The Dark Prince's Prize

Chapter 18-2

The Loft Casino and Hotel

Las Vegas, Nevada

Alberto Frank Armeni Campeau looked down along the vibrant avenue from the Penthouse atop one of his recent acquisitions. The Loft would be rebranded over the next six months and absorbed into the Campeau Empire of fine hotels, restaurants, resorts, and casinos around the world. He sipped on the wine delivered by the hotel manager. The 1954 Bordeaux Blend Red from Chateau Mouton Rothschild, Pauillac, France was excellent but not enough to keep the manager on. The very expensive accountants he used had discovered the man enjoyed the hotel’s fine vintage wine as much as he enjoyed gambling at its tables.

A knock at the door drew his attention. A glance at his phone showed that Jack DeSimone, his Head of Security, had arrived. He pressed the buzzer to unlock the door.

“Mr. Campeau, the helicopter is ready when you are,” Jack announced.

“Thank you, Jack,” he responded.

He finished his wine, placed the empty wine glass on the side table, and strode toward the door. Jack held out a bespoke Canali burgundy ultralight cashmere coat. He slid his arms into it and adjusted the collar.

“How much do you want to bet they don’t have the money—only the woman?” he inquired.

“I never bet, sir,” Jack replied with a neutral expression.

“That is why you are still with me,” he remarked. He pulled a pair of black Salvatore Ferragamo gloves from his pocket and slid them on. “Let us hope they have both. Do you have the information I requested?”

“Yes, sir,” Jack replied.

“Excellent. Let’s get this over with. I have matters to attend to here,” he replied.

Jack bowed his head in acknowledgement and pressed the button for the private elevator door that led to the helipad. Al stepped inside, turned around, and faced the door. He felt no remorse in taking advantage of Gary Lee-Stephens’ greed and intoxication. The man and his brothers had been arrogant and crude.

His brief visit to Casper had been unexpected thanks to a flat tire. The parking lot at the Cattleman’s Bar and Grill had been relatively empty. A need to relieve himself led him into the establishment—and a local group playing poker.

Normally, he would have dismissed the group. None of the men or women sitting at the table were in his league. The games he played in could be worth millions.

The group’s rude remarks, namely from a man called Jerry Lee-Stephens, about his clothing irked him. He seldom responded to such behavior, but the man had stepped into his personal space. Alberto had grabbed the man, drawing a response from his companions. His offer to play a game of poker quickly diffused the situation.

In the first hour he purchased several rounds of drinks, lost a few thousand dollars, and then struck back with a vengeance. In less than half an hour, he had emptied the pockets of all the players except for one, who refused to cave.

Gary Lee-Stephens had raised the bet to ten thousand dollars—on credit, of course. Alberto had started to turn down the offer until Jerry threw in a photo on top of the pile of cash. While the young woman in the photo wasn’t remarkably beautiful, there had been something about her eyes and her smile that pulled an almost primitive response from him—something he hadn’t felt in a long, long time. He was intrigued by the potential he saw in the young woman, and by his curiosity to see what would happen when she discovered her brothers had offered her up like a broodmare to the highest bidder.

The memory of his amusement that the woman in the photograph wouldn’t appreciate her siblings’ stupidity made him smile. His unexpected agreement had surprised himself. He was never impulsive. Gary had tried to withdraw the offer of his sister, but it was too late. Alberto accepted the deal—and easily won. His victory did not go over well with the brothers which made his win even sweeter.

Pride goeth before the fall, he thought with amusement as he strode toward the helicopter.

“I have a full crew tonight. They are already in Casper. We’ll be ready should there be any incidents like the last time,” Jack stated.

“Very good,” he responded.