Chapter 16 #3
“I…” Koen starts, then appears as if he’s thinking it through. “No, we don’t need them for this, they know, and I guess they need some time to talk stuff out.”
“Or rather fuck things out,” Sylus murmurs in my ear, making me bite my lips to suppress a laugh.
Koen steeples his fingers as his gaze sweeps over everyone in the room. “Okay, let’s lay it out. The plan we had was Ric’s, and it was perfect. Almost. But we’re going to need to adjust it now, refine it, and add a few new elements to incorporate the evidence we still need regarding Oscar’s death.”
“I’ll make sure to gather that.” Nicholas raises a brow, settling back into the couch. “But how about you start with what the plan was in the first place?”
Koen glances at Ace, who nods, signaling for him to proceed. “A Christmas show. We had Veronica, Belmont, Harold Foster, and Marcus Blackwood in the audience, and we—”
“Wait,” I interrupt, already lost. “Veronica and Belmont are clear, but who are the other two?”
“Foster oversees the casinos Veronica owns,” Koen explains. “But he’s also involved in prostitution, the kind that’s not consensual. Veronica is his biggest stakeholder.”
“My mother’s into sex trafficking?” Nicholas’s shock is palpable. “What the actual fuck?”
Sylus lets out a low whistle. “Delightful, isn’t she?”
I shoot him a warning look. “Sylus…”
“Sorry,” he mutters, though the smirk on his face betrays him.
“And Blackwood,” Koen continues. “Is her enforcer. The guy who makes people disappear. Firearms, knives, you name it. We suspect he’s the one who killed Oscar.”
“Wait, no. He’s the head of her security,” Nicholas protests.
“Sure…” Ace shrugs, his tone flat, “… he’s that too.”
“Fuck,” Nicholas mutters under his breath.
“I went out and found each of them the day the show was supposed to happen.” Koen picks up where he left off. “I hypnotized them and made them attend. That almost fell apart when I couldn’t locate Belmont in time.”
Sylus waves a hand. “That won’t happen again. We’ve got his private number now, thanks to Sparkle here, and I’ll locate him.” He grins at me, his arm still loosely around my waist.
“No, it can’t happen again,” Ace shakes his head.
“That part of the plan was way too risky, and we all knew it. Who knows if they aren’t suspicious now?
Asking themselves why they were at the show in the first place.
We thought we could get them there and fuck the consequences, but now we’re living the consequences.
I don’t want to bet on that working a second time. ”
“Fine…” Koen raises a brow, “… but how do you plan to get them to the show? These people aren’t stupid and won’t just show up when we send them an invitation.”
“I’ll figure it out,” Ace replies, nodding to himself. “But hypnotizing them into coming again is the last resort. It leaves us too exposed.”
Nicholas frowns, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the armrest. “And what is the plan when you get them to the show?”
“Exposing them.” Koen leans back in his chair, his smirk just shy of cocky.
“Every single one of them. Their crimes, their secrets, everything. Mostly how they helped Veronica build her empire on lies and other people’s suffering.
We’ve been gathering evidence for years, and the show is our stage to lay it all out for the world to see. ”
“And how will you do that?” I ask, crossing my arms.
Sylus grins. “We’re gonna display their wrongdoings for everyone to see.”
Koen glances at Sylus. “Dove and I talked about that, Sy. We want it even bigger. Do you think you could manage to project everything onto the billboard screens outside the Lane Building?”
“Outside?” Sylus furrows his brows. “When people will be inside for the show?”
“No.” Koen’s gaze shifts to Ace. “Think we could make everything happen outside on the street?”
“The street?” Ace echoes.
“It’s Levi’s idea.” Koen nods. “If we hijack the street between the Lane Building, the Plaza, and Harrington Heights, we could gather a much bigger crowd. Spread the word on socials beforehand, make it accessible. No tickets, no barriers. People can just show up. Ezra even said it’d be easier for him to make sure the police will be there too. ”
Ace exhales sharply. “Why are you only coming to me with this now?”
“Because we only talked about it yesterday,” Koen admits. “But I’ve thought it over, and I like the idea. Do you think we could pull it off?”
Ace’s gaze shifts to Sylus, who shrugs with casual confidence.
“It’s doable. I can use drones as cameras and project everything onto the screens on the Lane Building.
The illusions work outside, especially if we do it at night.
We’ll need to set up projectors in advance.
I’ll probably need a van to have the tech close.
You have to tell me if it’s realistic, though. ”
Ace nods slowly, his fingers steepled in thought. “I’ll have to think it through, but I like the idea. We could incorporate the roof-hopping as part of the show. Let people see Koen risking his neck for it. Make it even more headline-worthy.”
