Chapter 34
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Novalee
The private room is dimly lit, the walls draped in plush velvet that absorbs the relentless thrum of the bassline. The air is thick with the mix of his cologne and the faintest trace of my perfume, a combination that feels as suffocating as it is familiar.
He’s another suit, another eager wallet, but this one’s got a Breitling on his wrist that practically screams that it wants to go home with me.
I drape myself over him and let my hips sway in a slow rhythm. I feel the tension in his body beneath me and see his eyes glued to the shimmer of glitter on my bare skin. His fingers twitch at his sides, itching to touch what he’s not allowed to.
“Having a good time?” I murmur, leaning in close enough for my breath to ghost against his ear.
He grunts something in agreement, his attention too fixed on my tits to bother forming coherent words. But then his hand moves, too fast and too bold, grabbing me by the waist and pulling me tighter against him. I stiffen but keep the smile in place, brushing his hand off as I murmur, “Look, don’t touch. Those are the rules.”
He chuckles. “Rules are meant to be broken, aren’t they?” His hand snakes up, groping my breast.
That’s it.
I jerk back, my voice cutting through the music. “Carl!”
The bouncer doesn’t make me wait. The curtain swings open, and Carl fills the frame, his eyes flicking to me, then taking in the suit, whose hand is still mid-grab.
“Hands off the girls!”
With Carl closing the distance, relief surges through me, and I make my move. The suit is too distracted to notice the subtle slide of my fingers over his wrist. The Breitling slips free and into my palm just as Carl reaches for me, his hands surprisingly gentle as he puts them under my arms and lifts me off the man’s lap, setting me down on my feet. Once I’m safely out of reach, his demeanor shifts. He grabs the guy by the front of his suit jacket and hauls him up with ease.
“Hey, I paid for—”
“Don’t care,” Carl growls out, cutting him off. “You can be lucky that I’ll only throw you out and not break your jaw for that.”
The guy barely has time to sputter another word before Carl shoves him toward the curtain. The last thing I see before the curtain closes is the guy stumbling into the club, Carl’s broad back blocking the rest of the view.
I let out a shaky breath and glance down at the watch, the weight of it in my palm steadying me in a way that almost makes me smile.
Compensation.
By the time Carl returns, his expression is unreadable, but there’s a flicker of something in his eyes, concern maybe or just acknowledgment. He doesn’t say anything, just gives me a small nod before stepping aside to let me pass.
Euphoria’s pulsing bassline swallows me whole, and with each step toward the locker room, I shed the tension like a second skin.
The familiar routine of peeling off Glitter begins. I strip away the wig, the glitter-dusted G-string, and the towering heels, revealing Novalee underneath.
As I reach for my phone, I notice a missed call from Annabelle, just thirty minutes ago. It’s already past one in the morning, but she wouldn’t call this late unless it were important. Frowning, I hit her contact and bring the phone to my ear while pulling on fresh underwear.
The line rings twice before she picks up. “Babe!” Her voice is bright, too chipper for this hour. “Finally. I was about to call again.”
“It’s the middle of the night. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” she assures me quickly. “Couldn’t sleep. Just wanted to see how you’re doing, you know? Thought maybe you’d gotten over your dry spell.”
“Well, considering I’m on the phone with you right now, I’m clearly not hooking up at the moment.” I pull on a cami and a pair of jean shorts.
“Boring,” she teases, her voice laced with mock disappointment. “Come on, Nova. I’m living vicariously through you over here. You’re supposed to be the exciting one.”
“How’s the new job, by the way? And the apartment? Living the dream yet?”
She sighs dramatically, but I can hear the contentment beneath it. “It’s good. Really good, actually. The job’s stable, the apartment’s cute, and everything’s... fine. It’s boring as hell, but it’s a dream, right? That’s why I need you to keep being you. The exciting one. ”
Exciting.
I’ve always been good at playing the part, keeping things light, never letting anyone get too close. That’s the trick, isn’t it? Stay unattached. Keep things simple. When stuff gets too real, too close, you just walk away.
Like now.
I’ve been feeling it, this thing with the guys. It’s too much, too real. Sylus is… well, Sylus. Always there, always relentless, breaking through cracks I don’t even realize I have. Koen? He’s in my fucking head like he knows my thoughts before I do. And Alaric, he’s too intriguing, too raw, too much like a mirror I don’t want to look into. And now there’s Nicholas. This little crush creeping in like I have room for anything else.
