Page 41 of My Billionaire Casino Boss

Christina nods, but I catch her exchanging a worried glance with Mom. I know they’re only concerned about me and want to know how I’m handling the breakup—or whatever it was. But right now, I just want to focus on the future, on the exciting new chapter ahead of me.

We spend the rest of the day shopping, filling bags with new clothes and shoes. By the time we leave the mall, I’m exhausted but happy. The new clothes are a tangible reminder of the fresh start that’s waiting for me, a symbol of the change I’m about to embrace.

As we drive home, I lean my head against the window, watching the city lights blur past. I think about my new job, about the challenges and opportunities that await me.

The morning of my first day at the new job, I wake up early, nerves buzzing under my skin. I dress carefully in one of the new outfits we bought, a sleek black blazer over a crisp ivory blouse, paired with a stylish pencil skirt. I take a moment to look at myself in the mirror, taking in the professional image I present. At least I look the part.

When I arrive at the office, I’m greeted by a woman named Marcy, who’s been assigned to show me around. She’s tall and thin, with sharp features and a bored expression. She gives me a cursory tour of the office, her tone monotonous as she points out the break room, the restrooms, and my new workspace.

My desk is small and cramped, tucked away in a corner of the office. I try to hide my disappointment as I set down my bag and take a seat. Marcy gives me a stack of paperwork to fill out, then leaves me to it without another word.

The rest of the day is a blur of tedious tasks. I spend hours filling out forms, familiarizing myself with company policies, and setting up my work email. It’s not the most exciting design work but I remind myself I’m starting from the bottom.

My new boss, a stern woman named Selena, doesn’t make things any easier. She’s unnecessarily rude, snapping at me for minor mistakes and making me feel like an inconvenience. I try to keep my head down and do my work, but it’s hard not to feel disheartened. I’m a little bewildered about the difference in attitude between the HR manager I had my interview with and the woman I’m working with today.

When Selena approaches my workstation around eleven, I’m momentarily hopeful.

“I need you to take care of something for me,” she says. I nod eagerly. “I need a vanilla latte, extra syrup, no whip. You can expense it in the system when you get back.”

I try not to let my face fall. I don’t want to be the one who gets coffee for the boss.You just need to put in your dues and prove you can take direction.I tell myself.That’s all it is.My internal cheerleader isn’t doing much to boost my mood, though.

By the time my lunch hour rolls around, I’m feeling simultaneously underwhelmed and overwhelmed. Selena and Marcy have given me plenty to do, but the tasks are so varied, and I know so little about the work the firm does. I’m pretty lost. Lunch is a welcome break. I eat alone, sitting out back on the curb, missing the camaraderie and playful atmosphere of the casino. Even at the end, when half the staff was whispering about me, I always had someone to eat with. I can’t help but compare this cold, impersonal office to the vibrant energy of the resort. I miss the excitement, the unpredictability, the sense of belonging.

But I didn’t really belong, did I? It was all just a game to Thomas.

The afternoon drags on, filled with more paperwork and a few menial tasks that Selena assigns me. So far, I haven’t even needed to wake up my computer for anything except administrative formalities. I think—okay, Ihope—I’m being tested—she’s trying to see how much I can handle. Trying to test how obedient I can be. I grit my teeth and get through it, determined not to let her see me falter.

By the time I leave the office, the sun has already set, and I’m exhausted. I drive home in a daze, my mind spinning with everything I’ve been told and everything I still need to learn. I can’t shake off the feeling of disappointment, the sinking realization that this job might not be what I was hoping for.

I go to bed that night feeling drained but determined. Tomorrow is another day, another chance to prove myself. I just hope my next assignments involve fewer trips to the coffee shop down the block.

twenty-three

Fallout Of Deception - Thomas

Thefalloutfromtheexposure of my fake relationship with Lily is immediate and brutal. The news spreads like wildfire, and within hours, it feels like everyone in Tahoe knows. I can see it in the way my employees look at me, their eyes wide and wary, their voices hushed. They’re walking on eggshells around me, and I can’t blame them. I’ve become the center of a scandal, the subject of whispers and rumors.

My phone buzzes incessantly with calls and messages, most of them from reporters looking for a statement. Local newspapers, business blogs, and even a few national outlets all want a piece of the story. I refuse to give them the satisfaction. I refuse to add fuel to the fire. I’ve made enough mistakes; I won’t make another by airing my dirty laundry in public.

I try to focus on my work, to lose myself in the familiar routine of running the casino. It’s impossible to concentrate when I can feel the weight of everyone’s stares, and I can hear the whispers that follow me wherever I go. I’ve always been a subject of interest, the wealthy casino owner with a penchant for privacy. But this is different. This is personal.

I retreat to my office, closing the door on the curious glances and hushed conversations. I sink into my chair, running a hand through my hair as I stare at the cityscape outside my window. The lights of Tahoe glitter in the darkness as turmoil churns inside me.

I think about Lily, about the hurt I’ve caused her. I think about the way she looked at me the last time I saw her, her eyes filled with disappointment and betrayal. It’s a look I’ll never forget, a look that haunts me every time I close my eyes.

I’ve messed up, and I know it. I let my pride get in the way, and my anger cloud my judgment. I hurt Lily, the one person who saw through my facade, who saw me for who I really am. My reason for hurting her was shallow: a moment of petty revenge, and a chance to soothe my bruised ego.

I feel a pang of regret, a sharp stab of guilt. I’ve made a lot of mistakes in my life but hurting Lily…that’s one I can’t forgive myself for. I’ve lost her trust, maybe even her respect. And the worst part is, I have no one to blame but myself. I lean back in my chair, closing my eyes as I let out a long, weary sigh. I’ve made a mess of things, and I don’t know if I can fix it.

I pick up my phone, scrolling through the endless list of missed calls and messages. I ignore the reporters, the curious onlookers, and the people looking to capitalize on my downfall. Instead, I find Lily’s number, her name painful to even look at.

I hover over the call button, my heart pounding in my chest. I don’t know what I’m going to say, or if she’ll even answer. Taking a deep breath, I press the call button. The phone rings once, twice, and I deflate with every additional trill. Before the voicemail can pick up, I end the call and dial Eric’s number instead.

I drain my third whiskey and signal the bartender for another. The atmosphere in the bar is heavy with the scent of stale beer and the low hum of conversation. “You sure you want another one?” Eric asks beside me. I shoot him a glare. He’s barely touched his first drink. I didn’t plan to drink much tonight—I just wanted to be anywhere besides the suffocating silence of my house—but the buzz from my first glass felt so good that I kept going.

I can tell Eric is worried about me, but he’s giving me the quiet companionship I need. I appreciate it, even if I don’t say it out loud.

We sit in silence for a while, the noise of the bar washing over us. I’m lost in my thoughts. I can’t stop replaying the last conversation I had with Lily. The hurt in her voice, the disappointment…it’s a constant reminder of my failure.

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