The kitchen was quiet, save for the hum of the oversized refrigerator. Elodie sat at the island, wrapping her hands around a mug of herbal tea Inez had forced on her.

Inez leaned against the counter, her arms crossed over her chest. She had taken off the sunglasses, revealing eyes that were too sharp, too knowing.

You did not just run from a wedding, Inez said. You ran to something.

Elodie took a sip of the tea. It tasted like sage and dirt.

I do not know what you mean.

Inez reached behind her and slapped a tabloid magazine onto the counter. The headline screamed about the delay in the Jimenez-Clay merger.

Your father called me, Inez said.

Elodie's heart hammered against her ribs. She stood up, the chair scraping loudly against the tile.

I have to go.

Sit down, Inez ordered. Her voice was not loud, but it carried the weight of authority. I did not answer him.

Elodie sank back into the chair. Her hands were shaking again.

Why? Elodie asked.

Because I hate him, Inez said simply. And because I need a favor.

Elodie stared at her aunt. A favor?

Sofia is out of control, Inez said, gesturing toward the living room where Sofia was shouting into her phone. She is mixing with the wrong crowd. Dangerous people. I cannot watch her twenty-four seven.

Inez leaned forward.

You keep Sofia out of jail. You keep her away from the sharks. And I will help you lie to Hazen.

Elodie weighed the options. If she left, Hazen would find her in hours. If she stayed, she had a base of operations to find Joshuah.

What is the lie? Elodie asked.

Hawaii, Inez said. A pre-wedding detox trip. No phones. Total isolation. It buys you a week. Maybe two.

Elodie nodded slowly. It could work.

And Alden? Inez asked softly.

Elodie looked at the dark liquid in her mug. He is not part of this.

Honey, Inez sighed. You look at that man like he is water in a drought. But fine. Have it your way.

Deal, Elodie said.

Suddenly, the kitchen door banged open. Sofia burst in, a whirlwind of energy.

We are going to OMNIA, Sofia announced. Now.

Elodie looked down at her jeans. I am not dressed for a club.

Sofia grabbed her hand, pulling her off the stool.

My closet. Let's go.

The next hour was a blur of fabric and hairspray. Sofia treated Elodie like a Barbie doll. She stripped her out of the safe, boring clothes and forced her into a dress that was terrifying.

It was black, covered in sequins that caught the light like oil on water. It had a plunging neckline and a slit that went up to her thigh.

Elodie looked in the mirror. She didn't recognize herself. The girl in the mirror looked dangerous. She looked like she belonged in Vegas.

She felt a strange sense of armor settling over her. If she looked like this, maybe she wouldn't feel like the scared girl on the balcony.

Sofia clapped her hands. Perfect. Now you look like a Jimenez.

They headed out to the garage. Elodie paused to send one last text on the burner phone, this time to Kade's personal number, hoping it would buy the alibi.

I am in Hawaii. Need space. Do not call.

She turned the phone off and tossed it into her clutch.

Sofia revved the engine of the neon sports car. The sound echoed in the garage like a gunshot.

Welcome to the jungle, cousin, Sofia yelled over the engine.

Las Vegas Boulevard was a parking lot.

Elodie gripped the door handle of Sofia's car. The neon lights of the Strip reflected off the hood, creating a dizzying kaleidoscope of color. The bass from Sofia's stereo was vibrating in Elodie's chest, syncing with her anxious heartbeat.

Tourists crowded the sidewalks, stumbling with yard-long margaritas. It was a sensory overload.

Sofia was dancing in the driver's seat, oblivious to the gridlock.

Suddenly, a convoy of three black Cadillac Escalades swerved from the left lane, cutting them off.

Sofia slammed on the brakes. The seatbelt dug into Elodie's collarbone.

Assholes! Sofia screamed. She laid on the horn. Do you know who I am?

Sofia, stop, Elodie hissed. She looked at the SUVs. They were identical, polished to a mirror shine. They looked heavy. Official. Or criminal.

The convoy came to a halt at a red light right next to them.

The tinted window of the middle SUV rolled down halfway.

Elodie turned her head. She expected to see a celebrity. Or a drunk tourist.

Instead, she saw a man.

He was sitting in the back seat. He wore a black suit, sharp and tailored, with no tie. His collar was unbuttoned, revealing the tan skin of his throat.

