Chapter 8
CHAPTER EIGHT
Koen
A whisper of something lingers in the air as she hurries away as if she’s trying to escape more than just our presence. My eyes stay on the path she took, unease prickling at the edges of my thoughts. There was something about how she carried herself like she’d been running from ghosts too.
What was she even doing here?
And why did seeing her sitting by my sister’s grave, speaking as if they were close, unsettle me so much?
We visit Rosie and Mom far too rarely. Maybe two times a year, birthdays, mostly. Which isn’t enough. And this is the first time we’ve been back since Oscar’s funeral, but it’s not easy for us. We can’t leave the house without being recognized. Not that I mind that so much, but this? This is different. Private. It’s not something I want to share with the public or the press.
Grief should be allowed its privacy.
That’s why we generally come at dusk, when the city is distracted, when everyone is on the Strip, forgetting the dead.
Everyone but us. And her .
It’s been three months since Uncle Oscar was murdered, and I haven’t had the opportunity to feel anything—grief, anger, fear. They’re all locked somewhere deep inside, buried under the weight of keeping everything together. Holding the edges of my crumbling family with hands starting to splinter.
I can’t let go or let my guard slip for even a second. Every stranger, every interaction is a potential threat. There’s no room for weakness. No room for me .
Sylus is slipping. He’s out all night, every night, and when he’s home, he’s high, numbing himself. And I get it. I do. But every time I see that glazed look in his eyes, I find myself gripping tighter. He’s barely holding on, and I’m terrified he’ll slip through my fingers entirely.
Alaric has hardly left his bedroom. He’s disappeared into his own shadows, locking himself away for days, and I’ve stopped knocking on his door, too pained from my dozens of attempts to reach him that only ended in silence. He’d only just started trusting us to fight his demons with him in recent years, but now I don’t know if I’ll reach him before he shatters entirely.
Ezra’s always been steady, the solid ground beneath our feet. Now, even he’s cracking. He’s grumpier, moodier, lost inside his mind. I see the haunted look in his eyes, the weight he carries that none of us are fit enough to help him lift. If Oscar was the one who kept the bonds of our pieced-together family strong, Ezra was the one who shielded us. From crazed fans to violent ones, he’s always been the one who protected us, but who’s protecting him now? Who’s keeping him from breaking?
Levi had always been the wild one, who laughed too loud and lived too fast. But beneath all that glitter and chaos was a heart too soft for this world. My twin has been drowning his grief with anger, having more and more outbursts that are so out of line with his usual demeanor that it leaves me feeling hopeless.
I don’t know how to help any of them, but I know I cannot allow myself even a moment of weakness. If I let my guard down and my emotions surface, it wouldn’t be rage that spills out the same way it has for Levi. It would be despair.
A bottomless pit of it.
I can’t afford to fall into that. If I fall, who’s left to hold the rest of them up?
Oscar’s role in our family is mine now, to be the glue holding us all together. I never wanted it and didn’t ask for it. But someone has to do it.
So, I take it on—the responsibility, the fear, the endless exhaustion. I carry it, even as it grinds me down to nothing.
Because I know what happens if control gets lost.
Everyone around me dies.
Mom. Rose. Uncle Oscar. All I have left of my blood-related family is my twin. And if I let go of my ironclad control, I’d probably turn into a paranoid wreck, wrapping all of my brothers in bubble wrap to make sure nothing could happen to them.
Which, according to Levi, is what I already do.
But fuck, he especially is his own worst enemy. Partying, drinking, he doesn’t give a fuck about himself or his health as long as he gets his high. If I didn’t constantly mother-hen him, the way he loves accusing me of doing, he’d probably starve. I don’t have to worry about him dying of thirst, though.
Champagne counts as liquid, right?
And then there are the fans, all the people who want a piece of us, or mostly him. The girl at the grave wouldn’t even be the first stalker Levi has had if that’s what she is. At least she didn’t seem dangerous .
“Oh my God.” Levi’s laugh, sharp and sudden, snaps me out of my thoughts. “The pretty Little Bird caught your attention, huh? I haven’t seen you look at someone like that in ages.”
“It was… strange.” I shoot him a glare. “You see that, too, right? Her hanging around Rosie’s grave… it doesn’t make sense. She couldn’t have been her friend. She looked younger than us, maybe mid-twenties. They wouldn’t have known each other before Rosie died.”
