Chapter 38
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
Sylus
A sudden thud sounds behind me, making the van rock. I jump, my heart lurching in my chest as Alaric’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “We’re off, Sy.”
“Jesus, Ric. Warn a guy.” I glare at the van wall like it personally offended me.
Alaric is off to the Heights, Sparkle to the Plaza. Levi is still talking, so all I have to do right now is keep the drone steady and on him.
“Sorry,” Alaric answers with amusement in his voice.
Jinx meows a sharp protest from the crate beside me, her green eyes narrowing in disapproval. She bats the door of the crate with her paw as if to say I demand better service than this.
“You scared your damn cat.”
“She’s not a damn cat,” Alaric retorts.
“And she’s my cat, too,” Nova’s voice cuts in.
“She tolerates you,” Alaric corrects dryly.
Jinx hisses, her tail flicking. I raise an eyebrow at the screen in front of me that displays what the drone is seeing. “Well, she’s not tolerating this whole stuffed-in-a-crate thing. Tell me again why the cat couldn’t wait on the private jet with literally everything else we own? ”
A beat of silence fills the static before Alaric answers. “Because chances are, we’re not making it to that damn jet, and I’m not leaving her behind.”
I sigh dramatically, putting on a mock drawl for good measure as I reply, “You really gotta work on your rattitude, Ric. Of course, we’re gonna make it.”
“Rattitude?” Nova asks.
“Yeah, like attitude, but for rats and other small critters. Like your bossy-ass cat.”
Jinx meows again, loud and annoyed. I toe the crate slightly. “Easy, girl. I’m not the enemy here. Your daddy put you in that box.”
Alaric grumbles something under his breath that sounds suspiciously like idiot.
“Can we please focus and shut up?” Nova asks, panting slightly. “I’m going in.”
There’s a rustle of static and then Alaric’s low voice. “Already in.”
“Be safe,” I mutter, my attention locked on the screens in front of me again while I tweak the drone angles, pulling back enough to capture more of the audience.
Jinx meows again, and I shush her.
It takes fucking concentration to keep this running smoothly. The illusions, the lights, the timing, it’s all riding on me. But that’s not even the hardest part of tonight. Nope. That one’s still to come when Koen has to fly that damn car from rooftop to rooftop.
I fucking hope we all come out of this shit alive. If we don’t, I swear I’ll riot. I hate how goddamn risky this plan is, but if we’re going to bring Veronica down and put ourselves in the line of fire, we’ll damn well do it in style.
Koen’s voice comes through the speakers, pulling me back to the moment. “I will pick a few people out of the audience for a little hypnotization. What do you say?”
The crowd erupts in cheers, their energy noticeable even from where I’m sitting, secluded in the van.
“Since this show is also for you, Veronica.” Koen steps even closer to her. “Let’s make it personal. I’ll read some names right out of your mind. Look around and find some people you know. That’ll make it more exciting, don’t you think?”
The crowd cheers, obviously liking that idea, but my focus stays locked on Veronica. For the briefest moment, her polished mask slips. She catches herself quickly, her poker face sliding back into place as she tilts her head slightly, giving Koen a pointed look. “I told you, Koen, I’m not interested in being hypnotized.”
“And you won’t be,” he assures her. “All I need is a little touch, just my fingertip on your forehead, and I’ll pluck the names right out of your head. May I?”
He lifts his hand slightly like he’s already weaving a spell. The tension in the air thickens as Veronica hesitates. Then, her gaze shifts briefly to Levi, standing behind her.
I’ve been constantly muting the twin who isn’t talking to the audience so I know the microphone won’t catch it, but we all hear it over the earpiece when Levi leans in and whispers. “Come on, this will be fun. You know we wouldn’t do anything that could harm you.”
Her shoulders slightly relax before she nods, probably knowing that saying no would make her look bad in front of half of Las Vegas. “Fine.”
“All right, folks!” Levi’s voice rings out, playful and commanding all at once. “If Koen calls your name, don’t make us chase you. Come right up to the stage, no hiding! We have cameras everywhere. We know where you are.”
I sit back, my fingers adjusting the joystick to make the drone glide lower, skimming just above the audience’s heads. They duck and laugh, the perfect distraction to take the edge off Levi’s words.
But make no mistake—it was a warning.
I’ve already clocked all three of the bastards we need, and I was fucking relieved to see them here. The text I sent this morning as Veronica was curt and to the point.
