Page 1 of Maximus

CHAPTER 1

SIERRA

The Virago. Scene of decadence, aspiration, hope and devastation.

All around me is noise from the machines, crowds of people, and music. It’s an assault on my senses that I really need right now because my life is about to be torn apart.

“Sierra.” Carly’s voice is slurred, her eyes glassy and her hair disheveled. She attempts to stagger to her feet but drops back onto the purple cushions with a cute giggle.

“Oops. I may have had a tiny bit too much to drink.”

Adele frowns and catches my eye with an exaggerated eye roll. She has zero tolerance and is a one glass of wine per night girl. Her entire life operates on a strict regime, calculated to bring her success and maximum opportunity.

“Perhaps you should head back. I’ll settle the check.” I whisper as Carlyreaches for the empty bottle of the finest champagne.

Adele nods and fixes Carly with a stern, “Party’s ended princess. Your four poster bed and blissful oblivion awaits.”

“Spoilsport.”

Carly shakes her head in theatrical distress. “But we must celebrate. It’s the wedding tomorrow, and this is our final night of freedom.”

“Which is exactly why you need your beauty sleep, because when you walk down that aisle, you want admiring glances and not pitying ones.”

Adele sighs heavily and I stand and help grip Carly’s other arm and hoist her from her seat and as Adele links her arm firmly with our erratic friend’s, she says with a touch of concern. “Are you sure, Sierra? I mean, I could settle up if you like.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

My smile is bright, but inside I am dying a slow, painful death at the thought of tomorrow. No wonder Carly drank so much. Oblivion is probably the best possible state of mind to be in right now.

As they stagger away, I note the raised eyes following them and the nudges of a couple of women who are watching two suited men play blackjack.

I feel bad for my friend because she’s not usually this inebriated. None of us are—ever. We are what’s known as good girls most of the time. But not tonight. Not in Carly’s mind, anyway.

With a sigh, I gather my purse and raise my hand, and as the waiter heads my way, I brandish my credit card.

In two seconds flat, five hundred dollars is charged to my card and I don’t give it a second thought. It’s not as if I ever see the statement, anyway. I spend and forget—or is it that I spendtoforget?

The hotel is lavish and the fees are high. It’s what my family expects and sometimes I wish I could experience something less salubrious. Many would call me mad, and they would be right, but the way I live brings with it a certain kind of madness that I wouldn’t wish on my worst enemy.

The reception areais almost deserted and only one woman is working. She possesses an air of boredom that I share, and as our glances collide, she smiles wearily.

“Good evening, madam.”

“You’re working late.”

“It’s part of the job. I’m used to it.”

The phone rings and she smiles apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I should get this. It’s the penthouse.”

I half turn away and glance at my phone as she answers.

“Front desk. How may I help you?”

Her sharp intake of breath takes my attention and as I catch her expression, she appears horrified.

“It’s, well, um–”

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