I can’t walk away from the plan. I promised them that much. And I do want to help. I want to see it through to make sure we get justice for Oscar and take Veronica down. But emotionally? I have to pull back. Get some distance, at least from my side.
Because it’s not like I promised anyone anything. I don’t owe them more than what I’ve already given. And if I let myself start feeling—really feeling—this is going to get messy in ways I can’t afford.
I could just go out tonight, find someone, hook up like I always did. It’s easy. No strings, no expectations. Just a way to remind myself who I am and how this works. Because if I let myself sink any deeper into this, into them , what happens when it all falls apart? When they realize I’m not what they need? Not what they thought?
Hooking up won’t fix it, not really. But maybe it’ll help with this feeling like it’s all getting too close. Like I’m about to step off a cliff and can’t see the bottom.
That’s the thing about being exciting. People don’t expect you to stay. They don’t ask for more than you’re willing to give. They take what you offer, and you move on before anyone can ask why.
“Fine,” I quip, smirking. “I’ll go be exciting. Heading to Vortex now.”
“Call me with all the dirty details tomorrow, okay?”
“Sure thing,” I reply, my voice lighter than I feel. We hang up, and I tuck my phone into my pocket before stepping into the Vegas night and follow the familiar path over to my favorite club.
Vortex is already pulsing with life when I step inside, the air thick with the scent of sweat, alcohol, and anticipation. It’s packed, bodies moving to the pounding rhythm of the music. A few guys swarm toward me, their voices blending into the chaotic hum of the club.
“Where’ve you been, pretty girl?” one of them calls out, his grin wide and eager.
Another steps closer, leaning in to help me hear him over the music. “Haven’t seen you around. Thought you disappeared on us.”
I force a smile, my mind working to piece together who they are. Hookups blur after a while, their faces fading into the background of meaningless nights.
One of them brushes his fingers along my arm, and I force a laugh, shaking him off gently. “I’m here now, aren’t I?”
My gaze sweeps toward the bar, but Sylus isn’t there. Of course, he’s not, and somehow that is enough to keep me from getting myself a drink at said bar.
I push the thought aside and let the music guide me onto the dance floor. The beat vibrates through my body, and I lose myself in the movement, letting the rhythm drown out everything else. But when a guy gets too close, his hands grazing my hips, something inside me snaps .
“Look, don’t touch,” I say sharply, my voice cutting through the music.
He chuckles, clearly not taking the hint. “Come on, pretty girl. Let’s have some fun. Bathroom?”
“No.” The word leaves my mouth before I can even think about it. “I’m going home.”
I don’t stick around to see his reaction. Instead, I weave through the crowd and head for the door, already pulling up the rideshare app as I step outside.
My chest feels tight, my thoughts a whirlwind as I walk away from the club. This is what I do, what I’ve always done. So why does it suddenly feel... wrong?
A sensation like a whisper pulls me from sleep so gently it is almost as if it’s part of a dream. My body tenses, then melts, responding instinctively as awareness floods me with each rhythmic touch. My breath whooshes out, as I locate the source of the feeling, a warm mouth between my thighs, moving with the confidence of someone who knows exactly what he’s doing.
I’m lying on my stomach, the bathrobe I wore after my shower now bunched around my waist. My bedroom is dark, lit only by the faint glow from the streetlamps outside.
Another slow, velvety lick slides along my pussy, and my hips jerk in response.
“Oh my God.”
A low, rumbling chuckle wraps around me like a promise, pulling me fully awake with a rush.
Sylus.
The weight of him settled behind me is reassuring and possessive, his hands splayed on my thighs. He knows I’m awake now, knows I’m aware of every slick, reverent press of his lips, and careful sweep of his tongue as he leans in, unhurried, savoring every response he draws from me.
I arch my back and press into his face as a low, shuddering moan escapes me. His hands slide over my hips, keeping me stable while he takes his time. Each brush of his tongue against my skin draws out new waves of heat, and his ministrations are relentless.
Just when I think I can’t take any more, he pauses, his warm breath fanning over me before he plants a slow, open-mouthed kiss on my inner thigh, suspending me in a haze of anticipation.
