Chapter 2: The Game Is On
Lily's POV
Two weeks.
Fourteen days since I last saw Damien.
He's not even showing up for family dinners now.
I'm sitting in the Black family mansion's dining room, staring at the empty chair across from me. My stepfather—Damien's dad—is at the head of the table. He's made his position on my pursuit of Damien pretty clear: if I can catch him, more power to me.
"Damien's working late again tonight." He's cutting into his steak, not looking up. "Company's hit some rough patches."
"What kind of rough patches?" I keep my voice casual, like I'm just making conversation.
"Suppliers backing out of contracts. Gaming license complaints." He lets out a long breath. "Someone's buying up all the properties around us too, driving up our operating costs."
My fingers tighten around my fork.
"Are the cops looking into it?"
"Sure. But everything looks clean on paper." He shakes his head. "Like someone planned it all out real carefully."
Because someone did.
I know.
I've spent the last two weeks digging.
I've used every connection I have at the casino, tracking down leads on each incident.
The supplier defaults—someone offered them better deals.
The license complaints—anonymous tips, but IP addresses can be traced.
The property acquisitions—routed through shell companies.
Every single thread leads back to the same place.
A private server.
Marcus's server.
"You seem distracted." My stepfather's watching me now.
"Just worried about Damien." Not a lie.
"He'll handle it." There's certainty in his voice. "He always does. Trust him like you used to."
But this time is different.
I get back to my apartment after dinner.
Twentieth floor. Luxury high-rise. One of the perks the casino threw my way.
I flip open my laptop and keep digging.
Marcus Stone.
Damien's college roommate. Business partner after graduation.
They split three years ago. Marcus started his own investment firm.
On the surface, it all looked friendly.
But now I'm seeing what's really there. Marcus has never been friendly. From the first time I met him, his eyes had this sticky quality that made my skin crawl. Only my idiot stepbrother still thinks he's the same guy from college.
I open the encrypted software and break into Marcus's email server.
Yeah, I know. Not exactly legal.
But Damien taught me when I was young—in Vegas, rules are made for smart people to work around.
The emails start loading.
Secret agreements with suppliers.
Contact info for people inside the Gaming Commission.
Real buyer information for the property deals.
All Marcus.
Every last bit of it.
My fingers hover over the keyboard.
I should call Damien right now.
Tell him everything.
My thumb's already on his number.
But I stop.
Two weeks ago flashes through my mind—Damien's exhausted face, the pain in his eyes when he pushed me away.
And the last ten years before that. All those times I laid it out for him.
"I love you, Damien."
"You're still a kid, Lily."
"I'm eighteen. I'm not a kid."
"You're my sister."
"I'm not!"
"Legally, you are."
Every single time, the same story.
Every single time, he runs.
And now...
If I hand him this information, he'll deal with Marcus.
Then what?
Back to normal.
He keeps treating me like his little sister.
Keeps hiring fake girlfriends.
Keeps running.
But what if...
What if I try something different?
I'm staring at Marcus's emails on the screen.
An idea starts forming.
Crazy idea.
Dangerous idea.
But maybe... an idea that actually works.
What if I pretend to accept Marcus's attention?
Let Damien see me with someone else.
Make him jealous.
Make him angry.
Make him finally cross that damn moral line he's drawn.
And while I'm at it, I can get close to Marcus.
Collect more evidence.
Set a trap.
Two birds, one stone.
A smile tugs at my mouth.
My phone buzzes.
Marcus.
Speak of the devil.
"Hello?"
"Lily, it's me." His voice is smooth. "Sorry to call so late. I was thinking... are you free for coffee tomorrow?"
I'm looking at his crimes laid out on my screen.
"Sure." I let my voice sound hesitant but interested. "What time?"
"Ten? That place you like, Bluebird Cafe?"
"Sounds good." I pause. "See you then."
I hang up and lean back in my chair.
The game is on.
I pour myself a drink.
Whiskey. The brand Damien loves.
He taught me how to drink when he was eighteen.
"Whiskey's like gambling, Lily." He'd said it while I sat in his office, ten years old and watching him work. "You've got to learn to taste it, learn to wait, learn when the moment's right to make your move."
"When will I be like you?"
"You'll be better than me." He'd ruffled my hair. "You're sharper. More talented."
"Really?"
"Really." He'd smiled—that real, warm smile. "But remember, the smartest gamblers know when to walk away."
I take a sip of the whiskey.
Sorry, Damien.
This time I'm not walking away.
I grab my phone and text my assistant.
"Need you to dig up Marcus Stone's schedule for the next few weeks. Also, put together some outfits. I'll be seeing him regularly starting tomorrow. Something... memorable."
She replies in seconds. "Got it. Should I arrange a photographer?"
Smart girl.
"No need. The media will take care of that themselves."
I look at Damien's number again.
Imagining his face when he sees photos of me with Marcus.
Will he be angry?
Jealous?
Or will he keep pretending he doesn't care?
"Guess we'll find out." I say it to the empty room.
I download all of Marcus's incriminating evidence and store it in an encrypted file.
Then I shut the laptop.
Starting tomorrow, I'm going hunting.
And I've got two targets.
I walk to the window, looking out at the neon lights blazing across the city.
"Damien." I say it to the night. "Hope you're ready."
"Because this time, you're not getting away."
