Chapter 26
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Koen
The Mercedes rumbles beneath us, the growl of the engine filling the silence. My head rests against the window, arms crossed, while Oscar’s hands grip the wheel. He hasn’t said a word since we left the courthouse, but a storm is brewing beside him.
Finally, he breaks the silence. “What the hell were you thinking, Koen?” His voice is calm, too calm, and that’s worse than yelling.
I shrug, not looking at him. “I wasn’t.”
“No kidding,” he snaps, his grip tightening. “Do you know how lucky you are that they only took your license? You keep driving like that, and next time, it won’t just be a ticket. It’ll be you or someone else wrapped around a tree. Driving like that, with Nicholas in the passenger seat? You’re not only playing with your own life. Levi told me you drive like that when he’s with you too.”
Traitor twin.
I don’t respond, staring out the window as the desert blurs past.
“Why, Koen?” Oscar exhales sharply. “Why are you doing this? You know better.”
“Do I?” The words are laced with more anger than I mean.
He glances at me, his jaw tight. “Don’t start with that. You do know better. You should know what cars can do, Koen. What they can take away.”
My stomach knots. I know exactly what he means. Mom. Rosie. Gone in an instant because of one stupid crash.
“I wasn’t racing,” I mutter, but even I don’t believe it.
“Doesn’t matter. You think that would’ve made a difference to them? You think the car cared why it was going too fast?”
I squeeze my eyes shut, biting back the flood of emotions. “I wasn’t trying to—”
“What, Koen?” he interrupts. “What were you trying to do? Because all I see is you risking your life for nothing.”
“It’s not for nothing.” I turn to glare at him. “It’s how I… cope, okay? It’s the only thing that makes me feel anything.”
Oscar’s eyes flick toward me, softening for only a second. “There are better ways, kid. You don’t get to put your life, or someone else’s, on the line because you don’t want to deal with your shit.”
I huff, looking away again. “Whatever.”
We fall into silence for a while, the road stretching endlessly ahead.
“Levi’s training hard,” Oscar says suddenly. “You should see him with those pigeons. He’s going to be so good.”
“Yeah, well, good for him,” I mutter.
“You should join him.”
I snort. “I’m not doing silly tricks, Oscar.”
It’s fine if Levi wants to play magician, but I’m not into that shit.
He chuckles, reaching into his pocket with one hand while steering with the other. “Silly tricks, huh?” He pulls out a coin, holding it up between us. “Two sides to a coin, Koen.” He flips it between his fingers like it’s weightless. “You and Levi, you’re like that. Heads and tails. Opposites, but part of the same thing.”
I watch as he tosses the coin into the air. It spins, catching the light, and then—nothing. It’s gone.
“Sometimes it spins.” His voice takes on that theatrical tone he uses on stage. “Sometimes it falls.”
I glance around, half expecting to find it on the dashboard or in the cup holder, but there’s no trace of it.
“Cute.”
“Who said magic has to be cute? You’re not Levi. You don’t need the pigeons and illusions. You’ve got a mind for strategy… for reading people. You could be a mentalist, Koen. Get into their heads. No silly tricks, just skill. Real skill.”
“Sounds like a lot of work.”
“Maybe,” he agrees, leaning back into his seat. “But it’s better than getting yourself behind bars for racing. Think about it. You, Levi, the Magic Twins . That will get you rich as hell. You keep your license this time, and you can buy every car you’ve ever dreamed of.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “Big dreams, Uncle Oscar.”
“Dream big, Koen.” He glances at me. “But be safe. And keep Levi safe. You’re not just two sides of a coin. You’re stronger together. Don’t throw that away over some need for speed.”
I look at him, the words settling in my chest. Oscar’s not talking about cars and magic—he’s talking about the weight of everything we’ve lost and everything we still have.
“Yeah,” I murmur, turning back to the road. “I’ll think about it.”