There is a show tonight in front of the Heights. I need you there.
It was her style, but who knew if they were really the lapdogs we made them out to be? For all we knew, they could’ve cut the leash.
But here they are.
Loyal to the end, or maybe too afraid to be anywhere else.
Koen steps closer to Veronica and places his finger on her forehead, his other hand outstretched toward the audience as if drawing invisible threads from the air.
Veronica is still smiling, but there’s a stiffness to her posture, her shoulders drawn back a little too tightly.
“Let’s see what we’ve got.” Koen’s fingers twitch slightly, his free hand moving theatrically. “Harold Foster.”
Veronica stiffens even more.
Yeah, bitch. It’s going down.
I turn the drone to focus on the human Band-Aid of a man. Foster appears surprised but then saunters toward Veronica and the twins. Beneath that beige suit and well-rehearsed smirk, he’s nothing but a coward who sells sex like poker chips.
When I first hacked his cloud to gather evidence, I saw his work up close and the fallout of the numbers he treats like inventory. He’s fucking sick.
I spent weeks piecing it all together, finding patterns in payments, coded schedules, and transportation logs. When I connected the dots, Ezra took the intel to the police. We intercepted some of his shipments and saved the girls before they disappeared into whatever nightmare he had planned for them.
We were able to stop a handful of his operations, and a few of his lackeys ended up behind bars. But it didn’t take long for Foster to catch on. He started using proxies, erasing his tracks, and moving faster than we could anticipate. Every time we thought we had him pinned, he slipped through the cracks in the law.
And the girls suddenly were never where they were supposed to be. The police showed up to empty warehouses or fake addresses, and Foster always got away, smirking as if untouchable.
My fingers tighten on the controls until the plastic creaks under the pressure while Foster’s gaze flits over the crowd like he’s still the one holding all the cards.
Not tonight, asshole.
Veronica shifts on her heels, and her eyes narrow ever so slightly, tracking Foster as he approaches them. “Koen, what—”
“Ah, there he is, amazing. Let’s see who’s next.” Koen’s brow furrows in exaggerated concentration, playing to the crowd as he touches Veronica’s forehead again. “Marcus Blackwood.”
The crowd parts, murmuring as Blackwood makes his way to the stage, everything about him calculated, dangerous.
His reputation isn’t just whispers in dark alleys. He’s Veronica’s enforcer, her blunt instrument, sure, but he’s far from stupid. As he strides toward the stage, the way his eyes sweep the crowd makes my skin crawl. It’s like he’s already scanning for exits, threats, and weak points. He’s never unprepared. Never complacent.
Until tonight.
Veronica’s mask cracks further. She’s not even trying to hide the tension radiating off her now, and her gaze flits briefly to Nicholas, who is still standing at the edge of the crowd, watching but offering no reaction.
“Thank you for joining us,” Koen greets vaguely in Blackwood’s direction. “Let’s see who else will have the pleasure.” Veronica steps back, not letting Koen touch her again, but he tilts his head, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he listens to the imagined whispers of the ether. He flicks his wrist with a flourish. “Richard Belmont.”
I turn the drone again to capture Belmont’s wide eyes.
Yeah , fucker.
I should fuck you up for daring to touch my Sparkle.
“Koen, what is this about?” Veronica hisses, putting her palm over the microphone she’s holding.
Her eyes follow Belmont as he approaches as if willing him to disappear back into the crowd.
Koen shrugs innocently. “Those were the names that were on top of your head.”
I let the drone hover over the scene, catching every detail of her reaction. Veronica’s forced smile twitches at the edges, and I can almost hear her thoughts scrambling to assess what Koen is doing and how much of a threat it poses.
My lips curl into a grim smile. “Gotcha.”
Koen’s arms spread as he addresses the crowd. “Everybody, a round of applause for our brave volunteers!” The audience erupts into cheers, oblivious to the tension.
“Let’s loosen up, shall we?” Levi calls to the crowd. “We’re here to have some fun, right?” He grins as he throws an arm around Blackwood’s massive shoulders, eliciting a glare from him that Levi ignores, but somehow Pebble looks a little nervous.
I know Ezra’s hyperventilating right now.
Belmont adjusts his tie, and Foster shifts nervously on his feet, while Veronica watches them all, her smile now razor-thin, eyes darting from them to Koen, trying to decipher the game.
Oh, she knows she’s fucked. And soon, so will the crowd.
We’ve set the stage perfectly. The right words. The right lies. We got them here.
