Chapter 40
CHAPTER FORTY
Koen
The crowd stretches out before me, a living, breathing beast fed by our illusions, our charm, and our lies.
They’re dazzled, captivated, utterly under our spell. And yet, I’m standing here, holding this red envelope, feeling the noose tightening, not around my neck but around hers.
The woman who made this city hers through deals in the shadows, the kind that reeks of blood and greed. The woman who stood there, calm and untouchable, while Oscar died at her hand.
My hands tighten around the envelope, the edge digging into my palm. I should feel triumphant, shouldn’t I? We’ve pulled off every step of the plan so far. The show is flawless. The crowd is eating out of our hands. The drones are in place, capturing everything.
Oscar would’ve loved this moment. He would’ve relished seeing the truth finally come to light, watching as her empire crumbled under the weight of her sins. But he’s not here. And no matter how carefully we’ve planned, no matter how perfectly we execute, nothing will bring him back .
My gaze flicks to Levi, who’s soaking up the crowd’s energy like a spotlight, grinning like the charming devil he is, while Pebble flutters her wings on his shoulder. His confidence is unshakable, but I know him too well to miss the edge in his smile.
I let my eyes drift to Veronica. She’s good, I’ll give her that. Even now, she’s keeping it together, but I can see the slight shift in her stance as if she’s bracing for the blow she knows is coming.
The envelope feels heavier in my hand, as though it’s not only paper inside but the weight of every decision we’ve made to get here.
Because this is it —the moment that will either cement her downfall or blow up spectacularly in our faces.
I exhale slowly and glance at the crowd again, at the sea of faces.
They have no idea what’s about to hit them.
And neither does she.
The thought steadies me as I step forward.
For Oscar.
For us.
For every person who’s suffered under her rule.
It’s time.
“I figured it out.”
“Oh, did you now?” Levi glances at me over his shoulder. “I’m a little occupied here, brother. We’re writing history.”
The crowd’s still holding up their Ace of Hearts cards, chuckling at our banter.
“ I am writing history. Veronica…” I turn to her with an air of exaggerated calm. “Are you ready?”
Her smile is tight. “Of course.”
I take a deliberate step toward her, the envelope still in my hand, and turn my focus to the crowd. “Her confession is that she killed Oscar Lane. ”
Gasps come from the crowd while my words seem to hang in the air.
“Koen.” Veronica’s face pales, her lips parting in shock. “What are you even saying? That’s not true. I would never—”
“Oh, you would. ” I don’t give her a chance to finish. “And you did.”
I tear open the envelope and pull out the paper inside, holding it up for everyone to see. The drone descends to hover in front of me, broadcasting the page onto the massive screens above.
I killed Oscar Lane.
In her handwriting, clear as day, and it’s signed.
The crowd erupts, a cacophony of gasps, murmurs, and cries of disbelief.
“I didn’t write that. It’s a lie!” Veronica’s panic is unmistakable as she shoots Nicholas a look that conveys how much she’s feeling betrayed by him right now. “That’s not—”
“Everyone!” Levi’s grin widens as he addresses the audience. “Keep your cards up and do me a favor. Shake them for me. Shake them hard!”
The crowd obeys, the sea of cards rippling like a living thing, and gasps and murmurs start to sound as writing begins to appear on their cards, shimmering into view like ink rising to the surface of water. The same words, in the same handwriting, on every single card.
I killed Oscar Lane.
“Lies!” Veronica’s breath hitches audibly as she takes a step back. “You just want to ruin me.” She tries to turn, but Nicholas’s hands come down firmly on her upper arms, holding her in place, making her head snap toward him. “Nicholas, let me go!”
“I don’t think so, Mother .”
I step past them to Marcus Blackwood, still standing frozen in his trance, next to the other two idiots.
“Marcus,” I address him, making the crowd go silent. “Tell us how you know Veronica Harrington.”
Blackwood’s head tilts, his voice monotone and devoid of hesitation. “I get rid of people for her. She tells me who, and I make it happen. No questions.”
The crowd gasps again.
“Did you kill Oscar Lane for her?”
“Yes. She wanted it to look like a heart attack.”
The uproar is instant. Gasps followed by shouts and cries.
I don’t even flinch. “What did you do?”
“I tampered with his meds. Switched out his beta blockers for something that caused a cardiac arrest. Almost undetectable.”
The words slam into me, but I don’t react, not outwardly. At least now I know. Now I know how it happened.
But there’s no relief in the clarity, only a dull ache that spreads through me.
I’m sorry, Uncle Oscar.
I exhale slowly, forcing the grief back into the box I keep it in, and glance at Levi, who’s staring at Blackwood with his hands flexing at his sides as if he’s just short of strangling him.
“He’s lying!” Veronica shrieks again. “He put him under a fucking spell!”
Levi takes the piece of paper I’d pulled from the envelope from me. His smile is sharp as he addresses her. “Right. All lies.”