“Weird? Sure.” Levi chuckles, a mischievous glint lighting his eyes. “But also a delight, ” he says, his voice slipping into that playful tone he uses when something, or someone, has piqued his interest. He makes a cooing sound, and Pebble flutters down from Rosie’s gravestone, landing on his shoulder and nestling in.
“Why would that be a delight ?” I ask, more to distract myself from the growing unease settling in my stomach. “All we have now are questions and an empty wine bottle to dispose of. A very expensive wine bottle,” I note, examining the label. It’s a good year, one I have in our wine cellar.
Levi grins, pulling his phone from his pocket with a flourish. “Yep, questions, one empty bottle more , and… something less.”
“What are you talking about?”
I’m not in the mood for his games.
He grins wider, looking like the cat that got the cream. “You really didn’t notice, did you? It’s fucking perfect, she’s fucking perfect.” He taps on a screen and puts it on speaker. It rings once before Ezra picks up, his deep voice filling the air between us.
“Dove.”
“Hey, Ezy baby,” Levi coos into the phone as if he hasn’t seen him in ages, even though Ezra is sitting in his car outside the graveyard waiting for us to get back. “Have you seen the glittery goddess who just stepped out?”
There’s a moment of silence, then Ezra replies. “She’s standing outside the gate, a few feet from me.”
I furrow my brows, trying to understand where Levi’s going with this. I open my mouth to ask, but Levi raises a finger, signaling me to wait. It’s killing me, but I bite my tongue.
“Amazing. Be a good boy and follow her, okay?” Levi demands, but then his voice drops to that honeyed, persuasive tone he’s perfected. “I’d like to know where she works or lives or where the hell she’s going right now. It’s important.”
“Can I ask why?” Ezra sounds as confused as I feel, which is a small comfort.
Levi’s grin stretches wider when he sees my frown. “Because that beauty just stole Koen’s watch right off his wrist, and he still hasn’t noticed.”
Ice floods my veins as I glance at my bare wrist.
“What the fuck?”
How did she…
Levi’s laughter rings out, echoing off the gravestones. “You’ve got to admit, she’s got skills. I haven’t seen anyone pull off a lift like that in years, and from you, of all people.” He shakes his head. “Honestly, if I hadn’t been watching her glittery fingernails because I need those, I wouldn’t have noticed. It was that quick.”
I’m torn between fury at being robbed and a grudging respect for her audacity.
Who the hell is that girl?
“I’d rather not leave you here alone,” Ezra states firmly.
He’s even more overprotective than I am when it comes to Levi, and that’s saying something. Ezra is a detective, but he acts as Levi’s bodyguard whenever he goes out because Levi refuses to hire a new one. The last one we had didn’t end well. The guy tried to pin him against a wall because he misread Levi’s nature as flirting.
If Ezra hadn’t come home in time to pummel the guy, who was two heads taller than our friend, onto the floor before getting him arrested, I don’t even want to imagine what could have happened.
It was also discovered that he’d been stealing Levi’s used underwear.
It’s no wonder Levi refuses to let anyone else into our circle after that. And honestly, neither do I. I trust Ezra with my life, with our lives. He’s the only one who has earned that. So, when he wanted to train me in hand-to-hand combat, I didn’t argue. I knew why. Ezra can’t be there all the time. And Levi is not always going to be careful, not always going to see the threats coming.
But I do. I have to.
Still, I wonder how the hell Ezra even still has his job. He’s with us, or more specifically, with Levi, almost all the time. It’s not like we need the money. Like most things Ezra does, that job feels more of an obligation he can’t let go of rather than a passion.
“I’ve got him,” I assure Ezra, though my mind is already elsewhere—where the girl with my watch has gone.
The graveyard is eerily quiet now, the kind of silence that comes only at this hour, which was the whole point of coming this late. No eyes on us, no questions, only the solitude of this place. It’s how I wanted it, and truth be told, we didn’t need Ezra to tag along. Part of me thought maybe he’d want to visit Oscar too. He loved him as much as we do.
Yet, when we got here, Ezra had simply said, “I’ll wait in the car,” as if being this close was too much.
Maybe it was.
Grief is a funny thing .
Maybe he carries it in the quiet, the way he does everything else, in silence until it weighs him down so much he can’t move forward.
Ezra doesn’t push back, but I can practically hear his frown over the line as the car engine hums to life. “She’s getting into an Uber. Black Toyota. I’m following her now. I’ll let you know where she stops. Call if you need anything.”
“Will do , tall, dark, and handsome ,” Levi purrs, his voice dripping with sarcasm, cutting off whatever gruff response Ezra was about to throw back.