He smiles, shifting gears as the Mercedes roars forward. “Good. Now stop sulking and help me figure out how to break it to Levi that twenty pigeons in his room are nineteen too many without him staging a full-blown meltdown.”
I laugh despite myself. “Good luck with that. You know he’s going to call it artistic expression or some crap.”
Oscar grins. “Yeah, well, he can express himself all he wants in the garage. I’m not negotiating with pigeons.”
The memory fades, but the weight of it lingers, pressing down on my chest.
Sitting in the Bronco, I stare out at the parked Mercedes in front of us.
The same car Oscar and I drove home that day, his words about coins, Levi, and me still ringing in my ears.
I glance at Novalee in the passenger seat beside me. She’s quiet, her hand resting lightly on her bracelet, her gaze fixed on the park we’ve parked next to, and I let myself look at her.
Mine.
Then I follow her gaze.
Nicholas is in the distance, guiding a group of kids through a parkour course like he’s been doing this his entire life. Which, in a way, he has.
I remember doing that with him, going to this park and training backflips and shit every week. It was always more his kind of thing than mine. Mine were cars. But since he did my hobby with me, I figured we could do something he enjoyed every week too.
It was fun.
Just as much fun as these kids seem to have. They laugh and cheer as he encourages them, his smile easy and genuine.
And Novalee is watching him.
It’s not only the way her eyes linger, tracing his every move, but it’s the micro expressions she can’t hide.
The faint lift at the corners of her mouth— a flicker of joy.
The slight furrow of her brow— a pang of longing.
And then, the barest tremble in her lower lip— a hint of heartbreak.
Fuck.
She’s hurting.
And it’s my fault.
I thought I’d be fine if Nicholas got hurt in the process of all this. Thought it was okay for the greater good. But I never considered Novalee would get caught in the crossfire.
Worse, I never thought I’d care.
But here I am, reading her like an open book, seeing her hurt, her want, her conflict, and every instinct in me is screaming to fix it to take it away and make it better.
We’re all in this mess because of me—I pushed her into it. Instead of… hell, I don’t know, talking to Nicholas? No. That would’ve been insane. Easier to drag her into this, to manipulate the situation like it’s a game of chess.
Except now it feels like we’re all losing.
I take her hand, and she twitches in surprise but doesn’t pull away. I entwine our fingers, stroking the back of her hand with my thumb.
Her gaze shifts from Nicholas to me, and she smiles.
That smile.
I’m such a goner for this girl.
It’s not just the way her lips curve or eyes soften when she looks at me. It’s the way those things make my chest tingle, my pulse race, and my entire goddamn world tilt in her direction.
And I hate it.
Not the feeling. Never the feeling.
I hate that I can’t spend every waking second with my lips on her skin, with my teeth in her thighs, pulling those sweet sounds from her that make me feel invincible.
But this show. This show . It has to go off perfectly.
If it does?
Fuck. Between her thighs, somewhere in Italy, that’s all I’ll be. That’s all I want to be. And if that doesn’t sound like the perfect escape plan, I don’t know what does.
And I’m fine to share that space between said thighs with Nicholas if that stops her from hurting so much.
Fuck, that could be hot.
As if she’s reading my dirty thoughts right off the tip of my nose, her eyes narrow, and she glares playfully at me. “What?”
“Nothing. I was just… thinking about my Mercedes.”
The fact that Nicholas not only borrowed my car—hell, let’s call it what it is, he basically stole it—but now also uses it like it’s his own should piss me off. But it doesn’t. I know I’ll get it back. Nicholas wouldn’t keep it, not forever. That’s not the kind of person he is. And deep down, I’ve always known that.
So why didn’t I know that everything with him and Levi was a misunderstanding?
Of course, Nicholas hurt Levi. I won’t deny that. But I also know Nicholas better than anyone. I should have seen that there was more to the story, that the pieces didn’t add up. Instead, I dropped him like a hot potato as he accused me of doing.
