yes.” Thus prompted Mr. Mitchell flipped through his paperwork again. “Sunset Limited. Tri-weekly to New Orleans.”

The money's almost secondary—the connections you'd need to even get a chance are insane. Angie's eyes lit up instantly. If her restaurant could get an ad during Dreamscape's next concert, there would probably be long lines from people all over the country at her stores. "I get it now, Lindsay. Thanks for introducing me to this golden ticket." They both marveled at how their unspoken dreams were realized by a delivery man. If they told anyone, no one would believe it. … Felix had arrived at an abandoned building in Kashmere. The headquarters team had blocked off the area, with Marley present.

Emmett's racing heart slowed down a notch. "Sounds about right." However, as the evening wore on, Emmett kept glancing back, time and again, yet he never saw Josephine return to her spot. Then, a text buzzed in. A payment from Josephine, labeled as a gift expense. 'What's that supposed to mean?' he thought. Restlessness took over, and Emmett stepped out onto the balcony to call her. However, his calls went unanswered. Her phone was switched off. He inhaled deeply, trying to settle the storm inside.

I spent two glorious weeks at the mountain resort, completely unreachable. No phones. No messages. No desperate vampires begging for money. Just premium blood, luxury accommodations, and absolute peace. When I finally turned my phone back on, I had 247 missed calls and 189 text messages. I scrolled through them with detached amusement. From Damien: "WHERE ARE YOU?!" "The tribute gifts are missing!" "We can't get into the Convocation!" "CALL ME BACK!" From Lily: "Sister Scarlett, my agency dropped me! What happened?!" "All my bookings are cancelled!" "Please call them and fix this!"

Far from the noise, it felt like stepping through time—every mile quiet, unpredictable. Mountains, lakes, oceans, old ruins, crowded cities—they all stuck with me. And somewhere along the way, I met Mira Mendoza. Gentle. Strong. Like morning light. Her smile hit like a warm spring breeze, clearing out the last of the gloom in me. She was sharp. Effortless. I was all in before I knew it. I knew—she was the one I wanted for the rest of my life. *** I flew back. I missed home—and I already missed Mira.