Chapter 34 #3
“All you have to do is make sure her laptop or desktop is turned on. Plug it in and let it do its thing. It only needs to be in there for one minute. After that, I’ll be able to get into her system and search for the evidence myself.
You’ll have to time a minute, then you’ll pull it back out, and that’s it.
You can walk right out of there. Simple. ”
I stare at the unassuming USB in my hand. It seems impossible that something so small could hold the power to bring her down. “One minute,” I repeat under my breath to myself.
“One minute,” Sylus echoes, his arm slipping back around me. “You can do this.”
Levi and Koen exchange another glance, this one longer. Koen eventually sighs, running a hand through his hair. “We’re putting a lot of trust in this plan, Sy. You know that.”
Sylus grins, pulling me a little closer. “Yeah, I know. But we’ve got the right person for the job.”
I meet Koen’s eyes, the certainty in Sylus’s words steadying me. Koen’s gaze softens, and he nods, a subtle smile playing on his lips. “All right.”
“Get ready, baby.” Sylus presses a kiss to my temple before whispering, “We’re gonna make some magic.”
It’s then I notice a dress hanging on the back of the front door—midnight black and adorned with delicate feathers that trail down the sleeves and hem.
Next to it, on a smaller hanger, is a matching mask with intricate detailing and even more feathers.
The sight of it almost takes my breath away, and I’m so drawn to it that I wiggle out of Sylus’s grip to inspect it further.
“And what is this?” I ask, letting my fingers graze the soft feathers.
Levi comes to stand beside me, leaning against the doorframe with an easy smile. “That, Little Bird, is your attire for tomorrow. Or rather, tonight. The Desert Bloom Gala.”
“It’s a masquerade?”
“Yeah, this time around.” Koen lets out a huff from where he’s sprawled on the couch, and I look over at him as I continue stroking the feathers.
“Veronica hosts the gala every year, claiming it’s to raise money to preserve the desert, but it’s mostly a way for her to flaunt her influence and pretend she’s got a heart.
Every year has a theme, and this time it’s masks.
Last year was wild, which ended up being some rich people’s Halloween party with folks dressed as animals. ”
“This is definitely a step up from that fiasco.” Levi shudders, visibly amused at the memory. “No lion costumes this time.”
I let my gaze linger on the dress, already feeling a bit daunted by the whole affair. “So… why do you guys even go to her parties?”
Levi and Koen exchange a glance. There’s a flicker of something darker in Koen’s expression before he speaks.
“We didn’t go. Not after she put Oscar in jail.
But she’s making an effort now, or at least that’s what she’d have us believe.
Tried to play nice at Oscar’s funeral, said she didn’t want any bad blood, and wanted to ‘support us through the loss.’ ” He scoffs, his eyes hard.
“So now we’re reconnecting in hopes of getting closer.
That’s why she was at our birthday party. ”
Levi shrugs, his gaze shifting to me. “Keep your enemies close and all that.”
I turn back to the dress and mask, taking in every detail. Suddenly, it feels real, like I’m standing on the edge of a high-stakes performance with no room for missteps.
“Speaking of.” Levi crosses his arms, eyes flicking over me. “How’s it going with Nicholas?”
“I think he’s… hooked,” I hedge as I try to keep my real feelings off my face—the ones I don’t want to name.
“Or close to it. I’m getting him to trust me more.
I just need a little more time, but…” I pause, considering my next words carefully.
“Honestly, I don’t think he’s as bad as you think he is. Maybe he… changed?”
“What?” Levi lets out a short laugh. “You think the prince of Vegas is only a poor, misunderstood boy?” He shakes his head. “People don’t simply change, Little Bird. Not when they’ve grown up in a world like ours.”
“I don’t know,” I murmur, glancing at my feet as I try not to let Levi’s words hit as hard as they threaten to. Because maybe I am being na?ve. I’ve only been part of their world for about five minutes, after all. “I don’t think he’s the guy he pretends to be.”
Koen is quiet, his expression thoughtful as he glances between Levi and me.
“Nicholas was my best friend before all this,” he says quietly.
“He used to hate everything that came with the Harrington name. The responsibility, the image.” His gaze grows distant for several long moments as he adds, “I thought, after everything… that he’d chosen to embrace it. ”
“I don’t think he wants any part of it,” I say, but the growing doubt starts to gnaw at me.
“Maybe.” Koen sighs, looking over at Levi, whose good humor has evaporated since we started this subject.
“Or maybe he’s playing you as much as you’re playing him.
Who knows?” He shrugs. “But we need you to get close to him for the evidence, not for his sake. He doesn’t matter in the big picture.
” Koen tilts his head, giving me a pointed look.
“What did you tell him about us? Since he saw you with us, I assume you had to come up with something.”
“Nothing too complicated.” I reach out, idly twirling one of the feathers on the dress between my fingers, letting its softness distract me for a second.
“Just that I’m your long-lost cousin, back in town and working for you as your personal assistant.
” I shrug, tracing my fingertip along the feather’s edge, the delicate ridges tickling my skin. “Oh, and that I hate your guts.”
Sylus’s laugh cuts through the tension expertly, echoing loudly from where he’s sprawled out on the floor, still popping pieces of sushi into his mouth. He’s clearly not as personally offended by this subject as the twins are. “Now that’s believable.”
Koen stands from the couch and approaches me, a smile ghosting across his lips. His fingers lift my chin, his thumb grazing my jaw in a way that’s maddeningly gentle. “Do you really hate my guts, Little Thief?” His voice has a fine edge of challenge I feel all the way down my spine.
I arch an eyebrow but say nothing. He would see right through any lie anyway.
Koen’s thumb traces along my skin, sending a subtle shiver through me as his lips quirk, that smirk sharpening. Then his thumb pauses, his fingers still holding me in place, as if he’s testing how long I’ll let him linger there.
When I don’t move or speak, he leans in, his lips brushing the corner of my mouth in a tease of connection, just enough to leave me wanting more. “That’s what I thought.”
As he pulls back, smirk still in place, I find myself questioning everything.
My reasons.
My loyalties.
And even my ability to keep my heart locked up tight.
I’m so fucked.