Now, all that’s left…
… is to make them fall.
“Gentlemen,” Koen addresses the three men. “Tonight, we’re going to show everyone here just how powerful the human mind can be. You’re about to experience a little hypnotization.”
The crowd cheers, and Koen lets the sound swell before continuing. “It’s simple, it’s harmless, and I promise, it’s going to be fun.”
Foster takes a step back, shaking his head. “Nope. No way. This is all bullshit.”
“Ah, fuck,” I mutter to myself.
“What’s wrong?” Sparkle whispers. I don’t like that she’s talking while she’s supposed to be stealthy.
I need to keep my reactions to myself.
Koen doesn’t miss a beat. He steps in front of Foster, cutting off his retreat. His smile is gone, replaced with an intense focus that makes even me sit up straighter.
“Where do you think you’re going, Harold?” Koen asks like a hunter cornering his prey.
“I said this is bullshit,” Foster scoffs, glancing at the crowd like he’s searching for backup. “I’m outta here.”
Koen raises one hand, his index finger extended. “ Look .”
Harold hesitates for a split second before doing as Koen asked, and right when he does, Koen grabs Harold’s shoulder and taps his forehead with two fingers. “ Sleep, ” Koen commands, his voice an octave deeper than usual.
Foster slumps, his torso folding forward as if a string inside him has gone slack. Koen keeps a steady hand on his shoulder, holding him upright for the audience.
I’ve seen him do this a thousand times, but it’s still impressive as fuck.
“When you wake up, you’ll feel fine. Completely normal. But your feet will be glued to the street, unable to move no matter how hard you try…” Koen pauses for effect as if the commands need time to settle, then adds softly, “ Wake up. ”
Foster jerks upright, rapidly blinking as Koen steps back, his smile returning as he addresses him. “So, Harold, do you still think this is bullshit? That it doesn’t work?”
Foster blinks a few more times, his bravado clearly shaken, but he still answers, “Yeah, it’s bullshit.”
“All right, fair enough.” Koen motions to the crowd. “Go ahead, leave.”
Foster scoffs as he tries to step forward, but his feet stay planted firmly on the pavement. He tries again, but he’s all flailing arms and awkwardly bent knees.
I chuckle. This is gold.
The crowd erupts into laughter, the sound swelling as Foster looks down at his feet in confusion.
“Sylus?” Sparkle whispers again in concern, and I realize I never answered her.
“All good, baby. Koen has it under control. You better be safe over there.”
“What the hell,” Foster mutters as he continues to struggle, but it’s no use. He’s stuck.
Koen grins and extends his arm toward Harold. “A round of applause for Harold, the skeptic-turned-believer!”
The crowd roars in approval, clapping and cheering.
“All right, fine. It’s not bullshit.” Foster looks up at Koen, his face flushed with embarrassment. “Now release me.”
Koen nods, stepping forward and lightly tapping Foster’s forehead. “There we go. Your feet are free. Go ahead, take a step.”
Foster takes a cautious step forward, his face still red as the audience laughs and claps. “Thanks for being a good sport, Harold.” Koen pats him on the shoulder. “Now, back in line, please.”
Foster shuffles back into place with his head bent, and Koen turns his attention back to the other two men, his smile widening. “Shall we continue?”
He moves smoothly down the line, then takes Blackwood’s wrist in one hand, gives it a sharp but controlled pull before he can protest, and taps his forehead. “ Sleep. ”
Blackwood’s body complies, and Koen steadies him until he’s sure he stands on his own. He repeats the routine again with Belmont, then Foster, and the audience watches in awe, the murmurs of disbelief and amazement swelling with each man Koen puts under.
“All of you feel good, you’re safe,” he commands to them all. “You love to be here, love talking to me, and everything that comes out of your mouth will be the truth.”
Veronica starts backing away, her smile gone. Levi tracks her, staying close and acting casual about it as he lightly rests his hand on her arm, sensing she’s preparing to bolt.
Koen steps in front of Belmont, and the crowd goes quiet, anticipation building for what he’ll do next.
“Richard, where do you know Veronica from?”
Belmont’s jaw works slightly. “We fuck.”
A ripple of shocked laughter runs through the crowd as Koen theatrically raises his brows. “Okaaay.”
“Fucking told you all along,” I muse before pressing my lips together, remembering to keep my commentary to myself.
Veronica actually looks embarrassed and tries to pull her arm from Levi’s grip, but he only holds her tighter.