“Roof-hopping?” I blink. “What are you talking about?”
“We want to spread the evidence we have across all the establishments Veronica owns.” Koen’s grin sharpens. “And as you know, there are a lot of them.”
“I want her face plastered alongside her crimes on every billboard and every screen on the Strip,” Sylus agrees.
“At least half the Strip,” Ace mutters.
I glance between them. “And what does roof-hopping have to do with that?”
Koen leans back, folding his hands behind his head. “We need access to the transmitter on top of Harrington Heights so Sylus can hijack the signal and spread the evidence to every business connected to the network. But the rooftop of the Heights is practically impenetrable.”
My stomach drops. “And how will you get up there then?”
“There’s a Lamborghini on the rooftop of the Plaza,” Sylus states.
“A Lambo?” I repeat, incredulous.
“The Lamborghini Huracán Belmont displays in a glass cage at his rooftop bar to brag to everyone that he has one of the five hundred in existence,” Ace says dryly, leaning back against the chair with a faint smirk.
“And, apparently, he’d rather display it than drive it.
But Koen will rectify that. Because what’s the point of a car like that if you’re not going to drive it fast.”
“Exactly.” Koen chuckles, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “I’ll put it to better use.”
“You mean you’re going to steal it?” Nicholas scoffs, crossing his arms. “And then what? You can’t just hotwire a Lamborghini on a fucking rooftop. That thing’s been up there for years. It’s probably not even drivable anymore.”
Ace shrugs. “Every so often, Belmont does a showing. Starts it up, revs the engine for the crowd.” He smirks. “Last one was a month ago.”
Nicholas exhales sharply. “Fine. But let’s say you do get it running. How the hell are you planning to get it down to the street?”
“You’re not listening,” Ace raises an eyebrow. “Who said anything about getting it down?”
“Wait…” I blink, trying to catch up, “… you’re planning to steal the car to… what? Jump rooftops?”
“Exactly. The Plaza’s rooftop bar is the only easy access point, and their roof is higher than the Heights by just enough to give us the angle we need.
The Huracán can hit the speed to make the jump in seconds…
” Koen pauses, a flicker of something—doubt?
—crossing his face before he masks it with his usual smirk.
“If we get it lined up perfectly, it’ll work.
I’ll need sixty-seven miles per hour at the exact moment it leaves the ramp. No more, no less.”
“Why?” I ask like an idiot.
“Any slower, and you don’t make it across. Any faster, and the momentum’s wrong, you’ll overshoot and crash. From zero to sixty in three-point-two seconds.”
Fuck. “That’s more than risky.”
“There’s a wide-ass street between those buildings!” Nicholas snaps. “It’s not only risky, it’s suicidal.”
“And?” Sylus pipes up, leaning back with an almost-smug air. “It’s not about easy. It’s about making a statement.”
Nicholas throws his hands up. “This isn’t about statements! It’s about bringing her down. You want to throw a damn parade while you’re at it?”
“What do you think this whole plan is?” Koen’s gaze finds Nicholas’s. “A magic show. The finale of a lifetime. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to do it our way. With flair.”
Nicholas rubs his temples like he’s seconds away from losing his mind. “You’re all insane.”
Sylus laughs. “Welcome to the club, Harrington.”
I cross my arms, looking between them. “So let me get this straight. You’re planning to steal one of the rarest cars in the world, drive it off a rooftop, and hope for the best? And this is supposed to be the smart part of the plan?”
“No hope involved,” Koen says evenly. “It’s calculated. I’ve already run the numbers. The jump is possible.”
“He’s right,” Ace agrees, but even his confidence doesn’t help the bad feeling in my chest.
“And what about landing?” Nicholas mutters. “Do you have numbers for that too?”
“The rooftop of the Heights is long enough to pull off a stop if you hit the brakes the moment the tires launch from the Plaza’s roof.”
Nicholas shakes his head. “You’re playing with your life here.”
“We’re playing to win,” Koen counters, his tone equally sharp. “And this is the only way to make it happen.”
“And when he’s up there,” Ace adds. “We’ll access the transmitter and take control of the network. Sylus will spread the evidence across every screen connected to Veronica’s system. Her empire will crumble in real time.”
“And how do you get down from the roof of the Heights if there is no other way to get up there than jumping rooftops?” I furrow my brow.
This plan is the fucking definition of insanity.
“It will be a piece of cake to open the door and call an elevator for him as soon as I’m in the system,” Sylus says from behind me.