Chapter 187: The Despicable Old Man

Lila’s POV

Sunbeams struggled to penetrate the thick canopy of trees, creating shifting patterns across the gravel driveway as my Bentley approached. This place wasn't on any map, and that was by design. Hidden miles from Manhattan's busy streets, nestled in a secluded woodland clearing, the Winters family's secret gambling den operated far from prying eyes.

I'd always known where Juno was hiding. After forcing Sophia's father Kai out and installing her uncle as the new head of the Winters family, the old man had retreated here, pulling strings from the shadows while pretending to be retired.

"Remind me again why this place matters so much to the Winters?" Leo asked, peering through the tinted windows at the deceptively modest exterior.

"Because Henry built it for them," I replied, straightening my black shirt cuffs. "Twenty years ago, my father established this place as a favor to Juno. Funneled high-rollers here, provided protection, laundered money. The Winters family owes at least sixty percent of their income to Pacheco connections." I paused, watching as we approached the checkpoint. "That's why Sophia's betrayal cut so deep—they depend on us more than they'd ever admit."

Before stepping out of the car, I pulled out my phone, a smile automatically forming on my lips as I typed a message to Lila: *At a casino handling some business. Just letting you know there are many beautiful female dealers here, but don't worry! I won't look at them even once!*

Perhaps it was excessive, but I couldn't bear the thought of losing her again. The slightest misunderstanding, the smallest seed of doubt—I wouldn't risk it. Not after everything we'd been through.

My phone pinged almost immediately with her response: *Do you really need to tell me something so minor? I know! I trust you!*

Even as armed guards approached the car with shields and guns drawn, I couldn't suppress the idiotic grin spreading across my face.

"Boss," Leo murmured beside me, "maybe save the lovesick teenager act for when we don't have firearms pointed at us?"

I blinked, reality snapping back into focus as I noticed the two hulking guards exchanging confused glances at my inappropriate smile.

Straightening my shoulders, I stepped out of the car, the predatory confidence I'd temporarily misplaced sliding back over me like a second skin. The air around me seemed to electrify, crackling with barely contained power. My presence alone was enough to make the nearest guard take an involuntary step backward.

"We're here to see Juno," Leo stated, his voice carrying the full weight of the Pacheco authority.

The larger of the two guards—a mountain of a man with a neck thicker than most people's thighs—squared his shoulders. "Mr. Winters isn't seeing visitors."

Leo's laugh was cold enough to frost the morning air. "Tell Juno to come out, or he'll face the consequences." He leaned forward, lowering his voice to a deadly whisper. "Who gave him the audacity to keep Ethan Pacheco waiting at his door?"

The guard's eyes widened, Adam's apple bobbing nervously as he frantically radioed inside. Within seconds, the heavy reinforced doors swung open.

We stepped into another world. The exterior might have been understated, but the interior screamed luxury—albeit a dated, tacky version of it. Red velvet wallpaper, gold-plated fixtures, crystal chandeliers that hadn't been properly cleaned in years. The place reeked of stale cigarettes, spilled alcohol, and desperation.

Despite the early hour, the casino floor buzzed with activity. The constant electronic chirping of slot machines created a disorienting soundtrack, while green-felt tables hosted poker and blackjack games for sleepless gamblers. Time didn't exist here—the artificial lighting and lack of windows ensured players lost track of whether it was day or night.

"Juno's office is in the back," I told Leo, already cutting a path through the gaming floor.

As I moved through the casino, I felt eyes following me—dealers pausing mid-shuffle, cocktail waitresses slowing their steps, security guards straightening their postures. My reputation preceded me like a shock wave. I hadn't bothered with a jacket today, just a fitted black shirt that stretched across my shoulders, the top buttons left casually undone, paired with tailored trousers. The deliberate informality of my attire made me look even more dangerous—a predator comfortable enough in his power that he didn't need the armor of a full suit.

A blonde dealer at the nearest roulette table caught my eye, her gaze lingering a beat too long before dropping submissively. I didn't acknowledge her existence. My days of noticing other women were over—permanently.

We reached the back of the casino, where a long hallway led to a mahogany door with "PRIVATE" emblazoned in peeling gold letters. The contrast was jarring—the shabby gambling floor giving way to what was effectively a luxury apartment. Juno had created his own sanctuary within this den of vice, a plush hideaway where he could play king.

I didn't knock. Power moves were second nature to me, and allowing Juno even the small courtesy of announcing myself would shift the dynamic in his favor.

Inside, the old man sat behind an oversized desk, a half-naked woman perched on his lap as he pawed at her with liver-spotted hands. The scent of expensive cigars and cheap perfume hung heavy in the air.

The woman scrambled off him as we entered, hurriedly adjusting her clothing before slipping past us and out the door.

"Juno," I said, my voice dropping to a dangerous whisper, "I see your casino operations are thriving. It would be a shame if that were to change."

The old man's face twitched with momentary panic before settling into a practiced smile. "Mr. Pacheco! Welcome!" His voice dripped with false warmth as he gestured expansively. "What an unexpected pleasure!"

He hadn't bothered to greet me at the door, and now he was pretending this intrusion was some kind of social call. The two-faced bastard.

"Ethan, it's been too long—how's business...?" Juno's smile told me everything I needed to know. I wasn't an idiot. I knew what he was really asking.

*He'd seen the video.* Of course he had. Everyone in our world had watched the footage of Lila confronting Gina, sipping expensive Scotch behind closed doors, whispering about my infidelity in hushed tones.

The despicable old man.

"I'm well, thank you for asking," I replied, keeping my voice steady despite the rage building inside me.

"I see... How's Henry doing?" Juno gestured toward a seating area. "Please, make yourselves comfortable."

"He's fine," I lied, the words bitter on my tongue. It was a stupid question that I didn't want to answer, but I had to play along. All of this was for Lila.

"Glad to hear it," Juno nodded, settling into a leather armchair across from us. "But I can't help wondering—what brings you here? After everything that's happened, I didn't expect to see you again."

I gave Leo a slight nod, and he promptly tossed the briefcase full of cash directly at Juno's face.

Meeting his gaze unflinchingly, I didn't blink under his scrutiny. "I'm here because I want to talk about Sophia."

I watched Juno's expression transform instantly, from politely detached to coldly contemptuous.