“Sorry, baby,” he murmurs, his voice roughened with desire, sending even more heat straight through me. “I couldn’t help myself when I found you splayed out for me like a feast.” He chuckles again, a sound that vibrates against me, and without another word, he dives back in, somehow both precise and languid.
I feel the faint scrape of stubble on his chin against the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, and the roughness contrasts beautifully with the softness of his tongue, working together to push me closer to the edge. A low moan slips from my lips once more, and I clutch the sheets beneath me as his hands grip my ass, spreading me as he deepens his attention. His tongue flicks against my clit, and I jolt at the renewed burst of pleasure. He does it again and again until I’m a writhing mess beneath him, my breath coming in ragged gasps.
Tension coils deep within me as he gives even more attention to my clit, circling, flicking, and I move against his face as I chase the release that’s just out of reach. “Please.”
Sylus growls, and the vibration of it sends shock waves through me, and I completely let myself go, lost in the sensation of his mouth. The room fills with the sound of my moans and the wet, obscene noises of his tongue as pleasure courses through my veins like wildfire.
I’m so close, so fucking close, and he knows it.
“Sylus,” I whimper a desperate plea. “ Please… don’t stop.”
He doesn’t, pushing me higher until I’m hanging on the edge, barely holding on. His tongue lashes against my clit with an intensity that leaves me breathless. And then, with a final, exquisite flick of his tongue, I’m sent tumbling over the edge.
My orgasm sweeps away all rational thought, leaving only raw, unfiltered pleasure in its wake. I cry out his name hoarsely as I ride out the high on his face, every nerve alive and tingling.
As the last tremors fade, I collapse onto the bed, limp and sated. Sylus crawls up the length of my body, then he grips my chin to tilt my head to the side and makes me look at him. When his eyes lock onto mine, untampered hunger burns in his gaze. His face glistens as a wicked grin spreads across his lips.
“Thank you for the late-night snack, baby,” he murmurs in a low rumble before capturing my mouth in a searing kiss. I taste myself on his tongue, which sends a fresh wave of desire coursing through me.
His hard length presses against my thigh through his jeans as the heat of his body blankets mine before he rolls me onto my back. I surrender to him entirely, my limbs heavy from the remnants of my orgasm. His gaze locks onto mine again, and even in the dim light, I can see the silver gleam of his eyes, like a wolf hunting in the darkness, hungry and intense.
His breath comes in ragged pants, matching my own, as he hovers above me, his arms bracketing my head like a cage I don’t want to escape from. My hand trembles slightly as I trace the line of his jaw, the rough stubble scraping against my fingertips. The sensation sends a pulse of heat through me, making me clench around nothing, the ache between us almost unbearable.
His eyes flutter closed as he leans into my touch, a low groan vibrating in his chest. The sound pulls at something deep within me, stoking the fire that’s already burning out of control.
When his eyes open again, the hunger there is sharper, more consuming, and it steals my breath. It’s like looking into a mirror, the reflection of my own desire staring back at me, magnified by the intensity in his gaze.
My heart races, my body responding instinctively, arching slightly toward him. I want to speak, to say something that could capture this moment, this feeling, but my words are lost, tangled in the raw, electric charge between us.
Instead, I let myself feel him, his heat, his weight, the way his breath fans across my face. It’s overwhelming, intoxicating. I want more.
“Sylus.” His name on my lips is like a secret, a plea, a prayer. The wetness between my legs pools as my body continues aching for him, needing him.
He dips his head, his lips brushing against mine in a soft, teasing kiss. My fingers tangle in his hair, and I deepen the connection, pulling him closer, desperate for more.
His hips grind against mine, the friction against my thigh sending sparks of pleasure shooting through my body.
As an invitation, I spread my legs wider, opening myself up to him completely. “Please.” My hips arch up to meet his, my body begging for him. “Please fuck me. I need you inside me. ”
“Fuck.” His hands grip my hips, his fingers digging into my flesh with a delicious, bruising force. “There’s nothing I’d rather do, but the twins are sitting on your couch, waiting for us, and your door’s still open.”
I freeze, glancing over to see the door is, indeed, ajar.
They heard everything.
“Don’t blush, Sparkle,” Sylus murmurs with a wicked grin. “I’m sure Koen enjoyed every second of it. Wanna bet on the size of the boner he’s got right now?”
“Shut up.” I groan, pushing him off me, and he goes easily with a laugh.
