Page 9 of His Kingdom

My phone lights up with an incoming call. It’s my mom. Pushing the button on the side, I power the device down. I can’t talk to anyone right now. I’m not going to cry. And I know if I talk to my mom,I’m going to cry.

I throw my phone onto my bed, pick up the room card, and shove it in my back pocket. Then I walk out to the hall and towards the elevator. I have no idea where I’m going, but I feel like day-drinking is on the menu today. It’s Vegas after all. You don’t have to wait until five o’clock to start drinking here, right?

There’s also the fact that absolutely no one knows me, so even if someone does see me day-drinking before noon, it won’t matter. It can’t ruin my reputation. Although, back home, I’m sure I’m going to be forever known as the runaway bride. The woman who broke Owen’s heart.

Maybe that’s better than the alternative. The version where the whole town knows my fiancé cheated on me with my sister. I can’t drink in this casino, though. I don’t want to chance running intohimagain. Louie. I’ve done my best not to think about the tall, dark, andwaytoo good looking man who let me swim in the closed pool late last night.

He also sat and listened to me talk. And he didn’t look like he was judging me. He said he owns the casino. If that’s true, I’m sure he’ll be around somewhere. Which is why I’m getting drunksomewhere else.

Walking down the strip, I dodge the crowds of people already partying. I guess it’s not too early for me to start doing the same.

I don’t want to venture too far. A few blocks down, a big neon sign in the shape of a playing card grabs my attention. Wild Card Casino. Looks like this is as good a place as any to drown my sorrows today.

ChapterFive

Obsession. An idea or thought that continually preoccupies a person’s mind. I’ve been obsessed with two things in life: making money and ruling this city. And now, I think I might have found a third obsession that keeps intruding my thoughts. Charlotte.

I spent the night looking up everything I could learn about her. I know where she grew up. I know the school she graduated from and that she was valedictorian. I know she has one sister, Melanie, and was engaged to be married this past weekend to an Owen Aiken, a sheriff in the small southern town she came from.

I know she broke her ankle in the eighth grade during cheer practice. I also know that she was admitted to the hospital a year ago when she miscarried at six weeks. She had chicken pox when she was five and her tonsils removed when she was seven.

I dug as deep as I could. She’s clean as a whistle. Not a single parking ticket attached to her name. Charlotte Armstrong is the all-American girl next door. The type you take home to your mother. The same type I never would have let near my own mother.

As I’ve gotten older, the memories I had of the woman have turned from fun, loving, and playful to the reality of who and what she really was. A hooker. An addict who left her son alone in an alleyway while she went and overdosed on drugs. I mourned her for so long. And then one day I decided I was done. She didn’t love me. If she did, she never would have left.

Although, if I didn’t have the childhood I did, I probably wouldn’t be where I am today. So her leaving wasn’t the worst outcome. Being alone isn’t a bad thing. It’s something you get used to and come to savor. If you don’t have anyone you care about, you can’t be hurt.

Which is why I need to cure myself of my latest obsession with Charlotte. I don’t know what it is about the woman that I’m so drawn to. Yes, she’s gorgeous but this is Vegas. The city is full of gorgeous women. Charlotte is just more… innocent. Perhaps that’s the draw. Her innocence.

The only thing a man like me could do for a woman like that is break her. Destroy all the good she embodies. I don’t know how I know she’s good. I just do. In my position, you get real skilled at reading people, and I had Charlotte picked within minutes of sitting down at her table last night.

That’s when I should have gotten up and walked away. Except I couldn’t. Like I said, I’m fucking drawn to the woman, borderline obsessing over her. I know she’s not in the casino. I watched her walk out and forced myself not to follow her.

For the last three hours, I’ve been holed up in my office, trying to get work donewithoutthinking about her. Clearly that’s going about as well as getting blood from a stone. I haven’t looked her up again online, though. I’m not sure there’s much more to find on her anyway.

I need a drink. I can’t keep thinking about a woman I’ve met once. No woman has ever taken up this much of my time before.

The buzzing of my phone snaps my focus away from Charlotte when Sammie’s name flashes across my screen. “Yeah?” I answer.

“Boss. You know the sayingdon’t shoot the messenger, right?” he asks me.

“What happened?” I stand and grab my keys and wallet off the desk.

“Ah… yeah, maybe you should just come over to the Wild Card and see for yourself. The Four Suits bar,” he says.

“What the fuck is going on, Sammie?” I grunt, already walking out of my office, and slam the door.

“Just get over here.” He cuts the call before I can respond.

There are two people in this world who can get away with hanging up on me: Sammie and Carlo. The same two men I see when I walk into Four Suits ten minutes later. Each nursing a glass of amber liquid while neither appears to be on high alert. Which makes me wonder why the fuck I’m here.

“What’s going on?” I direct my question to Sammie.

“That chick from last night… What was her name again?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

“Charlotte. What about her?” It takes more effort than I’d like to admit to keep my tone neutral. I don’t need these fuckers giving me shit over being hung up on a woman.

“You said she doesn’t mean fuck all to you, right?” Sammie smirks.

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