LIAM
The casino's entrance was a statement of luxury. As I stepped through the doors, the sound of slot machines and the low hum of conversation surrounded me. The air was filled with the scent of expensive cigars and the soft click of high heels on polished marble. The ladies couldn't hide their gawking--a usual occurrence I was already used to.
I made my way toward the high-stakes room, my presence marked by the subtle shift in the atmosphere. Heads turned, and whispers followed in my wake. I offered courteous nods and firm handshakes here and there.
"Liam Sterling," a familiar voice called out. I turned to see David Torres, a seasoned distributor with a habit for theatrics. He extended his hand, which I took with a firm grip. "Good to see you. I hear you're quite the player tonight."
"David. Always a pleasure."
As I continued through the casino, I exchanged pleasantries with several other key figures. There was Carla Mendoza, a club owner with connections that stretched the whole of Manhattan through New Jersey. Her smile was as charming as always. Her father was a key player in the biggest cartel in Peru and I wondered if he was still around.
The mingling continued as I moved through the crowd, engaging in brief conversations. The high-stakes room was just ahead, and I knew that once inside, the game would shift from social pleasantries to serious business.
As I approached the door to the private room, I took a moment to scan the room. The air charged with anticipation. I was well aware of the eyes following me.
"Felix," I said, catching sight of my right-hand man as he approached. "How's everything looking?"
Felix nodded, his expression as impassive as ever. "Everything's set. The other players are ready, but we're still waiting on the last one."
I glanced at the clock and took a deep breath. As I entered the high-stakes room, I greeted the assembled players with a nod.
The poker game was more than just a game, a good poker player in this world knew this. A good poker player didn't just play the cards--they played the people.
Tonight's game was no different. The table was set with expensive leather chairs and polished wood, the stakes high and the players even higher. I watched as chips were stacked, eyes darting around, each player sizing up their opponents. The cards were dealt with precision, as the game began. I leaned back in my chair, my focus shifting between the game and the players The stakes were more than just financial tonight—they represented potential alliances, business opportunities, and the influence that I navigated daily. Every hand was a chance to read others, to gauge their reactions, and to place my own moves with calculated precision.
However, as the game progressed, something began to gnaw at my patience. The last player—a key participant in tonight's game—hadn't shown up. The minutes ticked by, stretching into hours, and with each passing moment, my frustration grew. It wasn't just about the game anymore; it was about respect, professionalism, and the expectations that came with high-stakes poker.
The other players were also growing restless, their faces a mixture of annoyance and curiosity. Whispers of speculation circulated around the table, each player trying to guess why the mysterious "unknown player" was missing. I could feel the irritation, the shared unease that filled the room.
I watched the door and glanced at my watch, mirroring everyone's impatience.
Just as I was about to express my growing frustration to Felix, the door to the high-stakes room opened with a soft, deliberate creak. A man in a tailored suit stepped in. The room fell silent as he approached the table, his gaze sweeping over the assembled players before settling on me. "Mr. Sterling," he began, his voice steady. "I apologize for the delay."
I raised an eyebrow, my patience wearing thin. So this was the last player that had kept us all waiting?
I glanced at the faces around the room, calculating my next words so as not to show too much of my rising anger and impatience. "You sure did take your time; we've all been waiting, " I said.
The man offered a slight bow. "I am just a messanger. I have come to tell you The Queen of the West sends her greetings, and she apologizes for her absence."
"Queen of the West?" I echoed, the other players murmuring amongst themselves.
What ridiculous game was this?
My blood simmered.
A woman? We'd been sitting here, wasting hours for her?
I leaned back in my chair, trying to keep my cool, but the truth was, I felt mocked. Ridiculed. I respected the power plays, but this was disrespect, plain and simple. My fingers tightened around the edge of the table as the messenger continued on with his formalities to the rest of the players.
Unbelievable. We'd all been held up for someone who couldn't even show her face. Not just someone—a woman. And now we were supposed to be soothed with apologies and greetings?
The room murmured, some shifting in their seats, but I wasn't the only one irritated. Without a word, I stood up, pushing my chair back with a force that caught the attention of everyone in the room. Felix shot me a glance, his eyes narrowing, but he didn't move to stop me.
"Sterling?" one of the men at the table called out.
I ignored him, not even bothering to look back. "This is a waste of time," I muttered under my breath, loud enough for them to hear but not meant to spark a conversation.
Felix fell into step beside me as I strode towards the door, my pulse quickening with the anger I was trying—and failing—to keep in check.
Outside the poker room, Felix finally spoke up, his voice low. "You sure about this, Liam?"
I stopped in my tracks, turning to face him. "We've been sitting there like idiots, waiting for some woman who thinks she's too important to show up. I don't care who she is. No one makes me wait like that."