I stand, pulling off the askew bathrobe, and reach for the nearest oversized hoodie, tugging it over my still-warm skin. Then, I slide into a pair of loose shorts, making my way into the living room. Sylus trails behind me, and as I enter the small space, I find the twins sprawled out on my pink couch with an enormous plate of sushi spread across the coffee table.
“Well, hello there.” Levi is already reaching for a piece with his chopsticks, glancing up at me with that familiar grin. “We wanted to eat with you, but I guess Sylus misunderstood the assignment.”
My cheeks heat up, and my gaze flicks to Koen, who’s watching me with a look so intense that I feel it down to my toes. His eyes follow the subtle shift of my legs, and I press my thighs together reflexively. He notices, of course, and his fingers tighten on his thigh, knuckles whitening as if he’s barely holding back from standing, putting me over his shoulder, and taking me back to bed to make me scream some more.
Sylus chuckles from behind me, so I glare over my shoulder at him as he walks past me, grabs a pillow from the couch, and settles on it, cross-legged on the floor. There’s no space for me left on the couch, but before I can even consider where to sit, Sylus reaches up, pulls me down into his lap, and wraps his arms securely around my waist. His chin rests on my shoulder, and I shiver when he nips at my throat.
I don’t push him away this time. Instead, I let myself settle against him, and I realize how much I missed this.
Missed them.
The last two days have been mostly quiet, with only a string of lighthearted would you rather questions exchanged with Nicholas over text. I worked my shifts at Euphoria, sure, but the rest of the time, I was either watching parkour videos or scrolling through old footage of Levi and Koen’s shows, only to realize I was obsessing over them, which is anything but healthy.
Then, I resorted to a season of MasterChef and finished that diamond painting of a unicorn. Somehow, all of that only made me ache for them even more.
I’m fucked.
“What are you guys doing here? It’s three in the morning,” I note, glancing at the clock. I don’t even bother asking how they got in. I know Sylus has his ways, and I’d already given him permission.
Sylus picks up a piece of maki with his fingers, holding it in front of my mouth. “Open,” he murmurs, teasingly nudging it forward. I oblige, taking in the whole piece and his fingers. He groans, shifting beneath me as his hardness presses against me.
Payback.
I reach for a piece, holding it up to Sylus’s lips. His eyes spark with pleasure about me feeding him as he takes it, his arms tightening around me, pulling me in even closer. The warmth of his body seeps into me, and I let myself sink into the comfort .
“Like Dove said.” Koen leans back on the couch. “We wanted to eat with you but thought we’d wait until you were done with work.”
“Yeah, and he said we couldn’t go in and watch you,” Levi adds with a mischievous grin. “So damn boring.”
“Okay,” I reply hesitantly. “That’s… nice.”
I guess?
Sylus places a gentle kiss on the top of my head, reaching for another piece of sushi, and I do the same, letting the comfortable silence settle in as we all dig in before eventually breaking it a few minutes later.
“Where’s Ezra?” I ask, glancing around, expecting him to materialize from some corner of the room.
Sylus chuckles. “Waiting in the car outside.”
“What?” I turn to gape at him. “Oh my God, tell him to come in. It’s fine. ”
“Don’t worry.” Levi waves a dismissive hand. “He’s doing some work, and he’s got his own sushi. He’s fine out there, trust me.”
“And Captain Bossy?” I inquire a little more softly.
I haven’t heard from him either.
Levi and Koen exchange a look, something passing between them before Koen sighs. “He tried. Really, he did.”
“That’s still a win.” Sylus shrugs, his arm warm around my waist.
I nod.
He might not know it, but I’m proud of him too.
I notice a USB stick lying next to the plate on the table. I pick it up, turning it over between my fingers. “And what’s this USB stick doing here?”
“That’s no ordinary USB stick, Sparkle. That’s a USB Rubber Ducky.”
“A duck?” I turn my head to give Sylus a questioning look .
He chuckles, brushing a stray lock of my hair behind my ear. “Yeah, it’s got a funny name, but it’s no joke. It’s a penetration testing tool. A hacker’s best friend. When you plug it into Veronica’s desktop or laptop, it’ll automatically run a script that gets me in. In a few seconds, it’ll create a backdoor that allows me to access her files remotely.”
Right, I have to get inside her home.
Shit.
“And then what? I plug it in, and…”
“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.