Page 7 of Risking it All

“You were about to set one of my guests up to be kidnapped or worse. You’re lucky that you’re leaving with your life. Get out of my sight before I change my mind.”

“I promise it won’t happen again.”

“I know it won’t. You won’t be here. Chris, get this man out of my building.”

He looked up from tapping the keys on his phone before grabbing the valet up by his collar. Chris shoved him, stopping once he reached the door. When he opened the door, a couple of uniformed security officers were standing on the other side.

“Take him to his locker, and don’t let him out of your sight until you can’t see the taillights of his car anymore.”

“Got it.” One of them nodded.

Once they escorted him away, Chris closed the door behind him and walked over to me as I finally sat behind my desk.

“You think this is serious?”

“I’m pretty sure someone paying five thousand dollars to know where a senator parked her car isn’t just planning to ask for more streetlights.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“Increase outdoor patrol, have someone scan her car just in case something already got past us, and notify the front desk that there are going to be extra security measures in place until we know exactly what they were up to.”

“Got it.”

“And find that man,” I ordered.

“Already on it. He’s not a guest.”

“That doesn’t mean he can’t be found.”

“You’re right about that. They’re running a facial recognition scan. I should have something shortly.”

“Let me be the first to know.”

“Got you, boss.”

After he let himself out of my office, I looked over at the floor-to-ceiling, two-way mirror that showed the casino entrance. Although I worked in a high stress environment, I loved what I did. I would probably be up all night making sure Senator Carlisle and everyone else in the building were safe. People came to Cashville for luxury as well as safety. As long as I was here, it was on me to make sure the latter of those things was intact. It was my duty.

3

Zenia

I used to dream of getting married and moving the hell away from my family for good. It didn’t matter that I would still be tied to them. At least I wouldn’t have to live in my parents’ sterile estate full of spies and servants ready to rat out every false move we made at my father’s behest.

He was so obsessed with us maintaining our virtue because we were damn near his bargaining chips. No, I take that back. That was exactly what we were. If I had never known how true that was, the fact that he had handed me off to the highest bidder, willing to take me, was a clear indication that what I had always believed was absolutely true.

Living in a beautiful mansion was a dream come true for some. To me, Morgan Manor was too perfect. It was so pristine and polished that you were afraid to make a mess. The floor was literally so clean you could eat off it.

My mom prided herself on keeping a spotless home, even though she didn’t have to lift a finger to clean it. She stayed on top of the staff, making sure they provided white glove service around the clock. They were so terrified of my father that they moved through the place like they were scared to breathe too loud, let alone speak out of turn.

I had to give it to them. The place was immaculate. In a perfect world, I would have loved living in a castle like I was in a fairy tale. The problem was nothing there belonged to me, not even me, not even my life or future.

After work, I brought my wedding dress home. I hadn’t allowed my mom or my sisters to see it, so far. My mom finally got me to break down and try it on for her. She wanted to help me get excited about my upcoming nuptials, but I didn’t see how I could. She and my dad just happened to figure out how to work together. I couldn’t say that she was miserable with him, but that didn’t mean she was absolutely happy. She was content. I wanted more than contentment. I knew she understood that.

My dress was beautiful. I couldn’t say that enough. Emerson had perfectly captured my personality in the formfitting dress. It hugged my curvy, hourglass figure just right but was still tasteful enough to be elegant and sophisticated. Even a wedding dress couldn’t hide all this ass. Emerson told me not to even try. The six-foot train and thigh-high split made it dramatic and theatrical, much like me, but it was a bitch to drag along as I walked a hole in the bedroom floor wondering how the next few decades of my life would be. Maybe I could still have the fairy-tale life I dreamed of as a child. A knock at my door made me take a deep breath.

“Come in,” I said, sighing as I stopped in front of the full-length mirror.

My mom let herself in the room, clasping her hands together as a bright smile lifted her cheeks. At least someone was happy about this.