“WHEN YOU LOOK at a man like Rafael Martinez, you can see he’s really got it all. Being male, rich, influential. He knows the right people, and he knows how to strike a deal,” Jessica Morgan said on television, as if she was looking through the camera, directly at Rafael as she spoke his name. “But the people of Las Vegas need, deserve, a mayor who is attuned to the needs of their community. Someone who understands the housing and welfare issues we face. I do. I’m running for mayor to help the people, the women and children who need someone to protect them and their rights. I want a more accountable, community-focused city council—”
Rafael bit back a curse and hit Mute on the remote control. So, he could still see the beautiful woman on the large flat screen in his living room, but not hear her slanderous words.
“Well, she isn’t exactly wrong,” Alex Fischer, his best friend said, smiling, from the couch. “You are male, rich and influential, and you know how to strike a deal.”
Rafael glared at him, but didn’t respond.
Alex relented, and leaned back casually. “Okay, so where did she even come from? And why does she have it out for you?”
“Jessica’s been a city councillor for two years, since the last election, and she’s been involved in community issues from the start. But with a few exceptions when we haven’t seen eye to eye on certain issues, she’s always been fairly quiet, and no one expected her to announce her candidacy.” Rafael had thought her intention to run was a joke at first. He thought he’d be the hands-down successor to Mayor Thompson, and he had been just as surprised as everyone else when she’d become his opposition.
“So, she just up and decides to run for mayor?” Alex asked skeptically. “There has to be more to the process than that.”
Rafael shook his head. “She only has to submit an application, have the money, campaign her ass off and hope to win. And guessing by the amount of press she’s been getting, she is definitely doing that. And get this—she actually crowdfunded the money for her campaign. And raised lots.”
“Are you kidding? And what’s her problem with you? She clearly isn’t a fan.”
“No, she is not.” His entire life, it didn’t matter to him whether or not he was well liked. He was confident, secure enough to let the opinions of others, good and bad, roll off his back. He needed a thick skin to survive in politics. But he didn’t know why Jessica Morgan’s negative opinion of him dug at him. They’d had some friendly enough interactions in the past. But now the stakes had never been higher for him. The woman who was bad-mouthing him was his only opposition for the job he wanted, the job that was rightfully his.
“You got me. All I can think is that she wants to win. I’m the only other candidate, the one she has to beat,” he said bitterly, recalling the slight dip in his approval rating since Jessica’s entrance in the campaign. “She’s got her fighting gloves on.”
“So, what are you going to do about her? She can do a lot of damage to your campaign, talking about you like that. The last thing you need is to be portrayed as just another rich, elite asshole,” Alex, who was also his campaign manager, needlessly reminded him.
“You think I don’t fucking know that?” Rafael said, looking toward the screen at Jessica as she still spoke, now muted.
But Rafael wasn’t just another rich, elite asshole. Hell, everything that Rafael had ever achieved, he’d worked his ass off for it. Every luxury he’d been afforded—the opulent home, the fast cars—were a direct result of the blood, sweat and tears that he poured into everything he undertook. Ever since he was a kid, his parents, Mexican immigrants who’d come to America for a better life, had instilled in him the knowledge that hard work begot success. And it was that belief that fueled his ambition in his business ventures and drove his political bid to be mayor of Las Vegas.
But he wasn’t going to stop there. With his best friends and business partners—The Brotherhood, as they called themselves—at his back, he’d be unstoppable. Alex and their other friend Brett were local real estate moguls who ran one of the city’s biggest firms. Gabe was one of the city’s prominent lawyers and the group’s legal expert. Alana, The Brotherhood’s only female member, was a talented interior designer who also managed the group’s various clubs and restaurants. Political influence was Rafael’s contribution to the group. Together, they owned some of the most lucrative businesses in the city, and they were constantly looking to expand.
He turned away from Alex and gazed out the glass door to his backyard, looking past the hot tub and the pool, out at the darkened sky of Las Vegas, where the lights of the Strip and downtown beckoned to him. But if he looked beyond the lights, the glitz, the glamor, that Las Vegas was known for, he could see the rest of the city, full of the people he wanted to help. The people who, like his parents, had built homes and lives in the inhospitable, scorching desert, and sometimes struggled, working toward the American dream. Despite what Jessica Morgan thought she knew about him, he wanted to be the mayor of the people. He had the ideas, he had the connections, he had the money, and it wasn’t just his ego driving him. Rafael just wanted to make a difference in the world. And for him, business growth that benefitted everyone in the local economy was a key way to do that.
But his career path went much further than that. He not only wanted to help elevate the people of Las Vegas, but deep down, he really wanted to help the people of the state of Nevada, and then America as a whole. He looked around his home, and while it was lavish and contained every comfort he could ever imagine, it wasn’t enough; the money wasn’t enough for him anymore. He’d set his sights high, and since he was a child, he’d dreamed of someday sitting in the Oval Office, being the commander-in-chief, leading the country, making decisions for the betterment of everyone in America, no matter who they were, working with other world leaders to make the world a better, safer, cleaner place. It would be tough, a lot of hard work, but Rafael was ready. He’d been preparing all his life for the battle and would take it head-on. There was only one thing standing in his way at that moment—Jessica Morgan.
He turned around, and his eyes narrowed as they zeroed in on the television once more, on Jessica Morgan’s heart-shaped face, her green eyes, pouty lips. Her smooth, creamy skin that his fingertips itched to caress, and her light brown wavy hair, which was lightened throughout and at the ends with honey-colored highlights. Her message was one of equality, of everyone having a place at the table, and while he admired that message, he’d yet to hear her plan of how to accomplish it. As far as he was concerned, as idealistic as her message was, she was all talk.
But not only was she a bleeding heart, Jessica was a beautiful woman. Rafael couldn’t deny that. She dressed conservatively, but the suits and high-collared shirts actually put more of her delicious curves on display than they hid, and that could easily drive a man to distraction. There