The Runaway Asset: Betraying My Billionaire Father

Las Vegas Boulevard was a parking lot.

Elodie gripped the door handle of Sofia's car. The neon lights of the Strip reflected off the hood, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope of color. The bass from Sofia's stereo was vibrating in Elodie's chest, syncing with her anxious heartbeat.

Tourists crowded the sidewalks, stumbling with yard-long margaritas. It was a sensory overload.

Sofia was dancing in the driver's seat, oblivious to the gridlock.

Suddenly, a convoy of three black Cadillac Escalades swerved from the left lane, cutting them off.

Sofia slammed on the brakes. The seatbelt dug into Elodie's collarbone.

Assholes! Sofia screamed. She laid on the horn. Do you know who I am?

Sofia, stop, Elodie hissed. She looked at the SUVs. They were identical, polished to a mirror shine. They looked heavy. Official. Or criminal.

The convoy came to a halt at a red light right next to them.

The tinted window of the middle SUV rolled down halfway.

Elodie turned her head. She expected to see a celebrity. Or a drunk tourist.

Instead, she saw a man.

He was sitting in the back seat. He wore a black suit, sharp and tailored, with no tie. His collar was unbuttoned, revealing the tan skin of his throat.

He was looking at a tablet, his profile illuminated by the blue light of the screen. He seemed completely detached from the chaos of the Strip. He was an island of stillness in a sea of noise.

Then, he turned his head.

He didn't scan the crowd. He didn't look at Sofia screaming profanities.

His eyes locked directly onto Elodie's.

They were dark. Pitch black. And cold.

Elodie felt a physical jolt, like she had touched a live wire. He looked at her with a clinical, predatory indifference. He wasn't looking at a girl in a sequined dress. He was looking at a variable in an equation.

He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He just observed.

Elodie felt exposed, despite the metal door between them. She felt marked.

Sofia was still yelling.

The light turned green.

The man in the SUV didn't break eye contact until the car began to move. Then, the window rolled up smoothly, erasing him from view.

The convoy sped off, weaving through traffic with a precision that was terrifying.

Elodie let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her skin was prickling.

Who was that? Elodie asked. Her voice shook.

Sofia shrugged, merging back into the lane. Probably some Randall goon. They own this town.

Randall.

The name triggered a memory in Elodie's mind. A file on her father's desk. A connection to the casinos.

She looked at the red taillights disappearing into the distance.

Let's just get to the club, Elodie said. She rubbed her arms, trying to scrub away the feeling of those cold eyes on her skin.