I told myself I saw what he did to Levi, saw the fallout, and that was all the truth I needed. But that was bullshit, wasn’t it? I didn’t even ask. I didn’t dig deeper. I sided with Levi, stuck with him, and let it burn Nicholas in the process.
And now? Now I can’t stop wondering what it cost us.
What it cost him .
“Koen?” Novalee’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I turn my gaze to hers, blinking as the weight of the past falls back into the shadows of the present. “You okay? You’ve been staring at that car for a while now.”
I let out a breath, shaking my head. “Yeah, just… memories.”
She doesn’t push, giving me the space to decide if I want to share. It’s a thing I’ve noticed about her, how she balances knowing when to press and when to back off. It’s unnervingly comforting.
“That car,” I say finally, nodding toward the Mercedes. “It’s not just a car. It’s… Oscar gave it to me. And Nicholas and I went out a lot in it. It was my whole pride when I was seventeen.” I huff a laugh. “And I raced it way too often. It’s the reason why I lost my license more than once. And I was just remembering how I had a conversation with Oscar in there after the first time.”
Her brows lift, curiosity flickering across her face. “The heavy kind of conversation?”
“Yeah.” I chuckle dryly. “You could say that. Oscar always had a way of cutting through the bullshit and getting to the point. He was the one who first called me out on my shit. And I guess I miss him. He would know what to do.” She leans back, resting her head against the seat, waiting for me to continue. I exhale sharply, running a hand through my hair. “I’ve been telling myself for years that I chose Levi because it was the right thing to do. That Nicholas did something unforgivable, and I was justified in walking away. But now, I don’t know. I think I didn’t want to face the truth.”
“You’re allowed to change your mind about the past, you know. To see it differently now that you have more pieces of the puzzle.”
I huff a quiet laugh, my lips twitching upward. “Leave it to you to simplify it like that.”
“It’s not simple,” she counters. “But it’s also not too late to fix it. Believe me, if I learned anything, it’s that as long as you’re alive, there is time to fix stuff.”
Her words hang in the air, and I look back at the Mercedes.
Fixing it.
Fixing us .
This is going to be hard but not impossible.
I already noticed how easy it would be to fall back into the friendship that was once everything to me. Maybe it’s time I start owning up to the shit I’ve avoided for years, starting with Nicholas, who seems to have finished his lesson with the kids because he’s walking over to us, or rather to his car.
No, my car, dammit.
His gaze lands on the Bronco, and I can see the moment he recognizes us because his posture turns, laced with an edge of tension like he’s preparing for a fight. He rounds the car, and I roll down the window.
“Your backflips were smoother a decade ago. You’re getting old, Snickers.”
A flicker of amusement crosses his face, quickly replaced by exasperation. He leans down, forearms resting on the frame. “What are you doing here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“Ever heard of texting?”
“Where’s the fun in that?”
He exhales a sharp breath, shaking his head. “And what do you want?”
“I need a few things,” I start, tilting my head toward him. “I wanted to talk to Veronica again. Make sure she knows about the show and, well, shows up. Also, Nova and Ric need Heights uniforms.”
Nicholas’s gaze slides past me to Novalee, who’s still holding my hand. Her fingers squeeze mine when his eyes find her, and I catch the slight stiffening in her posture.
Fuck. Poor Little Thief.
I squeeze her hand back in reassurance, letting my thumb trace circles on her skin. It’s subtle, but I know she feels it when her shoulders relax a bit.
Nicholas turns back to me, his jaw tightening. “I still wasn’t able to get the evidence you need.”
“You will.” I try to reassure him because I see how much it’s eating at him, and I need his confidence to pull this off. “Even with your mother, earning trust doesn’t happen overnight.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when Nicholas’s eyes flick to Novalee again.
Did I just put my foot in my mouth?
He doesn’t call me out, though. Instead, he straightens, pushing himself off the car. “Okay, follow me.”
