Chapter 1

The heavy oak doors of the penthouse suite swung open with a silent, hydraulic hiss, admitting me into a world that smelled of aged leather, expensive scotch, and the faint, metallic tang of anticipation. I had expected noise, the raucous laughter of high-rollers, the clatter of chips, the low hum of a jazz band that no one was actually watching. Instead, I was met with a silence so profound it felt like a physical weight pressing against my eardrums. The only sound was the rhythmic *tick-tick-tick* of a grand grandfather clock in the corner and the soft *shhh-shhh* of the deck being cut by a single, steady hand. Daddy was there. Alone. He sat in a high-backed wingchair upholstered in deep burgundy velvet, the kind of chair that looked like it belonged in a Victorian library rather than a forty-story luxury penthouse overlooking the glittering sprawl of the city below. He wasn’t wearing his usual business attire, not the crisp white shirt and navy suit that commanded boardrooms. Instead, he wore a dark charcoal cardigan over a white silk shirt, the top button undone to reveal the hollow of his throat. His tie was loose, hanging like a question mark