He was looking at a tablet, his profile illuminated by the blue light of the screen. He seemed completely detached from the chaos of the Strip. He was an island of stillness in a sea of noise.

Then, he turned his head.

He didn't scan the crowd. He didn't look at Sofia screaming profanities.

His eyes locked directly onto Elodie's.

They were dark. Pitch black. And cold.

Elodie felt a physical jolt, like she had touched a live wire. He looked at her with a clinical, predatory indifference. He wasn't looking at a girl in a sequined dress. He was looking at a variable in an equation.

He didn't smile. He didn't frown. He just observed.

Elodie felt exposed, despite the metal door between them. She felt marked.

Sofia was still yelling.

The light turned green.

The man in the SUV didn't break eye contact until the car began to move. Then, the window rolled up smoothly, erasing him from view.

The convoy sped off, weaving through traffic with a precision that was terrifying.

Elodie let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her skin was prickling.

Who was that? Elodie asked. Her voice shook.

Sofia shrugged, merging back into the lane. Probably some Randall goon. They own this town.

Randall.

The name triggered a memory in Elodie's mind. A file on her father's desk. A connection to the casinos.

She looked at the red taillights disappearing into the distance.

Let's just get to the club, Elodie said. She rubbed her arms, trying to scrub away the feeling of those cold eyes on her skin.

The line for OMNIA wrapped around the block, a snake of desperate people hoping for a taste of the high life.

Sofia didn't wait. She marched to the front, grabbed the bouncer's arm, and slipped a folded bill into his hand.

VIP list. Franco, Sofia said. She didn't ask. She stated.

The bouncer, a mountain of muscle, nodded and unhooked the velvet rope.

Elodie followed her cousin, keeping her head down. She felt the eyes of the people in line burning into her back.

Inside, the club was a different world. A massive chandelier, like a kinetic spaceship, descended from the ceiling, pulsing with light. The music was deafening. It hit Elodie in the chest, replacing her heartbeat with a synthetic rhythm.

They made their way to a private booth overlooking the main dance floor. A waiter appeared instantly with a bottle of Grey Goose and sparklers.

Sofia was on the couch dancing before the waiter had even set the bottle down.

Elodie poured herself a drink. She needed the burn. She scanned the room, a habit she couldn't break. Always checking for exits. Always checking for cameras.

Her phone vibrated in her clutch.

She pulled it out. It was a FaceTime request.

Bianca Vane.

Elodie's stomach tightened. Bianca was Kade's ex, and a woman who collected secrets like other people collected stamps. If Elodie didn't answer, Bianca would call her mother.

Elodie adjusted her hair, put on her best fake smile, and accepted the call.

The screen filled with Bianca's face. She was at a garden party. The lighting was soft, golden. Hamptons.

Elodie! Bianca shrilled. Where are you? It is so dark.

Hawaii, Elodie lied smoothly. Night swimming.

Bianca smirked. She brought a champagne flute to her lips.

Shame. Alden was just asking about you.

Elodie's hand tightened on the phone. The plastic case creaked.

Is that so? Elodie asked. Her voice was bored.

Yes. He bought me this bracelet. Bianca held up her wrist. A thick diamond cuff glittered in the sun. He said it reminded him of my eyes.

Elodie knew two things immediately. One, Alden's eyes were brown, not clear like diamonds. Two, Alden never spoke in clichés.

Cute, Elodie deadpanned.

Anyway, have fun in... wherever, Bianca said, dismissing her.

The screen went black.

Elodie stared at the phone. A surge of irrational, hot jealousy flooded her veins. She knew Bianca was lying. She knew it. But the image of Alden buying jewelry for another woman still felt like a knife in her ribs.

She downed her vodka. It burned all the way down.

She needed to cool off.

She stepped out of the booth and walked to the railing. She looked down into the pit below, the ultra-VIP area where the real power players sat.

And there he was.

The man from the SUV.

He was sitting alone at a large circular table in the center of the chaos. People were dancing around him, shouting, drinking. But he was still.

He was wearing the same black suit. A glass of water sat in front of him.

He looked up.

Across the crowded club, through the flashing strobe lights, his eyes found hers again.

He knew she was there. He had felt her watching.