Chapter 8｜Her Brother Wasn’t Missing

The building wasn’t marked on any tourist map. No neon. No valet. Just a narrow brick complex sagging between a pawn shop and a closed-down liquor store, its fire escape rusted into a permanent state of apology. The kind of place Vegas pretended didn’t exist, even as it quietly fed on the people inside. I stood across the street for a long moment, staring at the address written in sharpie on the back of a parking receipt. Jack didn’t answer my calls. Hadn’t for weeks. Missing, I’d thought. Gone. Slipped through the cracks the way people always warned you about. But Vegas didn’t lose people any more than it lost paperwork. I crossed the street, every step heavier than the last. The stairwell smelled like bleach and old cigarettes. Someone had tried—recently—to make the place look clean, which somehow made it worse. Apartment 3C was at the end of the hall. The door was scarred, the lock new. I knocked once. Nothing. I knocked again, harder. “Jack. It’s me.” A shuffle. A pause. Then the chain slid back. My brother looked at me like I was a ghost. Not thinner—hollower. His cheekbones jutted sharply, eyes rimmed red and exhausted, like he hadn’t slept in days. The Jack who used to steal fries off my plate and call me bossy for worrying too much felt like a lifetime ago. “Renee?” His voice cracked. The door opened fully, and I stepped inside before he could change his mind. The apartment was bare. Mattress on the floor. A folding chair. No TV. No personal photos. Like someone had stripped the room down to whatever made escaping hardest. My chest tightened. “You’re alive.” He laughed once, bitter. “Define alive.” I turned on him. “Why didn’t you tell me where you were?” Jack looked at the door, then at the ceiling, as if expecting something—or someone—to be listening. “They said I wasn’t allowed,” he muttered. A cold wave rolled through me. “Who is ‘they’?” He didn’t answer. He sank onto the mattress instead, shoulders collapsing inward like he’d been holding himself upright through sheer will. “They didn’t kidnap you,” I said slowly. “Did they?” “No,” he replied. “They just didn’t let me leave.” Rage flared hot and sharp. “That’s the same thing.” Jack shook his head. “Not in Vegas. Here, everything’s voluntary on paper.” He reached for a manila envelope on the floor and slid it toward me with shaking hands. Casino logo. Black and gold. DEBT RESOLUTION NOTICE. I flipped through the pages, my pulse roaring in my ears. Numbers stacked on numbers. Interest compounding daily. Fees that didn’t even pretend to be legal. “This is impossible,” I whispered. “You don’t gamble like this.” “I didn’t,” he said. “Not at first.” My head snapped up. “They comped me,” Jack continued dully. “Rooms. Drinks. VIP access. They said it was all promotional. That I was a ‘preferred guest.’” His mouth twisted. “Turns out that just meant they knew exactly how much to let me lose.” “How bad is it?” I asked, though I already knew. He named a number. The room tilted. “This isn’t debt,” I said hoarsely. “This is ownership.” Jack’s eyes filled. “That’s what they told me.” My stomach dropped. “Who told you?” “Someone who knew your name.” The words hit like a punch. “They said if I didn’t cooperate, they’d escalate,” he went on. “Collection methods. Legal holds. Criminal exposure.” He laughed weakly. “Then they mentioned you.” Ice spread through my veins. “Me?” “They asked about you,” he said. “Your job. Your records. Whether you were… unattached.” I sank into the chair, dread settling deep and heavy. “They called it a contingency,” Jack said. “Said certain families preferred clean solutions. No violence. No mess.” His voice broke. “I didn’t know what they meant at first.” I swallowed hard. “Until when?” “Until your name showed up on the paperwork,” he whispered. “Right next to mine.” The room went silent. The system log. The hidden records. The marriage that wasn’t random. I pressed a hand to my mouth, nausea surging. “So when I married Logan…” Jack nodded. “My debt stopped growing. Overnight.” The truth slammed into place with brutal clarity. I hadn’t been chosen because I was unlucky. I’d been selected because I was necessary. I stood so fast the chair scraped loudly against the floor. “They used me as collateral.” Jack flinched. “I tried to stop it. I swear. I begged them not to pull you in. But they said—” He choked. “They said family always pays.” Hot tears burned my eyes, but I refused to let them fall. “This isn’t on you,” I said fiercely. “You hear me? This is their game.” He looked at me, broken and terrified. “They own me, Renee.” I took his hands, squeezing tight. “No. They’re just betting I won’t fight back.” As I stood to leave, my phone buzzed in my pocket. A single message. No sender. DEBT STATUS: PAUSED ASSET STATUS: ACTIVE My blood ran cold. Jack stared at the screen over my shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. I closed my eyes. My brother wasn’t missing. He was the leverage. And Vegas had decided I was worth the trade.