He walk s toward the Mercedes, and I shout after him. “Hey! When will I get my car back?”
Without breaking stride, he calls over his shoulder, “It’s my turn, Copy.”
I groan, but there’s a grin tugging at my lips. Maybe fixing this will be easier than expected.
I glance at Novalee, whose eyes are still on Nicholas’s retreating figure. She’s quiet, but there’s a storm of emotions in her expression—longing, hurt, regret.
“You okay?” I ask, squeezing her hand again.
She blinks, pulling her gaze back to me. Her lips curve into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”
I nod, starting the Bronco and following Nicholas toward the Heights. He drives into the underground garage, leaving Novalee and me to park outside and walk into the main lobby. She mutters under her breath, “I don’t like this hotel.” Her arms brush close to her sides as if she’s trying to protect herself. There’s a subtle shudder that ripples through her, and I feel a pang of guilt twist in my chest.
She got shot here. And as much as I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this, I also know she’s too damn brave to back out now. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t protest, just walks in with her head held high, but the tension is obvious in her every step.
And even more guilt gnaws at me for not checking in on her enough.
I should’ve asked how her wound is healing, anything to make sure she’s okay. But no. I’ve been too wrapped up with Levi, too busy obsessing over making this new coin act in Uncle Oscar’s memory flawless for the show. Normally, illusions of this level take months to prepare, but we’ve got less than two weeks.
It’s another reason why I’ve warmed up to the idea of sharing her with my brothers. I was only able to concentrate on something else because I knew Sylus and Ric had her.
Doesn’t make my lack of care any better, though.
“How’s your arm?”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, good. It hurts a little when I move, but nothing bad at all. It just looks… not so nice right now.”
“There’s no way anything about you could look bad.” The words come out easily, and I chuckle at the way she rolls her eyes.
“Shut up.”
“It’s the truth.”
I want to grab her hand to ground both of us, but I can’t. Not here, not in Veronica’s territory, when she still thinks we’re cousins and Novalee is Nicholas’s girl. Every move we make has to feed that illusion.
We come to a stop in the middle of the lobby, tourists and guests swarming around us. My name is murmured more than once, but I ignore it, and nobody openly addresses me.
“Please don’t look like a kicked puppy when Nicholas comes back. Veronica has to think you’re madly in love.”
Her eyes flash, a hint of indignation sparking there. “I don’t look like a kicked puppy.”
I raise a brow at her, my expression making it clear I don’t buy that for a second.
“I’m fine, okay?” she insists. “I can handle this. I don’t feel anything about the matter.”
“Little liar.”
Her chin lifts, defiance written all over her face. “I thought liars avoided eye contact. I’m looking you straight in the eyes, not glancing anywhere.”
“That’s a myth. Liars want to see if their lie lands.” She blinks, thrown off for a second, and I take the opening. “Emotions always look the same.” I lean in a fraction closer. “Whether it’s a grandma, a child, a mentalist, or a little thief, the truth is written all over our faces.”
Her lips part, ready to retort, but then the elevator dings, and Nicholas steps out, his cap backward. He strides toward us, but before he gets a word out, Veronica appears from our other side, her assistant trailing behind her.
Her expression shifts from irritated to a saccharine smile in an instant. “Koen, darling! What a nice surprise. And Rosie,” she adds, her gaze sliding to Novalee. “What brings us the pleasure of your visit?” Then she turns to Nicholas, her smile turning icy. “What are you wearing?”
I glance at Nicholas’s athletic shorts and shirt as he shrugs, his tone clipped. “I was working out, Mother.”
Veronica’s disapproval radiates off her as she looks back at Novalee. “It’s an evil we must endure if we want to stay in shape, right, dear? Though he could at least make an effort to wear one of the matching outfits I bought him for Christmas.”
Novalee’s reply is quick. “I like this look on him.”
