Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 21882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 21882 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 109(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 73(@300wpm)
My heart breaks again and tears come to my eyes. With a heavy lump in my throat, I help my mom up the stairs and into bed before softly shutting the door to her bedroom. But despite my grief, my heart’s pumping with rage, fear, and injustice because I’m not going to let Le Palms use her like this. I’m going to confront Cameron Savage face-t0-face so that he sees the destruction he’s wreaked, and then I’m going to destroy him so that he gets a taste of his own medicine.
2
Cameron
It’s a boring night tonight, which is saying something when you’re the owner of Le Palms. After all, my hotel is the glitziest, most glamorous casino on the Strip. If you want to sample the finest wines, come to my restaurants. If you want to take in the finest artwork, then enjoy our private museum. If you want the best rooms, the best card games, and the most outrageous nightclubs, then Le Palms is your place. So it’s pretty crazy that I’m bored amidst it all.
But it makes sense on some level. I founded Le Palms twenty years ago when I was a young upstart without a cent to my name. I’d just graduated from hotel school, and had a raging hunger to be successful but only a sliver of an idea how to do it. As a result, after scraping some cash from friends and family, I purchased a small run-down casino that had dollar beers and fifty cent shots. It was that low rent.
But over the next couple years, I transformed the place into something different. I started upping the ante of everything I touched, from the food and drink, to the slot machines. I put in a nightly revue featuring beautiful showgirls, and then hired an MC who could draw the crowd. Within ten years, we’d moved to a different location and were hosting Vegas residencies by the likes of Celine Dion and Britney Spears. Money was being made hand over fist, to say the least.
But money gets old. You can’t eat money, you can’t drink money, and you can’t fuck money. As a result, I’m up to my ears in cash, but I don’t care about it anymore. It certainly doesn’t care about me. When I’m in my grave, my bank accounts aren’t going to cry, and my dollar bills won’t hold a funeral to commemorate my passing.
But it is what it is. I have a lot of it, and people kowtow to me as a result. Everyone calls me Mr. Savage or Sir, and most people maintain a deferential air at all times. It’s always “Yes Mr. Savage” or “Yes Sir, whatever you like.” It suits me okay. I don’t love being surrounded by yes men, but when you have as much as I do, it’s hard to find someone who will give it to you straight.
Sighing, I lean back in my office chair and look out over Le Savage, our nightclub. My office is situated on the second floor so that I can look down on the dance floor, and it’s always an interesting sight. They have the black lights going tonight, and the crowd is bathed in an unearthly pale blue glow as bodies mash together in a pulsing heap. I can see couples making out while others break apart, only to come back together. I can even see the fronds of a plant over to the left shaking wildly, and I’d bet a million dollars that people are having fun there tonight.
But this is what Le Savage is about. People come to Vegas to forget their cares, and what happens here, stays here. Let them spend their money and live wild dreams; after all, that’s what I seek to provide. I just wish I had someone special amidst it all. But all work and no play has made Cameron Savage a very boring, if wealthy, man, and no women have caught my eye in quite a while now.
Suddenly, a sharp rap sounds on the door. I glance at my watch. It’s about four a.m. and most of my staff has left. There’s probably a bodyguard around, and god knows what he or she wants.
I call out, “Come,” and the door swings open. But standing there is neither a burly man nor an assistant of any type. Instead, a beautiful girl is framed in the doorway with blonde hair of spun gold, and a curvy figure that makes my mouth water. Unfortunately, the pocket Venus looks as mad as a hornet, and my heart begins pounding with anticipation. What does she want? There’s only one way to find out.
3
Maddy
This is a hare-brained idea, for sure, but I was so upset about my mom’s impromptu dismissal that I had to do something. As a result, after Grace fell asleep, I quickly changed and then jumped into my Jetta and raced straight to Le Palms. I wasn’t even sure what I was going to do. Complain to customer service? File a complaint with Human Resources? Who knows?