Page 44 of Turmoil's Target

I shake my head, trying to dislodge the dangerous train of thought.

I can’t be hung up on Turmoil like some lovesick girl.

Not when I have a mission, a purpose for being in Vegas that goes way beyond amazing sex with a hot guy.

I’m seeking revenge for my father.

I’m getting justice for my family.

That has to come first.

Sighing, I turn away from the window, the red soles of my Louboutins clicking on the Italian marble floors as I head to the kitchen to pour a much needed glass of Merlot.

I need to get my head on straight, focus on the end game.

Even if my treacherous heart keeps wandering back to a certain muscular, tattoo-covered man with a smile that could melt ice.

Feelings are a luxury I can’t afford right now, I remind myself firmly, sipping the rich red wine.

Not when we’re getting so close to taking down the club that killed my father.

Abe is just a temporary distraction, a bit of fun. He has to be.

So why does the memory of his words still make my chest ache?

Groaning, I drain the rest of my wine in one long swallow.

My phone chimes as I’m walking into the Bellagio casino to meet my mother, and I pull it out of my Chanel handbag to see a text from Abe.

Hey gorgeous. Feel like hitting the club tonight? I could use a dance partner.

A smile tugs at my lips.

Maybe a night out is exactly what I need to take my mind off all of the stressful shit whirling around in my mind.

I type back, then slip the phone away as I enter the lavish lobby.

Sounds perfect. Meet you there at 10.

Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the plush carpets and gleaming marble as I navigate through the casino floor, heading for the private lounge where my mother awaits.

Excitement and nerves riot in my stomach, battling for dominance.

The host grants me entry with a polite nod, and I step inside the opulent room.

My mother rises from a leather armchair, impeccably coiffed and dressed as always in her signature Chanel suit.

“Seraphina, darling. Prompt as ever.” She air kisses my cheeks. “I trust you have good news for me?”

“Of course, Mother.” I settle into the chair across from her as a waiter materializes with flutes of champagne and a plate of gourmet finger sandwiches.

Clearing my throat, I tell her what I’ve discovered. “I’ve been working my contacts at the city zoning office. They’re ready to crack down hard on all the code violations at the MC’s makeshift trailer park. Fines, legal action, the works. It should be another way to bleed them dry financially.”

“Excellent.” My mother’s smile is cold and sharp as a blade. “Hit them where it hurts—their wallet. How soon do you think this will start?”

“Within the week,” I reply, feeling a strange mix of satisfaction and unease. “The city’s eager to clean up their image, and the Reapers Rejects MC is a stain they’re keen to erase. My contacts have told me public officials believe they’re partially to blame for the crime rate increase.”

“Fantastic, darling.” Her voice drips with victory as she lifts her glass in toast. “Here’s to our revenge.”

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