With a dramatic flourish, he tears the paper in half. But before the pieces can fall, flames burst from his hands, consuming them instantly. In their place, he holds a newspaper, which he unfolds slowly, holding it up so the headline is for everyone to see.
Veronica Harrington Sentenced to Life for Murder, Money Laundering, and Human Trafficking.
“The truth always comes out.” Levi’s voice cuts through the silence that followed the gasps.
“No!” Veronica’s eyes lock on the paper just as it bursts into flames, and the sound of wings fills the air again, even louder than the murmur of the crowd.
Dozens of pigeons fly over us while thin sheets of paper flutter downward like leaves from their claws. People stretch their hands out, plucking the falling notes from the air.
Each is a piece of evidence—a text message, email, ledger, photograph. Veronica’s name is splashed across them all.
Chaos spreads as I hear some people read aloud.
“Make sure the books look legit.”
“Get rid of him. Permanently. No loose ends.”
“Three million dollars wired to an offshore account. Details attached.”
The murmurs swell louder and louder. Phones light up as people snap photos and record the evidence.
“Holy shit, this is real!” someone yells.
People duck to gather the papers on the ground, the crowd becoming desperate for a piece of the scandal.
“Security!” Veronica screams for her personnel, who are somewhere in front of the Heights, but the crowd is too thick for them to push through.
Phones are already dialing, people are live-streaming, and the fury of public opinion ignites like wildfire.
As it fucking should.
“That’s what I call a showstopper,” Levi murmurs, loud enough for me to catch through the earpiece.
Sylus’s voice buzzes through. “Ric, your turn.”
In an instant, Harrington Heights plunges into darkness, making murmurs of confusion sweep through the crowd, but before anyone can process the blackout, another drone glides into position in front of the building, transforming the facade of the hotel into a screen that lights up in sync with the Lane Building, and showing CCTV footage Sylus pulled from Belmont’s office.
The grainy images show Veronica seated at the head of a conference table. Blackwood sits to her right, Foster to her left, and Belmont leans back in his chair at the far end, a cigar between his fingers.
The audio kicks in, the sound startling in the silence that has overtaken the crowd.
“This client is difficult,” Foster states. “We need leverage, something to keep him on our leash while he moves the money.”
“Leverage is easy.” Veronica’s lips curl. “Why don’t you just do it?”
“Because I’m suspecting that he could talk anyway,” Foster interjects. “This guy isn’t exactly loyal.”
“Then we make sure he never talks again.”
“Not a big deal,” Blackwood agrees with Veronica.
“This trafficking operation … it’s messy,” Foster warns. “Riskier than our usual setup.”
“That’s why we’re careful.” Veronica waves him off. “This guy needs to learn that we don’t just sell girls. We sell silence. Loyalty. And when that fails…” she taps a polished nail against the table. “… we clean up.”
The crowd collectively freezes as her words linger.
“Is she fucking serious?” someone yells while the murmur builds again. Phones rise higher, recording everything.
Good.
Spread the fucking word.
The screens fade to black for a moment, then a black-and-white photo of Oscar appears, the solemnity silencing the murmurs again.
And then, her voice begins to play.
“He wanted to rat me out after years together and was supposed to rot in jail for that. But no, he came back out. And I let him live, didn’t I? For three years, I let him stay in his little circle of misery, wasting away in that house and doing his stupid little magic shows.”
“This is fake, I never said that!” Veronica yells before she gets cut off by her own voice again.
“Then he started poking around where he shouldn’t. He wrote his own death sentence. He would have come for me.”
Phones flash, hands pointing to the screens as the image of Oscar fades, replaced by the now familiar note, now larger than life on both buildings.
I killed Oscar Lane.
The murmurs turn into confusion and outrage as people push closer to the epicenter of it all.
“This is absurd!” Veronica screams, thrashing against Nicholas, who holds her firmly in place. “Let me go!” Her gaze darts wildly across the crowd as if searching for an escape, but all she finds are phones and horrified faces staring back.
The picture on the screens changes again, and the drone displays the newspaper headline Levi had conjured earlier.
Veronica Harrington Sentenced to Life for Murder, Money Laundering, and Human Trafficking.
I grin when I look up at the words, satisfaction surging through me, but when I turn my gaze to the crowd again, they seem even closer.
What the fuck?
Movement turns into bodies pressing forward, each person straining to get closer, to see more, to record everything. The circle we’d held around us suddenly feels suffocating and shrinks as the mass of people closes in.
My pulse spikes as I glance around, my heart pounding at the growing chaos. It’s not just tension anymore. It’s the kind of energy that can boil over in an instant.
“Ezra,” I mutter, keeping my voice low. “What’s going on?”
“The crowd’s pressing in too much. It’s getting tight.”
“No shit, Sherlock. What do we do?”
“Stay still. Try to keep them calm. I’m cutting through, but it’s a mess out here.”
“Friends!” Levi tries to talk over the chaos, his usual charm strained but still present. “I know this is a lot, so exciting, I get it, but how about we all take a nice step back? Give us a little breathing room, yeah?”