Levi is always unbothered, playful, even in situations that should feel serious. It’s how he copes and keeps from letting the world sink its claws into him. He deflects everything with humor, and I guess I’m thankful for that. It keeps him lighter. Keeps me lighter, too, when things feel like they’re too much.
Lately , everything is always too much.
“Stealing from us?” Levi’s voice breaks through my thoughts, laced with the same admiration I’d heard earlier. “God, that girl is fucking gutsy.”
I huff, shaking my head. “Yeah, well, I’ll admire her when I get my damn watch back.”
There’s a moment of silence, and then we take the few steps to Oscar’s grave, both pulling out the coins we brought. I flick mine in the air, watching it spin and turn before it lands on the ground in front of the cold stone. “Sometimes it spins, sometimes it falls,” I mutter under my breath, repeating Uncle Oscar’s words.
Levi follows, his coin flipping through the air, making Pebble coo in response. “ Two sides of one coin, destiny calls . ”
I glance at him, and the numbness that’s been clinging to me for months loosens its grip, making room for a dull ache in my chest. Levi’s eyes are brimming with tears, the rawness of his grief so painfully visible. Reaching for him, I pull him into a side hug, and Pebble flutters to the top of Oscar’s gravestone, disturbed by the sudden movement.
“I miss him,” Levi breathes out. “I miss him so much it physically hurts.”
“I know,” I whisper, squeezing him tighter.
Because it’s not my grief I feel. It’s his. I’ve buried mine too deep to face. Levi wears his pain on his sleeve while I’ve chosen to drown mine.
“We’re going to make her pay for it,” Levi almost spits, his hands balling to fists.
I nod, though the words sit heavy in my gut. I’ve known that’s where his thoughts would go the moment we set foot here. It’s the only thing keeping him going, other than the champagne and the endless parties he throws himself into. I can’t shake the worry, though. If we follow through with Oscar’s plan, if we expose everything Veronica Harrington did, not only to us but to this entire damn city, there’s no telling what it will cost us.
It already cost Oscar his life.
“Maybe we should let it rest,” I say, quieter than I mean it. “Maybe Uncle Oscar… maybe he lost the game they were playing. And it’s not our game, Dove.”
Levi pulls away, the warmth of the hug replaced by cold air between us. “She made it our game the second she killed him,” he snaps. His chest rises and falls as if he’s trying to steady himself but failing. “Fine…” bitterness creeps into every word, “… let’s ignore all the shady shit she’s done. Let’s pretend she’s not the worst person alive.”
He drags a hand through his hair, his anger unraveling into something rawer. “Can you live with yourself knowing he died trying to stop her, and we just give up?” Levi points to Oscar’s gravestone, his voice cracking. The sound of it stops me short—it’s not just rage now, it’s grief.
“Can you? Exposing her, bringing her down… it’s his legacy. It’s what he would’ve wanted us to do. It’s what’s right. ” I open my mouth to respond, but he’s already pushing forward. “If you don’t want to help me, fine. I’ll do it on my own.”
He can’t. And he knows it.
The plan Uncle Oscar had put together involved all of us—Ezra, Alaric, Sylus, Levi, and me. It was already set in motion when she had Uncle Oscar killed.
The fire in Levi’s eyes wavers. His shoulders tense, his breathing uneven. “I get it,” he finally says like the fight’s been knocked out of him. “You’re scared. Hell, I’m scared too. I don’t even know if we can win this. But if we don’t try…” His voice breaks completely, and he drags a hand through his hair. “If we don’t try, then what the hell did he die for?”
It’s not anger anymore. It’s grief. It’s guilt. As he looks back at me, his eyes searching mine, I see it clearly. The weight he’s been carrying, the fear of failing Oscar, of letting his death mean nothing.
And I can’t let him carry it alone, even if I hate this.
“You’re playing with fire,” I mutter, crossing my arms.
Levi flashes me a grin that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Fire’s the only thing that’ll burn her empire to the ground.”
She made it look like a heart attack—so perfectly staged, even I questioned it for a while. The stress, the pressure of the show made sense on the surface.
But then, at the funeral, I saw her. The way she looked at me, that satisfied glint in her eye. Like she knew she’d won. Like she was waiting for me to realize it. She’d even had the audacity to talk about mending things between our families, pretending as if it were some diplomatic tragedy instead of murder.
And that look?
That smug, knowing look?
It’s the only thing that’s kept me from believing her story. The only thing that keeps me from letting this go.
