His Kingdom (Owning Vegas Book 1)

I’ve been avoiding Charlotte, not because I don’t want to see her. It’s because of how fucking much I want to see her. I spilled my guts last night—early this morning. Told her things I’ve never told anyone, and the fact I did it so easily scares the shit out of me.

What else am I going to spill to this woman? Am I going to admit that I’m exactly the monster she suspects me of being? Tell her all the ways I break the fucking law? Give her ammunition to use against me? I can’t be that goddamn stupid.

I need to remember that as much as I want to keep her, as much as this woman is mine, I can’t trust her with all of my shit. I can’t trust anyone that much unless they’re as knee-deep in it as I am. That’s why Carlo, Sammie, and I work so well together.

There’s an element of trust between us. Not blind trust. I wouldn’t put it past them to stab me in the back. Anyone is capable of that. I don’t think they would, but it’s a possibility I’m aware of. I watch everyone in my life. Always on the lookout for a traitor, someone trying to take what I’ve built.

A text notification has me picking up my phone. My thumb swipes at the screen to open the message.

Sammie:

Boss, your girl is coming down. You might wanna take a look.

Take a look? What the fuck is he talking about?

I made sure Charlotte had a table with full service at one of our quieter bars for her to spend time with her friend. Another reason I’ve been avoiding her is the fact that I don’t want to smother her. Actually, scratch that. I do. I just don’t want her to think I’m smothering her.

I pick up the remote to my left and flick through the CCTV until I see her. And fuck, do I see her. A lot of her. “What the fuck is she wearing?”

I’m standing and heading to the door before I realize what I’m doing. I’ve been holed up in my office all day alone, working through shit that has been piling up since I met Charlotte. Walking through the Casino floor, I don’t stop. That is until I see her. Again. This time, in person. I wait for her to look up before making a beeline in her direction.

Her eyes widen, and by the time I reach her, I have my jacket off. “Sweetheart, you look… cold,” I tell her, wrapping the fabric around her shoulders as I kiss the middle of her forehead. I look to my friend. He’s getting way too much entertainment from me right now. “Carlo is looking for you,” I say. He’s not. But Sammie doesn’t need to know that.

“Right. On it, boss.” Sammie shakes his head and walks away.

“Ah, nope, I’m good. Thanks.” Charlotte shrugs the jacket off her shoulders and smiles up at me. “Louie, this is Evie. Evie, Louie.”

I nod politely at the girl while extending a hand. “Hi, thanks for coming out here to see Charlotte.”

Evie takes my palm in hers. “Um, yeah, I’ve known Charlotte practically my whole life. I think I should be the one thanking you for looking out for her.”

“It’s not a hardship,” I say as I turn back to Charlotte. My eyes take her in. She’s wearing a white dress—or is it a shirt? Because I’m pretty sure dresses are supposed to be longer than what she’s got on. Sparkly sequins cover the top half of the material, which is hugging her breasts the way my hands ache to. “You look beautiful. Sure you’re not cold, though? There isn’t a lot of fabric on that shirt.”

“It’s a dress. And I’m sure. Are you coming to the bar with us?” she asks me.

“I wasn’t planning on it, but if you’re going out looking like that, I have to come with you to ward off all the assholes who are going to hit on you.”

“No one is hitting on me.” Charlotte laughs.

“They can hit on me, though, especially that one.” Evie nods to her left, and my gaze falls on fucking Emmanuel.

“You don’t want to go near that one,” I reply, while wrapping a possessive arm around Charlotte’s waist.

It’s not that I think Emanuel would hurt my girl. It’s that I don’t think he wouldn’t. If I ever give him a reason to come after me, I know the first thing he’ll attack won’t be me. It’ll be her. That’s how his cartel has always worked. He’s his father’s son after all. I’d be fucking stupid to think otherwise, just because we share a history.

“You okay?” Charlotte looks up at me again, concern written all over her face.

I lean forward and press against the side of her head. “I’m good,” I tell her. “Come on, let’s get that drink.”

“Okay,” she says.

“Louie, are you going to introduce me to your friends?” Emmanuel approaches us as we walk towards the bar.

“Emmanuel, this is Charlotte, my girlfriend. And this is Evie,” I tell him.