That’s when Nicholas remembers the role he has to play, reaching out and taking Novalee’s hand in his. Then he leans down to press a kiss to her temple. “You’re way too kind to me.”
Huh, that wasn’t played at all.
The stiffening of Novalee’s posture is almost imperceptible—there and gone in a split second—but I catch it. Veronica, thankfully, doesn’t seem to.
“Isn’t that cute?” she asks, her smile as fake as the diamond studs in her assistant’s ears. “Young love.”
The truth is written all over her face too.
“Speaking of dress codes,” I intercept smoothly, flashing Veronica a practiced smile. “We were actually here to ask if Rosie could borrow a Heights uniform or two.”
A flicker of suspicion crosses Veronica’s face. “What for?” she asks, but before I can answer, her expression sharpens, and the suspicion deepens. “Doesn’t she already have one from her little … escapade ?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought about that.
“No,” Nicholas says calmly, almost bored. “I brought that one back to the laundry.”
I shoot him a grateful glance, but he doesn’t acknowledge it, keeping his focus on his mother.
Veronica’s expression softens, though her eyes still linger on Novalee for a beat too long. “What do you need it for, dear?”
I force a casual chuckle, waving a hand toward Novalee. “We were talking about the joint venture, the magic hotel, and Rosie here is into fashion. She’s been thinking about how the staff uniforms should look. Something that fits the vibe but is still comfortable for them to wear. That’s why we thought it’d be helpful to get a male and female version to see what works and what doesn’t. The Harrington Heights has the best uniforms on the Strip, after all.”
For a moment, suspicion clouds her face again, but it quickly fades, replaced by a flicker of glee. She believes it. She believes we’re buying into her vision and that we’re invested. She thinks this brings her closer to what she wants.
If only she knew how much closer this brings us to what we want.
“Of course.” Veronica turns to her assistant, snapping her fingers. “Grab two standard-size uniforms and bring them here for Rosie.”
The assistant nods and hurries off, leaving Veronica free to turn her attention back to Novalee. “What an amazing idea, dear. Once you’re done with the uniforms, perhaps you could think about curtains, table settings… everything! I have a fantastic interior designer I work with for all my properties. I’m sure he’d love to collaborate with you for the joint venture.”
“Thank you, Mother.” Nicholas gives her an almost sincere smile. “It means a lot.”
Veronica reaches out, resting a manicured hand on Novalee’s forearm. The gesture is deliberate, calculated. “Of course, we’re family.”
I barely manage to suppress a scoff. Family. Right. If she only knew her perfect little world is on the brink of collapse.
Novalee, to her credit, doesn’t flinch under Veronica’s gaze or touch. Instead, she mirrors her smile. “Thank you, Veronica. That means a lot to me too.”
God, she’s good. Too good. And as much as I hate seeing her tangled in this web, I feel a flicker of pride at how flawlessly she’s playing her role. This whole damn game would crumble without her.
Here goes nothing.
“There’s something else I wanted to tell you.”
Veronica lifts an eyebrow, her sharp gaze sliding over me. “Oh?”
“We’re going to have our first show this Sunday.”
“Already?”
“Yes.” I keep my smile easy, disarming. “Levi decided it has to be something different, something bigger . To make sure everybody knows we’re back.”
Veronica laughs. “I always admired his flair for the dramatic.” But there is the briefest wrinkle next to her nose. Disgust buried deep. A lie.
“He wants to do the show on the street,” I continue, keeping my tone warm, even though I would love to hurt her for that flicker of disgust aimed at my twin alone. “Right in front of the Lane Building.”
“On the street?” she echoes as if she’s trying the idea on and already hates the fit.
“Yes.” I nod as though I’m oblivious to her discomfort. “But I wanted to ask you first if you’re okay with that. I know it would be in front of The Heights by default, and I don’t want to disrupt your daily business.”