“I don’t know if we can win this,” I admit in a whisper. “But you’re right. We can’t simply stand by and let her get away with it.”
Levi’s eyes soften for a moment, then harden again with resolve. “We won’t let her win. We can’t. For him.”
I nod, but the weight of it all feels suffocating. Oscar’s plan was dangerous, reckless even. He knew it. And now we’re the ones standing at the edge of the same cliff he fell from, staring into the abyss she created.
If we jump, there’s no coming back.
Except standing still feels just as deadly.
Levi’s phone rings, pulling us out of the heavy air hanging over Oscar’s grave. He glances at the screen and grins, answering, “Hey, Ezy.”
“She went into a strip club called Euphoria. The way she got in, it looks like she’s working there. Should I go check or…”
Levi’s entire demeanor shifts, his eyes lighting up as he wipes away the last remnants of tears still clinging to his face. “A strip club, huh?” His grin is so wide I have to roll my eyes.
Of course, it’s his kind of place.
Why can’t she work in a five-star restaurant or something?
“Amazing.” Levi practically vibrates with excitement. “No, please don’t go have fun without me. Come get us. I want to talk to her myself. ”
“All right, coming back.” Ezra’s sigh is audible over the line, but he doesn’t argue and hangs up.
“Why do you want to talk to her? It’s my watch.” Irritation creeps into my voice as we turn to leave, and I glance over my shoulder for one last look at Oscar’s grave.
Bye, Uncle Oscar, Rosie, Mom.
Levi shrugs, but there’s something sharper behind his usual carefree mask. “Remember how I said we needed evidence that she was behind the murder?”
“Yes,” I mutter. It’s all he’s been talking about since Uncle Oscar’s death. Without hard evidence, we can’t move forward with the plan. It’s not only about revenge. It’s about justice, and without proof, we’ve got nothing but theories.
“Well,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Our little stripper is going to get it for us.”
I stop dead in my tracks, frowning at him. “How the hell should she be able to get evidence? Not even Sylus could hack into the hotel security, and Alaric—”
“Is practically useless right now,” Levi cuts me off with a shrug, and I hate that he’s right.
“ Even if Alaric did leave his room, we already checked, and there’s no way he could make it up to Harrington’s penthouse uninvited, not even with his talents. So she won’t be able to either.”
Levi nods, lips curling into a grin. “Exactly. We’d need to get invited .”
I stare at him, confused. “Harrington would never. Not even someone who looks like her. Veronica’s not gay.”
Levi’s grin only widens. “True. She’s as straight as her son is. As you remember.”
It hits me like a ton of bricks.
Holy shit.
“You’re not seriously suggesting… ”
“Why not? Our Little Bird’s got the looks, and from what I just saw, she’s got the skills we need. It wouldn’t be hard for her to catch his attention. And if she can cozy up to him…”
“She could get access to the penthouse and his mother’s files,” I finish, the weight of the plan sinking in.
“Exactly. And if there’s anything about Oscar in there… anything at all… we’ll have what we need to expose her. And Nicholas wouldn’t even know he’s handing it to us on a gold platter.”
I shake my head, still trying to wrap my mind around it. “It’s risky, Levi. Veronica is fucking dangerous.”
And we would put another life at risk if we pulled Glitter into this mess, not to mention the risks we’d take letting her in on this plan, in with us.
“Life’s risky, Koen. But this? This is our best shot.”
I groan. Levi has always been reckless, but this? This is next-level insane. And yet, as crazy as it sounds, it might actually work. If we can get her close enough to Nicholas, she might be able to dig up the evidence we need, evidence that could finally prove Oscar’s murder wasn’t simply nature taking its course.
“So, we’re going to follow her into a strip club and what? Charm our way into this insane plan?” I ask, crossing my arms.
Levi flashes me a wicked grin. “Leave the charming to me, brother. You just keep your eyes on the prize and maybe help a little with your mind tricks.”
I sigh, knowing there’s no talking him out of it now. The wheels are already in motion, and Levi is too excited about this plan to back down. If we’re going to take down the woman who killed Oscar, we need to get creative. And if that means playing dirty, so be it.
“Fine,” I mutter, already feeling the weight of what’s to come. “But if this backfires—? ”
“It won’t,” Levi interrupts, slinging an arm around my shoulders. “I’ve got this.”
I shake my head as we make our way toward the entrance of the graveyard, waiting for Ezra to pick us up. The truth is, I’m not sure if Levi’s plan will work or if it’ll blow up in our faces.
But he’s right . There’s no turning back now.