Page 36 of My Billionaire Casino Boss

For a moment, I think she’s going to rip up the check. She pinches it between her fingers with both hands, but then, to my surprise and relief, she pockets it.

“Fine,” she says, turning away from me. She doesn’t look back, but I hear her mutter, “Jerk.”

I nod, agreeing with her assessment. I know I’ve made a mess of things, and it’s going to take a lot to fix. All I can do for now is try to limit the damage I’ve caused.

When I get home, I pour myself a glass of scotch and pull up Lily’s number on my phone. The moment I hear her voice on the other end of the line, I realize how difficult fixing this will be. Her words are sharp, cutting through me like a knife. She’s seen the blog posts and the pictures of Hillary and me. She knows what I did and she’s not holding back.

“I saw a picture of you on Twitter,” she begins, her voice icy. “You and Hillary, out at a fancy restaurant, looking like…like—”

“Like we’re together?” I finish for her, my voice bitter. I can’t help it. Her words, her disappointment, stings.

“Yes,” she snaps. “Exactly like that. I can’t believe you, Thomas. I thought…I thought we were…I don’t know what I thought.”

Her words hang in the air between us, heavy with unspoken feelings and regrets. I want to apologize and tell her that I didn’t mean for things to turn out this way. Yet, I can’t stand her disappointment and disgust toward me. It’s too much. It hardens something inside me and makes me want to lash out.

“You know what, Lily?” I say, my voice cold. “I’m not doing this. I didn’t call you to apologize. I called to tell you that our deal is off.”

There’s a pause on the other end of the line, a moment of stunned silence. “What?” she finally manages to choke out.

“You heard me,” I continue. “The deal is off. I’m having you switched to night shifts. That way, our paths won’t cross.”

“But—” she starts, but I hang up before she can say anything else—before I can hear the hurt in her voice. I sit there, the phone still in my hand, while I feel a pang of regret. It’s too late now.

After hanging up the phone, I feel a sudden emptiness in my chest. The silence in the room is deafening, the echo of Lily’s hurt words still ringing in my ears. I need a moment, a moment to breathe and to think. I head to my office, the sanctuary where I’ve made countless decisions and dealt with endless problems. But this.…this is a problem I can’t solve with a simple business strategy.

I pour myself another drink, the amber liquid glinting in the dim light. The clink of the ice against the glass is a harsh reminder of the cold reality I’ve created. I take a seat by the window, the city lights sprawling out before me, each one a beacon of life, stories raveling and unraveling, just like ours.

The office is quiet—the only sound is the occasional murmur of the casino below. I take a sip of my drink, the burn of the alcohol doing little to numb the guilt gnawing at me. I’ve hurt Lily and pushed her away when all I wanted was to pull her closer. And for what? To protect my pride? To avoid facing my feelings?

The low hum of my phone vibrating against the polished surface of my desk breaks the silence of the office. I glance at the caller ID, recognizing the name of a high-profile client who’s been interested in booking our conference center for an upcoming event. I take a deep breath, mentally preparing myself to switch into business mode and answer the call.

“Thomas,” the client greets me, his voice filled with a joviality that feels foreign to me in my current state. “How’s the engagement going?”

I stiffen in my chair and clear my throat, my grip tightening on the phone. “It’s going,” I manage to reply, keeping my voice as neutral as possible. I steer the conversation back to business, discussing dates and security details, but my mind is elsewhere.

My thoughts keep circling back to Lily, to the hurt in her voice on the other side of the phone, when I told her our deal was off, to the way she looked wearing my ring. The image is seared into my mind. I’ve thrown everything away in a moment of anger and pride. When the call finally ends, I set my phone down on the desk, my hand shaking slightly. The silence of the office suddenly feels oppressive.

I sit there in the dark, staring out at the city lights twinkling, and I know one thing for sure. I need to try. I owe it to Lily to try and make things right, to try and salvage whatever is left of our relationship. And maybe, just maybe, I owe it to myself, too. I have to see if the connection we had, all those feelings, could be something real. Something worth fighting for.

twenty

Down For The Count - Lily

Thehouseisquiet—tooquiet. It’s been days since Thomas and I had our fight, and I’ve been moping around, unable to shake off the heavy cloud of despair that hangs over me.

I wander from room to room, my mind filled with thoughts of Thomas. I replay our last conversation over and over in my head, each word a sharp stab of pain. I wish things had gone differently. I wish I could turn back time and fix everything. I know wishes are just that—wishes. They’re not real, and they can’t change the past.

I find myself in the living room, staring at the couch where Thomas and I had shared so many moments. I can still remember the way he looked at me, the way he made me feel. It’s hard to reconcile that Thomas could also hurt me so deeply.

I sink onto the couch, my heart heavy in my chest. I wish I could just forget about him, forget about everything that happened. I can’t because everything reminds me of him. It’s absurd—he’s barely spent any time here, but it doesn’t matter. My life feels divided into Before Thomas and After Thomas, and everything from before feels ruined. I’m ashamed that I’m this screwed up over something that was an illusion from the start. Somehow, it didn’tfeelthat way.

I let out a shaky breath, wiping away the tears that have started to fall. I need to pull myself together. I need to move on. With a sigh, I pick up my phone, dialing the one person who can always make me feel better. “Mom,” I say, my voice breaking on the word. “I need to talk.”

I pour out everything, the words tumbling from my lips in a rush. I tell her about the deception, about the deal with Thomas, about how it all spiraled out of control. I tell her about the fight, about how Thomas took Hillary out to spite me, about how he ended our deal and left me with nothing.

And then, I confess the one thing I’ve been too afraid to admit, even to myself. “I think…I think I’ve fallen in love with him, Mom,” I whisper, the words heavy with emotion. “Despite everything, despite the lies and the deception…I love him.”

I pull out the engagement ring Thomas gave me, the beautiful black diamond catching the light. Just to torture myself, I slip it on my left hand and admire how it sparkles on my finger. This ring, this symbol of our deception, also reminds me of the hope I was starting to have. A future that now seems impossible.

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