“Did we just stumble over your confession, Veronica, love?” Levi asks with a grin, making the crowd chuckle until Belmont’s voice cuts through again.
“She used my casinos to launder millions of dollars. Cleaned dirty money through high-end clients. Made me rich. Made her richer.”
“Wow.” Koen whistles softly, shaking his head. “You guys really know how to network, huh?” His chuckle is light, but his eyes flick to Veronica, who looks as though she might combust on the spot. “That was so not what I was looking for. So, let’s try the next one.”
I snicker to myself.
Sure, it wasn’t.
Koen moves to Foster, and the crowd holds their collective breaths as he repeats the question. “Harold, tell us about Veronica Harrington. Where do you know her from?”
Foster’s voice is flat, devoid of emotion, but the words come out clearly. “I oversee the casinos for her. Manage the books, keep the profits flowing.”
Koen smiles at Veronica, who paints a smile back onto her face and looks almost a little relieved.
“That sounds fun. What else do you do?”
“I find the girls,” he replies immediately. “The ones who’ve got nowhere else to turn. I put them to work, and she takes the biggest cut.”
The crowd gasps, the sound rippling through the air like a shockwave. Koen’s eyebrows shoot up, and he lets out a nervous laugh, glancing toward the audience. “Well, that’s… unexpected.” He rubs the back of his neck as if genuinely uncomfortable. He shoots Veronica a sheepish smile, his eyes probably catching the way Levi’s grip on her arm tightens even further. “Let’s move on, shall we?”
God, he’s selling this so damn well.
I almost forgot just how good both of them are under the spotlight. It’s been so fucking long since I’ve seen them like this.
It’s a shame there won’t be any more shows after tonight—no matter how this plays out.
Veronica’s mask is cracked, no pretend smile in sight as she tries to take another step away, but Levi tugs on her arm as he whispers to her, “Don’t. Stay.”
It sounds a lot like a command, and damn, she looks like she’s not giving a fuck about that as she narrows her eyes on him.
“Well, maybe I’m a little out of practice.” Koen’s laugh is light for the crowd.
“I’m sorry.” Levi’s voice is a soft murmur for Veronica, while his smile is still charming for the audience. “This wasn’t our intention. But it’s all right. We’ve got you. Give Koen time to fix this.”
Oh, he’s not going to fix it. He’s going to finish it.
She stays rooted, and I know it’s not because she trusts us, God, no , but because the game is still in play. Running now would confirm her guilt in front of everyone, including the press and the police who are part of the audience for more reasons than one.
Her gaze flicks to Blackwood, her panic sharpening as the realization dawns.
Blackwood is the nail in the coffin.
“I think we can all agree things have gotten a little… heavy.” Koen pauses for effect, gesturing toward the three men still frozen in their trances. “And we can’t have that, right? Gentlemen, you’re all chickens now. And when I snap my fingers, you’re going to show everyone just how much of a chicken you truly are.” With a flourish, Koen raises his hand and snaps his fingers. “ Wake up. ”
Blackwood’s arms immediately shoot up to his sides, mimicking wings, and he starts strutting across the stage, clucking loudly. The crowd bursts into laughter, shock and dismay replaced by pure amusement. Foster joins him, flapping his arms and letting out a series of loud, ridiculous crows. By the time Richard Belmont follows suit, it’s utter chaos as all three men strut, flap, and cluck like overgrown birds.
Fucking hell.
“Remind me never to cross you, Koen,” I murmur, catching the small smirk that forms on his lips in response.
Levi doubles over laughing, but when he finally straightens, he shakes his head. “ Koen ,” he chides.
“What?” Koen turns to him, his expression the picture of wide-eyed innocence. “Would you rather I had turned them into pigeons?”
The audience erupts into renewed laughter, and Levi smirks. “Obviously.”
Koen lets the laughter settle before raising his voice again. “Okay, enough of that. This is getting boring, don’t you think? I bet you’re all wondering what’s up with your card now.”
The crowd yells some yes and please, and he snaps his fingers again. The three men freeze mid-strut, and he’ll keep them frozen like this for the police to pick up later.
Levi leans in close to Veronica, his tone soothing as if this was just an embarrassing hiccup. “See? Everything’s fine,” he whispers. “Play along, and the crowd will forget all about what they said.”
She glares at him, her hands balled into fists. She didn’t believe for a second that we’d spin this back in her favor, and now, she doesn’t know what to make of it. But she nods anyway, clinging to the pretense because it’s all she has fucking left.