“Well, Charlotte, it’s a pleasure to meet the woman who’s captured this old bastard’s heart,” Emmanuel says. He then turns his attention to Evie.

Shit. I know that look. I’ve seen it on my friend once before. When we were sixteen and he became fixated on a girl named Laura. A girl who looks like she could be sisters with Evie. His obsession lasted a full year until one day the girl disappeared. No one ever saw her again.

“Charlotte, take Evie over to the bar. I’ll meet you in there,” I say, letting go of her.

“Sure. It was nice to meet you,” she says to Emmanuel.

“You too.” He nods politely in Charlotte’s direction.

I wait until the girls are out of earshot before turning my glare on Emmanuel. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” he asks with amusement in his tone.

“I know that look. I’ve seen it before. Evie isn’t her,” I remind him.

“Isn’t who?”

“Laura,” I say her name, and wait for the hit to come. It doesn’t. Back when she first disappeared, Emmanuel would swing every time anyone mentioned her. Guess he’s developed some self-control over the years.

His jaw twitches. “I don’t know who you’re talking about,” he says, looking me dead in the eye.

“Right, and I’m fucking Father Christmas. Don’t fuck with my girl’s friend, Emmanuel,” I warn him.

“I have no intention of fucking with her. Now, fucking her… that’s not off the table.” He smirks and turns around, heading in the girls’ direction.

I pull out my phone and text the guys. I’m not dealing with the fallout of Emmanuel’s fucked-up mind.

Me:

Come and rein in E. He’s got the Laura look for Charlotte’s friend.

Sammie:

Saw that one coming. She looks like her ghost.

Carlo:

This I gotta see. Nothing unravels that bastard.noveldrama

Me:

This is Charlotte’s friend. She cannot get mixed up with E. Get here, now.

Sammie:

On it. Although you did just send me away.

Pocketing my phone, I make my way over to the table I haven’t taken my eyes off. Emmanuel is sitting next to Evie and Charlotte—whose eyes are on me. I sit down and drag her chair over until it’s pressed up against mine. My arm wraps around the back. “How was your day?” I ask Charlotte.

“I was Evie’s personal Barbie doll, so hell,” she whispers.

“I heard that you loved every minute of my abuse.” Evie waves an accusatory finger at her friend.

“Sure I did.” Charlotte laughs.

“So, Louie, tell me. How’d you do it?” Evie asks me.

“Do what?”

“How’d you kill Charlotte’s ex and make it look like an overdose?” she clarifies, her eyes fixed on my face. My expression.

I blink at her. And then look to Charlotte, who is staring back at me, waiting for my answer.

“He didn’t,” Emmanuel says. “I did.”

“Do you just go around killing all of your friends’ girlfriends’ exes?” Evie raises a curious brow at him.

“Only the ones who leave bruises on my friend’s girlfriends,” Emmanuel replies without missing a beat.

“So, are you like an assassin or something?” Evie tilts her head to the side.

I can’t get a read on this chick. Is she serious right now? Or does she think this is all a joke?

“No, but ever heard of the De La Sangre Cartel?” Emmanuel asks.

“Fucking hell,” I groan.

Evie ignores me. “No, should I have?”

“Probably best you haven’t. I run the organization,” Emmanuel tells her.

“Emmanuel, really?” I grunt.

“So, you’re supposed to be a big scary drug lord or something?” Evie continues to probe. “I don’t see it. You don’t look that scary.”

“He’s full of shit. That’s why. We didn’t kill Owen,” I tell her, annoyed that I’m lying to Charlotte without having much of a choice but to do it. “What happened?”

“Rachel said he was found in a hotel room. Overdosed. But it’s strange… I mean, I know the guy was an asshole, but he didn’t do drugs. He wasn’t an addict,” Charlotte says.

“We also didn’t think he was doing sisters but he did that too.” Evie shrugs. “I say good riddance. The asshole broke your heart. I just wish I could have been the one to end him. I even bought a shovel.”

“He didn’t break my heart,” Charlotte says. “My sister did.”

“Semantics. So, tell me more about this cartel of yours. What exactly do you do other than kill people?” Evie returns her focus to Emmanuel.

“You hungry? Let’s order food,” I interject, before my idiot friend can say anything more. I’m pretty sure Evie thinks he’s joking at this point, but you can never be too sure. Or careful.