The Tourist (Sold #1)

4. Diego

CHAPTER 4

Diego

PRESENT DAY - 6 MONTHS LATER

T he evening descends over the vibrant pulse of Las Vegas as I navigate the bustling crowds that populate The Myriad, the largest and most illustrious casino on the Strip. Its sheer scale and the spectacle of its opulence are almost otherworldly, and its grand, curved white brick architecture towers dominantly over the landscape.

The Myriad is the flagship of my family business and an emblem of luxury, providing an escape from the darker realities lurking beneath the shimmering veneer. It hides the seedy side of what really goes on in this city, the side which brings me here to a meeting about my sister and her friend who are both still missing. I need an update on what is being done to find them.

Outside, the air is charged with the excitement of tourists and locals alike. They’ve been drawn to the spectacular water and light show erupting from the massive lake that fronts the casino. Jets of water dance rhythmically, illuminated by a kaleidoscope of lights that paint the night sky with bursts of color.

Inside, the evidence of prosperity is overwhelming. The ceilings are decorated with expansive glass flower installations, each piece delicately crafted to catch and refract the numerous lights below, creating a scene overhead that resembles a vibrant, blossoming garden suspended in an eternal spring.

The air is saturated with a mix of anticipation and laughter, together with the clinking of slot machines, the soft rustle of cards, and the occasional cheer from the craps tables. At least someone is winning, for now at least, but as so often happens in this city, it will probably all be lost before first sunlight.

I make my way across the casino floor, heading toward the VIP bar located in a quieter part of The Myriad. Here, the chaos of the main areas gives way to a more subdued atmosphere where conversations are possible and privacy is respected. The bar is the epitome of understated elegance with its dark wood furnishings and soft lighting.

Eaton Armstrong is there, as arranged, sitting in a corner that affords a good view of the room and the entrance. He was once my enemy, but now he’s an associate after he started to break apart his father’s legacy. His ever-present bodyguard, Max, stands watch. Eaton is always sharply dressed and composed, but today, there’s an edge to his demeanor that speaks of the serious matters we need to discuss.

He acknowledges my approach with a nod, his eyes briefly scanning the area again before settling back on me.

“Diego,” he greets.

We shake hands firmly.

As I take my seat, a server approaches immediately. Her movements are so smooth and practiced that she appears to almost glide. She places two glasses down in front of us containing xtra A?ejo tequila, my family’s brand. It’s a sign of the newfound respect between Eaton and me that he now prefers to drink this brand.

The hostess disappears as quietly as she arrived. Her discretion is a reflection of the kind of clientele this bar serves.

Once we’re alone again, Eaton leans in and says, “I have something. It’s not much, but it’s the first solid lead in weeks.”

He passes an envelope across the table to me. My hands tremble slightly as I take it, steeling myself for what I am about to see. The photograph inside shows Serena looking back at me with eyes full of pain and fear. Her face is bruised, her lip split, and her will appears to be broken. Her dead eyes show no signs of the spirited girl who frequently tested my patience. It’s a stark reminder of the cruelty I know she must have endured since her kidnapping six months ago.

“She looks...” My voice trails off, unable to complete the thought.

“I know,” Eaton replies. “It’s hard to see, but this gives us something concrete to go on.”

“How did you get this?” I ask, my eyes still locked on the haunting image of my sister.

I quickly shove the photograph into my jacket pocket, knowing I need to clear my head of the murderous thoughts that threaten to consume me.

“As you already know, after my father’s downfall, I took over all of his businesses and dismantled many of the more lascivious enterprises. Some of his former associates have started talking to me because they know the type of pain and retribution I can inflict upon them. They’re running scared and looking to cut deals. This lead came from one of them. They’ve given me the location of a secluded compound in Columbia. It’s where they think she was taken.”

The mention of Eaton’s father, Richard Armstrong, reignites a spark of anger within me. His network was responsible for Serena’s abduction and the disappearance of her best friend, Chloe. We recently discovered that Armstrong and his associates had been watching my sister for several weeks prior to her abduction, waiting for an opportunity to take her, so when the girls ran away from their bodyguards at the club, my enemy had a team in position to grab them.

Armstrong sent me Serena’s blood and cum-soaked underwear the night after she was taken. I’m not a fool. I understood the message—he’d raped my little sister and taken her innocence.

Thankfully, shortly afterward, he died painfully at the hands of Eaton and Eaton’s wife, Shelby, but Serena and her friend still haven’t been located.

“And Chloe? Is there any news about her?” I ask, clinging to the hope that where we find one, we’ll find the other.

I’ve been in regular contact with Chloe’s parents since she disappeared, trying to reassure them I will rescue her.

Eaton shakes his head. “Nothing yet. But if we can get into this compound and-”

“We will,” I interrupt, determination coursing through me. Nothing’s going to stop me exploring the best lead we’ve had in months. “We have to get inside.”

Our conversation shifts to logistics, and we spend the rest of the evening discussing potential ways to infiltrate the compound and the resources we’ll need. Eaton’s wide-ranging business dealings and varied connections will be invaluable for this operation, and along with the support of his security team, I know he will move heaven and earth to aid in the rescue.

We get up to leave, having finalized our plans, and I feel the weight of my sister’s photograph in my pocket. It will serve as a constant reminder of the high stakes of failure.

“We’ll find her. And Chloe too,” I state, and it’s not a hope. It’s a vow.

Eaton nods, his expression resolute. “We’ll find them. Whatever it takes.”

Exiting the bar, the casino’s vibrant life seems almost surreal. The laughter, cheers, and the sound of chips and dice all belong to another world. For us, the game is deadly. I know the road ahead is fraught with risk and uncertainty, but I will not rest until I find Serena and Chloe.

Dead or alive. In one piece or not.

No matter what, I will bring them both home.