She doesn’t like this one bit. I can see it in the way her fingers twitch slightly. But she swallows it down, painting on the good face she thinks I’m buying. “No, of course you can. Now that I know it’ll happen, I can make sure we arrange everything that has to go through the street on a different day. And since it’s Sunday, it shouldn’t be too bad. It’ll be noisy, though, won’t it? A crowd, music, maybe even speakers?”
“Probably, yes,” I agree. “But we won’t take longer than maybe thirty minutes.”
“How will those hearing aids of yours handle that, Koen? Won’t it be a little… overwhelming?” A faint smirk plays at her lips, and I recognize the calculated jab for what it is, her letting me know that she remembers my weakness.
I hold her gaze, refusing to let her see the flicker of irritation her comment stirs in me. “They’ll handle it fine.”
“Of course,” she says with a small shrug as if she didn’t just try to throw me off. “I’d expect nothing less from you. All right. I can’t wait to see this show of yours then.”
“Thank you,” I interject a little more sincerity into my voice as if I’m relieved. “I know it’s a lot to ask, but it would mean so much to Levi and me to remember Oscar this way. In a show that’s worthy of his greatness. Something he would have truly enjoyed.”
Her face shifts into a mockery of sadness, her hand reaching out to touch mine. “I understand, darling. That is so thoughtful of you both.”
“You’ll come, right?” I give her a hopeful look, then glance at Nicholas, who looks like he’s about to protest, perfectly playing his part, but she cuts him off.
“ Of course , Koen. We’ll be there. Front row.”
“Thank you.” I flash her a wide smile. “That means the world to us.” Her assistant comes back, carrying the uniforms, and I take them with a nod. “And thank you for this,” I add, lifting the garments for emphasis. “We’re so excited about this project!”
“Oh, I am as well. We should come together to discuss more details when the show’s over.” Veronica pats my forearm again before turning to her son. “Come on, Nicholas. I need to go, and you need a shower.”
“See you Sunday, Veronica.”
To your demise.
Veronica looks expectantly at Nicholas, who doesn’t miss a beat, leaning down toward Novalee. He brushes a kiss against her lips, lingering only long enough to sell it. “I’ll see you later.”
Novalee nods stiffly, a doll on autopilot.
They disappear down the hall, and we turn toward the exit without a word. It’s not until we’re back in the Bronco that she moves, her fingers ghosting over her lips.
“It’s going to be okay,” I try to reassure her. “Nicholas wasn’t lying about anything. His body language, the kiss, the promise to see you later. None of it was an act, Little Thief.”
“I need a fucking break.” She exhales sharply, her hand falling to her lap. “I was numb for years, and now every goddamn day is this avalanche of feelings. I can’t keep up anymore.”
I glance at her and see the exhaustion etched into her face. I don’t have time for a break, for anything really. But she needs one.
“What do you do to calm down?”
“Ramen, Twinkies, and MasterChef, ” she replies without hesitation.
I blink, the corner of my mouth quirking up. “ MasterChef? Really?”
“It’s my favorite,” she says defensively, crossing her arms. “Don’t judge.”
“Oh, I absolutely judge.” My grin widens. “You can’t cook for shit, and your favorite show is MasterChef ? Make it make sense.”
She huffs. “Why would I watch it if I could do it myself? That’s like watching… I don’t know, porn. You don’t need it if you’ve got the real thing.”
I bark out a laugh, and she grins at me, some of the tension in her shoulders melting away. I take her chin and turn her face up toward me. Her green eyes meet mine, and it hits me how much she’s letting me see her right now.
“Okay.” I brush a kiss against her lips. “Here’s the plan. We’ll grab some Twinkies on the way home, I’ll make you ramen, and then we’ll chill out and watch MasterChef. Sound good?”
She nods, and I can see how much she appreciates the idea.
I kiss her again before letting go and starting the engine. Her hand slips into mine as I pull out of the lot, and as her fingers tighten around mine, I realize I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her happy.