Magic Man in Las Vegas [Jackson Wang Fanfic]

Chapter 1 - The Arrival in Las Vegas

Genève:

The final plane from LAX to Las Vegas had barely come to a halt on the tarmac at Harry Reid International Airport when impatience settled into my bones. The slow crawl toward Terminal 1 felt like an eternity. My legs fidgeted with nervous energy, and my heart pounded relentlessly—a constant reminder of the anxiety that had haunted me since yesterday. All I could do was sit there, in first class, counting the seconds until I could escape this suffocating flight.

I glanced at the empty seat beside me, the void only intensifying my confusion. How did I end up in this absurd predicament? None of it made sense. The sooner I could get off this plane, the sooner I could put an end to this charade. This torture didn't need to follow me any longer, I kept telling myself, though convincing myself was another matter entirely.

These seats were a gift from my ex-father-in-law, Mr. Giovanni Belissario, CEO of Bliss Vacation Enterprises. That knowledge only made matters worse. Being practically coerced into this scheme added layers of complication. The seat next to me was supposed to be occupied by the man I was meant to marry, yet it remained vacant—a silent testament to my torment.

"I shouldn't be doing this," I muttered under my breath, a mantra I repeated to myself despite knowing there was no escape.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally stepped off the plane and rushed through the gate and security without incident. Mr. Belissario had instructed me to take a private car he'd arranged straight to the hotel. Why he was so insistent on controlling my every move was a mystery. I wasn't part of his family anymore, not after yesterday. Yet, despite countless thoughts of running away, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Part of me still hoped that something, or someone, might appear during this trip.

I'd chosen a simple outfit for the day—a white crop-top chiffon blouse and flared jeans. My black Prada booties clicked with each step, reminding me of their expensive origin. It wasn't my usual style, but I couldn't bear to leave behind my favorite shoes, a gift from my ex-fiancé. Unfortunately, they also carried memories I wished to forget.

When I finally reached the town car outside, the clock on my phone read 11 p.m. Another late night stretched ahead, and the thought of spending it in an empty room, devoid of the man I loved, weighed heavily on me.

The car's journey through The Strip's traffic was excruciatingly slow, leaving me alone with my thoughts. My legs fidgeted again, a habit from childhood—a self-soothing motion to stave off the anxiety threatening to overwhelm me.

What was triggering this anxiety? Was it the prospect of an all-expenses-paid vacation at one of Las Vegas's top resort hotels, entirely alone? Or was it the need to stay hidden from the paparazzi that relentlessly pursued the Belissarios? Perhaps it was the fact that the man I was supposed to marry yesterday had vanished without a trace. Jilted at the altar, I had little to go on except his father's insistence that I take our honeymoon alone. But why? No one needed to know my predicament, yet the thought of not going frightened me more.

The resort loomed ahead, its grandeur almost mocking in the face of my desolation. Check-in was swift, and the driver helped with my luggage as a guest services attendant escorted me to the villa—a luxurious accommodation reserved for the elite. Each unit boasted a plunge pool, a perk I should have been eager for, but all I could think of was the absence of the man I had hoped to share it with.

Why did he disappear before saying "I do"? What had happened? Had I missed something? His father's insistence on this trip was peculiar, almost as if he had a plan of his own. He had even ensured I got on the plane by sending an entourage to see me off. But why? The events of the wedding day replayed in my mind, surreal and unsettling. Everything happened so fast, and I felt I had no choice but to comply. Giovanni Belissario was too powerful to defy, and I lacked the energy to resist. Yet, none of this made sense. Why would Blake, the man I loved, abandon me like that? Why wouldn't he answer my calls or texts, leaving me in this limbo?

Blake Belissario wasn't like his father. He wasn't just another rich trust-fund kid with power and connections. He was sweet, thoughtful, and caring—though not without his faults. We had met two years ago at a gala at the SLS Hotel in Beverly Hills, where he swept me off my feet. Despite my initial doubts, he pursued me relentlessly, charming his way into my heart. Now, in the wake of his absence, I questioned everything. He had always been late but never missed important events. Not like this. Not our wedding.

I stood at the altar for what felt like an eternity, surrounded by whispers from the crowd, his absence becoming painfully clear. Even his groomsmen seemed privy to something I wasn't.

Was it all a ruse? The thought gnawed at the edges of my mind, but no, it couldn't have been. Blake would never humiliate me like this—or would he? I didn't know what to believe anymore. Overwhelmed, tears threatened to spill as I tried to comprehend this new reality—a reality without the love of my life.

Finally reaching my villa, I unlocked the door with the keycard, donning sunglasses to hide my tear-streaked face from the guest service attendant. Thankfully, she seemed oblivious.

Inside, the attendant gave a quick tour of the luxurious space, but I absorbed none of it. Her words were lost on me as my thoughts spiraled. Once she left, I was alone, and the dam broke. The tears I'd been holding back cascaded down as I collapsed onto the immaculately made bed.

I lay there, the weight of my loneliness crashing over me like a relentless tide. I had hoped this trip would bring clarity, but instead, it only deepened the void. Would I ever understand why Blake left? Would he ever return? These unanswered questions echoed in the silence of the villa, leaving me with nothing but the sound of my own ragged breathing and the dull ache of a broken heart.