Leticia delicately closed the large doors to her father's office. She knew something was wrong from the tone of his voice, but hadn't realized how bothered her father was. Of course, no one else would realize even now-- the man might have had the best poker face in all of Vegas-- but she knew; call it daughter's intuition. She could<em>feel</em>his anger resonating through the walls even as she strode quickly on her Manolo Bahlniks and descended in the elevator.<br/><br/>She produced large, dark-tinted sunglasses from her doubtlessly designer handbag as she stepped into the warm Vegas night air and slipped into the car her father had ordered. Mere minutes later, Leticia stood at the entrance to the Luxor. Business as usual, barring more security guards and several police vehicles parked aside.<em>Apparently</em>, they were trying to keep it on the down low. She couldn't blame them, it'd be bad for business. She flipped open her phone to make a couple calls when one of the security guards beckoned her forward, more likely to persuade her to leave, or speak with some manager than lead her up, but it was something.<br/><br/>Daddy had called ahead.