Chapter 7 - The Queen’s Inspection
The Diamond Palace Casino was buzzing with morning gamblers, tourists, and high rollers when our private elevator opened directly onto the VIP gaming floor. Julian walked beside me, his hand resting securely on the small of my back, while our security detail melted seamlessly into the crowd. Marcus followed close behind, carrying the newly minted corporate charter.
As we walked across the polished marble floor beneath massive crystal chandeliers, whispers immediately rippled through the pit bosses and casino managers. Word had spread overnight across the Vegas underworld: the mysterious new majority owners of the conglomerate were on-site.
General Manager Arthur Vance—no relation to Julian, but a longtime loyalist who had managed the casino’s books before Dante’s corrupt regime took over—hurried out from his glass-walled office, wiping sweat from his forehead.
“Mr. Vance! Mrs. Vance! Welcome,” Arthur stammered, bowing slightly as he shook our hands. “We weren’t expecting you on the casino floor so soon.”
“We’re just taking a look around, Arthur,” I said, my voice carrying a cool, commanding authority that made the veteran manager stand up a little straighter. “How is the transition of power going?”
“Flawless, ma'am,” Arthur replied eagerly. “Federal auditors are finishing up in the accounting offices, and all illicit operations introduced during the Moretti administration have been permanently shut down. The casino is operating entirely above board, and our revenue projections for the next quarter are already up thirty percent.”
I nodded, surveying the bustling gaming tables. This was the empire Dante had fought so ruthlessly to control—the very empire he had risked his marriage, his reputation, and his soul to build. And now, through simple strategy, patience, and absolute resolve, it belonged to me.
Suddenly, a commotion broke out near the high-stakes baccarat tables.
A familiar, frantic voice cut through the casino noise.
“Let me through! I need to speak to Claire! Claire, I know you’re here!”
I turned my head calmly. Pushing past two security guards was Dante Moretti himself. He looked unkempt, his designer suit wrinkled, his hair messy, and his eyes bloodshot with desperation. He had managed to slip past the ground-floor security in a frantic bid for one last confrontation.
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“Claire!” Dante shouted, ignoring the staring tourists as he stumbled toward us. “You can’t do this! You’re destroying my life! We can make a deal! Just give me back the casino shares, and I’ll leave Vegas forever!”
Julian stepped smoothly in front of me, his tall frame blocking Dante completely. Before Dante could lunge forward, our security detail moved in with chilling precision, forcing Dante to his knees on the very casino floor where he once ruled as king.
