Page 62 of When Hearts Ignite

I muster my lips into a smile, watching as Camille strides toward me in a fetching red dress made of the finest silk. She throws her platinum blonde hair over her shoulders before pulling me into a hug.

“I know this is not fun for you. Have you thought about talking to Elias? He’s not unreasonable. Maybe he’ll let you out of the situation. He doesn’t make girls work here against their will. And he likes you and trusts you.” While Sofia was the one who wrote the check, the money actually came from her brother, Elias’s pocketbook.

I shake my head. Part of me doesn’t want to deal with my enigmatic boss. The fewer interactions I have with him, the greater the chance I can escape this without further complications.

Everyone in the city knows about Elias Kent. He is the mysterious criminal underboss who stays in the shadows but wields his dark influence ruthlessly, making his enemies disappear left and right. The local gangs in our neighborhood are terrified of him and these thugs are the very definition of dangerous animals.

After I joined The Orchid, I learned Sofia is his sister, and Elias provides The Orchid with the candidates and security for the men and women working on the Rose floors. The more I’m embroiled in his shady businesses, the less likely he’ll let me go. And as is, I’m already doing some financial work for him on the side to speed up the debt repayment.

I’ve even hired a private investigator to find the identity of my father, the only parent I have left in this world if he’s still alive. I cringe as a pinch of guilt makes an appearance. Mom would hate it if she knew I’m searching for him.

But don’t I have a right to know?

There’s only Taylor and me left in the world now, and if Mom’s death has taught me anything, life is fleeting, and I wouldn’t want to carry this regret with me when I leave this world.

“Ladies, ready?” A deep, rumbling voice speaks from behind us. I take a deep breath, steeling myself for the person I’ll see when I turn around.

Elias.

He’s leaning against the doorframe, dressed in all black, just like his soul, his fingers playing with an antique lighter I’ve seen him toy with whenever he makes the occasional appearance at The Orchid. The odd thing is the man doesn’t even smoke.

His piercing green eyes meet mine, but unlike most men in this establishment, they don’t stray from my face. “I don’t need to remind you this event is important to the Andersons and myself. I’m running all the games tonight. So, you know what to do. Don’t disappoint.”

Elias steps into the light, drawing our gazes to the sharp scar slicing across his left cheek all the way to the temples. It’s almost a shame how the cut adds rugged appeal to his otherwise handsome face.

“And Genevieve, thank you for the analysis of my investments. It’s better than the ones my banker put together. I’ve said this before, and I’ll say it again. If you don’t want to dance, all you need to do is ask. There’s a spot in my finance department with your name on it.”

I swallow and dole out a terse nod. “I’m fine here.”

Without changing his expression, he returns my nod with a brief dip of his head and stalks away.

I sense the weight of Camille’s stare at the back of my neck. “Camille, he’d never let me go if I enter the belly of the beast and see whatever details are in the little black book of his.”

Camille links arms with me as we walk toward the elevators. “Well then, you have one more year to go, and I’ll be here with you every step of the way. I say let’s go get buzzed with some top-shelf alcohol and duck or goose liver or whatever fancy crap they have downstairs.”

My heart pinches.

“Ew. Do you know how they make foie gras? They fatten up a duck or a goose just so they can harvest the liver. It’s barbaric! That’s why they banned it in the city for a few years.”

Steven arches a sardonic brow. “You and your bleeding heart. Why don’t you become vegan then? They do the same things to chickens.”

That day at Central Park was one of the best days of my life.

Steven, I miss you.

Lotus, one of the four ballrooms in the building, is buzzing with people when Camille and I make our appearance.

Most of the rooms in this building are named after flowers. Along with the name of the establishment, The Orchid, and its parent company, Fleur Entertainment, I guess the Andersons must really love flowers. In the past, I would be curious enough to pull up the search engine in my phone and immerse myself in research, not resting until I find out the reasons or history behind this.

But it’s as if the innate curiosity I used to have has disappeared in the last nine months. And I don’t find any reason to care anymore.

Still, it’s impossible not to be awed by this palatial room, with its towering ceilings and stained-glass windows depicting the delicate lotus flower, with its white petals unblemished, floating in the waters. Lamplight from the outside filters through the windows, cascading the illusion of crystalline waters dotted with swaths of pink and white to the floors. Floor-to-ceiling gilded mirrors adorn the walls, much like what I’d imagine I’d see if I ever get to visit the palaces in France.

The mahogany floors, laid in a herringbone pattern, are clean, and shine under the spotlights dotting the ceilings. Tall, round tables are interspersed throughout the room, with towering glass vases filled with peonies of every color on the surface, its sweet scent lingering in the air.

Next to the floral arrangements are longer tables with the classic green velvet covering—blackjack, poker, roulette, and craps—the theme tonight, Monte Carlo in Spring suddenly makes sense.

Clusters of well-dressed people gather around the tables, men in pristine suits and women in beautiful gowns focus on the cards in front of them, small crowds cheering as a gorgeous woman in a champagne dress blows on a pair of dice before her partner, a man who’s clearly already had too much to drink, tosses them onto the table.

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