It doesn’t help. If anything, his words seem to make people more aware of just how close they’ve come, sparking nervous energy. The panic starts small, as murmurs of discomfort, and then it spreads—a spark catching dry kindling.
I shift my focus to the trio of frozen bastards—Foster, Blackwood, and Belmont. I wanted to keep them locked in place for the cops. It would’ve been cleaner and easier to let the authorities bag them like the trash they are. But as the crush of the crowd grows, surging closer, I realize there’s no way in hell I can guarantee that they won’t get pushed and trampled.
I want them in jail, not dead.
Fuck it.
If they flee, the police will have enough evidence in their hands to track them down. And I’m not about to waste time babysitting.
With quick strides, I walk past them as I press a finger to each forehead. “ Wake up. ”
Their eyes snap back into focus, confusion morphing into panic as they take in the chaos around them.
Good luck running now, assholes.
I turn on my heel, moving back toward Levi, who’s still trying to hold the crowd’s attention, though the strain in his voice is starting to crack. “Friends, please! ”
“Ezra, move faster,” I hiss into the comms, my eyes darting over the sea of faces pressing closer as I step up to Levi, ready to pummel anyone who gets too close to him.
Veronica’s still shrieking, twisting in Nicholas’s grip, yelling for her security again.
One of the Heights security guards, who is built like a house, barrels through the throng, struggling against the press of people. His face is red, furious, and he’s shouting orders no one is listening to. Then, he pulls a gun.
The crack of the shot fired into the air is deafening.
The crowd scatters like a bomb went off—people start ducking, screaming, and shoving into each other.
I glance at Levi, who’s still holding it together as Pebble flutters anxiously on his arm. He strokes over her wings and murmurs, “Get out of here.”
Pebble takes off in a flurry of feathers, disappearing into the dark above us not a second too soon, as the chaos swallows us whole, bodies pressing in from every side.
“Fuck.” I grip Levi’s arm and pull his back to my chest. “Ezra, where the hell are you?”
“Hold on,” Ezra barks. “I’m pushing through. Just… shit, stay put!”
“Guys, you okay?” Nova asks anxiously.
Veronica screams again, trying to wrench free from Nicholas just as the guard finally breaks through to her. He doesn’t hesitate and clocks Nicholas hard across the face.
Fucking hell.
Nicholas staggers, letting go of her, and the guard grabs Veronica, shoving his way back into the throng with her. His shouts rise above the chaos as he presses forward, one arm around her and the hand with the gun raised above his head. “I have a gun! Move, or I’ll use it!”
The crowd panics harder, pressing tighter, and I swear it’s as if we’re suffocating. People are shoving past, some falling to the ground and scrambling back up, and it’s all I can do to keep Levi close. My arm is around his shoulders, and I shove space around us as much as I can while hands keep darting out for us.
“Don’t touch me!” Levi snaps, his voice sharp with pain as a fan claws at his neck, her nails leaving red scrapes in their wake.
My pulse spikes, fury and panic crashing together. “Ezra!” I shout into the comms. “We’re in the middle of a fucking mass panic, and people are grabbing Dove. I can’t hold them all off!”
“What the fuck?” comes from Alaric.
“I see you!” Sylus cuts in, frantic. “I’m trying to drive to you, but these people won’t fucking move!”
A faint honking follows his words, but the roar of the chaos around us swallows it.
Nicholas presses through the bodies, stumbling back to us, his lip split and blood trickling down his chin. He stands in front of Levi and reaches out to grab my shoulders, anchoring us together and helping me shield him as the crush gets tighter. A woman reaches between us and grabs one of Levi’s necklaces, pulling it off him and making the pearls scatter on the ground.
Fuck. This is getting more dangerous by the second.
“Veronica’s gone,” Nicholas gasps. “I’m sorry.”
“You’re fine.” I don’t care for anything right now besides getting us all out of here.
“I’m almost there!” Ezra’s voice comes through again, louder. “Hold on!”
The crowd feels endless, the weight of it unbearable as more people shove and scream around us. Nicholas grits his teeth, one of his arms locking around Levi’s waist to keep him upright.
“Ezra, what the fuck are we doing?” I hiss.
“Getting out alive,” Ezra snaps. And then, like a battering ram, he bursts through the crowd, his shoulders plowing space for him as he comes to stand beside us. He reaches between Nicholas and me and pulls Levi to his chest as my twin lets out a relieved sob.
Nicholas and I brace against the crush as we help Ezra shield Levi. But the panic is still swallowing us, the weight of bodies threatening to bury us under the chaos.
“Someone fucking talk to me,” Novalee sounds frantic. “Are you okay?”
“All good, Little Thief.” I bite out. “Just a little mass panic.”
Ezra glances over his shoulder, his face grim. “We need to get out now, or we’re going to be buried under these people.”
No shit.
But looking at the chaos around us, I don’t see how we’re going to pull it off.