LIAMAs soon as I left Felix, my irritation still pulsing beneath the surface, I gave him a clear directive: "Dig into this 'Queen of the West.' I want to know everything by morning."This day kept getting better and better, with more mysterious women throwing themselves in my path.This Queen of the West woman, whoever she was, sounded more like a joke and a waste of time, and I had a feeling the stunt she pulled back in the game room wouldn't be her last.I walked out of the casino, the glitzy lights doing nothing to calm the storm inside me. Once in the back of the car, I pulled out my phone and started making necessary calls. The night and my initial plans were already ruined. I needed to reshape my plans to gain new and bigger deals... more partnerships and expand my dealings far beyond the country. That was the aim when I first started to build my empire from the ground up.I decided to call the hotel contractor working on my newest hotel, which would open in a few weeks. The ma
MONIQUEIn my apartment, I leaned back against the plush cushions, thinking about the events of the day. Events that were so much more than all I'd done during my days in hiding put together. The weight of everything I'd set in motion hit me like unpacked luggage in my closet. Of course, it was overwhelming; I mean, I had only just found the man who took my family from me.Richardson was rummaging through my kitchen, maybe trying to fix us a drink. "How did they respond?" I asked as he joined me in the living room and handed me a cup of tea.He sank into the armchair across from me, his eyes steady. "The message landed just as expected. Most of them didn't know what to say. Liam, though... you saw him just before he left the casino. He had plenty on his mind, but he kept it bottled up. Didn't want to crack in front of everyone."A small smile tugged at my lips. "Good. That's what I wanted." I took a slow sip, feeling the tea's warmth seep through me. "Phase two, then." I tried to soft
LIAMThe moment I rounded the corner and saw her, my heart nearly stopped. It was...her. I had my men fucking combing the entire city for her without any luck. Of course, I wouldn't tell her how obsessed I'd been trying to track her down.But here she was, standing in my building, looking at me like she belonged.Jesus fucking Christ, she was more than I remembered—even more striking in the light of day, her presence pulling all the air from the room, just like she had done at the club the other night. I caught myself staring, my mind spinning at how the hell she ended up here, of all places. For a second, the shock must have shown on my face, but I quickly concealed it."You," I said, trying to keep my voice steady, though I couldn't quite hide the flicker of surprise.Her smile was slow, almost teasing, a knowing curve of her lips that did something to my mind and body. I couldn't tell if I was irritated or intrigued by this foreign disturbance from such a sinfully gorgeous woman. M
MONIQUEThe moment his words sank in, I felt like my body and mind were two people in the middle of an argument. Shock coursed through me, cold and sharp, but there was this unsettling heat that simmered beneath my skin, unwanted and uninvited. My mind screamed at me to push him away, to break the tension and tell him how disrespectful he was being, but my body—traitorous as it was—responded to his intensity in ways I hated to admit.I clenched my fists to steady myself, forcing my breath to even out. I couldn't let him know the effect he had on me. Plus, what was I expecting? Coming in here and giving him a strip show. I had acted on impulse.Whatever happened to my intelligent strategies?"What's your name?" he asked, his voice softer now but still laced with that dark edge. He was too close, too intense, and every fiber of me felt like it was being drawn into his orbit.I hesitated, my mind racing. If I told him my real name, the last name that would ring a bell in the back of his
MONIQUEI wasn't one to use my body to get what I wanted, or in this sense, I would call it 'female privilege.' But I had started to figure out that I could get Liam wrapped around my finger if I agreed to play his little cat-and-mouse game. He already made it clear that he wanted to make me his "sex plaything." But how would I be that and still keep close tabs on his business affairs? I was handed the easy route on a platter of gold.We were in the middle of a meeting with the hotel contractor and licensor, the two men seated opposite Liam's massive desk while I stood by his side, ready to pass him any documents that required his signature. Liam was listening intently, his expression as sharp as ever, but I could feel his attention slipping—more toward me than the men sitting across from him. I could tell he was fighting it, trying hard to keep his focus on the business at hand, but every time I bent down or leaned closer to hand him a pen or paper, his eyes dipped lower, following th
I got home from work, the tension of the day still clinging to me. I dropped my bag on the couch as I spoke on the phone with Richardson. I had to update him on my progress in gathering information about Liam. I told him everything I discovered about his new hotel. Richardson also had new and valuable information about one of my father's leading and old suppliers from South America.After my parents died, Don Antonio had laid everything out for me—the business partners, the suppliers, the clients. He showed me who my parents worked with and who they trusted. But after their deaths, those deals vanished almost overnight. Most of the partners backed out, too wary to keep working with a family whose power had crumbled and were suddenly killed.For five of the ten years I spent under the Don's guidance, I studied those old connections. I learned who my parents' true allies were. The Don tried to help me rebuild, to regain some of the partnerships my family had lost, but it was a hard stru
LIAMBy the time the day had finally slowed down, most of my employees had already filed out of the building. I glanced at the digital clock on my computer—just shy of ten PM. It had been one of those days, the kind where the hours bled into each other, swallowed by meetings, calls, and decisions.I'd sent Monique home at the usual closing time. I knew if I kept her around any longer, I wouldn't be able to resist. There was something about the way she walked around, all businesslike and professional, that drove me to the edge. The casual way she acted like she didn't feel the heat simmering between us only made it worse. If she stayed past office hours, I knew how it would end—with her bent over my desk, that red dress hiked up, and all semblance of professionalism shattered.I wasn't ready to play that card just yet. I was still trying to figure her out—what made her tick, what she wanted, why she was really here. But one thing was certain: keeping her close was part of the plan. She
The rush of satisfaction as I watched Liam's jaw tighten felt good. His eyes flickered with a mix of frustration and desire. The way he looked at me like he was on the verge of losing control, made the teasing game I'd started all the more enjoyable. It was dangerous, I knew, but there was something thrilling about keeping him right at the edge, never quite letting him have what he clearly wanted.I had to bite back a smile when he leaned in, just close enough that I could feel his breath against my lips. His eyes darkened, and I knew he was about to kiss me—about to break that final barrier between us. But before he could, I glanced down at my tablet, lifting it between us like a shield."Oh, it's an alert from Mr. Romano, your accountant," I said, feigning innocence as I stepped back, glancing at the notification.Liam cursed under his breath, eyes narrowing as his hand clenched into a fist at his side. I knew he hated the interruption—especially during this—but business came first,