“I need your handsome son for this one, Veronica.” Levi flashes his trademark grin to the crowd again. “Would you be so kind as to lend him to me, please?”
She gives him a tight smile. “Of course.”
I fly the camera drone in front of Harrington, who looks momentarily caught off guard but steps to the others without protest, greeted by a wave of applause.
“Look at the good boy playing his part,” I mock, making Koen huff out a laugh and Nova snort.
Harrington moves with his hands tucked casually into his pockets as he joins Levi.
“Thank you, Nicholas.” Levi gives him a friendly clap on the shoulder before he turns back to Veronica, producing the deck of cards he used a few moments ago from seemingly nowhere. With a flick of his wrist, the cards fans out. “Veronica, I want you to look through these cards as I run through them. Tell me if you see that they’re all different.”
She nods, her eyes scanning the cards as Levi flicks through them, holding them at eye level. “Yes, they’re all different,” she confirms.
“Perfect. Now, as I go through these myself, I want you to pick one card. Don’t say it out loud. Just think of it, hold it in your mind. Did you get one?”
Veronica’s gaze flicks toward the deck, and she nods. “Yes.”
Levi grins in approval as he pivots to address Harrington. “So, of all the cards in this deck, you have no idea which one your mother chose, right?”
He shakes his head. “I have no idea.”
“Amazing. Now, you’re going to pull one card from this deck, please.” Levi fans the cards out again and offers them to Harrington, who plucks a card from the spread.
“Veronica, dear…” Levi turns to her with an exaggerated flourish, “… can you tell us the card you saw? Say it out loud for everyone.”
“Ace of Hearts,” she announces.
“An Ace of Hearts, you say? Well, wouldn’t it be impressive if your son held your card right now?”
“It would be,” she agrees.
“All right, Nicholas, the moment of truth.” Levi gestures toward him. “Show everyone the card you have in your hand.”
Nicholas flips the card over, holding it up.
It’s a Three of Spades.
The crowd bursts into laughter, the tension breaking as Levi dramatically slaps a hand to his forehead. “Uh-oh.”
Koen lets out an exaggerated sigh, crossing his arms. “Nothing is going as planned tonight.”
The crowd chuckles but looks around at each other, believing that this is all a big shit show.
Which it is, but a planned one.
“I’m such a dummy.” Levi snickers, shaking his head as the laughter subsides. “But wait, here’s the thing. Nicholas isn’t holding your card, Veronica.” He grins mischievously, his eyes scanning the audience. “Because everyone else is. Folks, check the cards you’ve hidden on yourselves. Go ahead, pull them out. Do any of you have Veronica’s card, the Ace of Hearts?”
There’s a ripple of movement as people dig into their pockets, jackets, and purses before shouts and gasps punctuate the air.
“It’s an Ace of Hearts!” someone yells, holding up their card.
“Mine is too!” another voice joins in.
“Ladies, gents, and nonbinary friends, please,” Levi beams, raising his hands. “Hold your Ace of Hearts up high! Show me your cards!”
The audience bursts into chatter and laughter as dozens of people hold their cards aloft, each one an Ace of Hearts, and I let the drone fly over the sea of them.
It’s fucking impressive.
“And that, my friends, is what we call magic.” Levi grins. “Please keep the card up in the air. Don’t put it away. Can you do that for me?”
The crowd is eating it up. To them, it really is magic.
But it’s a fucking chess game, every move calculated, every piece carefully placed. They’re laughing, cheering, blissfully unaware that the true target of tonight’s spectacle isn’t them. It’s the woman standing next to Levi, looking not as nervous as she did moments ago but still somewhat aware that this night has gotten out of her hands entirely.
Alaric’s voice crackles through the comms. “I’m in position.”
I tap my earpiece. “Hold.”
A soft thud from Jinx’s crate has me glancing down and muting my mic to talk to her. “Patience isn’t your strong suit, huh?”
She gives me a judgmental look like I’m dragging this out for fun.
“Yeah, yeah.” I smirk. “Go ahead and tell me how you’d run this better.” Another lazy blink before Jinx levels me with a look of the kind of silent superiority only cats and Levi can pull off.
Glancing back at the monitor, I watch the crowd waving their cards like banners, and I feel a flicker of satisfaction.
This is only the first crack in Veronica’s foundation.
And by the end of tonight, we’ll make damn sure it crumbles.