Levi looked at Enne. She hadn’t said anything the entire tour, only nodded politely at Fitz’s many comments. She gave Levi a thin smile.
“I’ll have to think about it,” Levi answered.
“Think about it? But this is a dream!” Fitz said, and Levi cleared his throat at the word choice. “The boardwalk’s grand opening seems far away, but the contractors can’t wait for a buyer much longer.”
No matter how many times Levi had dreamed of the hallway, it was still only a dream. He shouldn’t let superstition sway him from a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.
Not that he could take it, anyway.
“How much is the down payment?” Levi asked, keeping up the charade.
“Same as before—fifteen thousand volts down.”
Levi cringed inwardly. Between Vianca’s request and the lockdown, he was far from one of the richest men in the North Side anymore.
“Can I talk to Levi in private for a moment?” Enne asked, and Levi numbly let her pull him away to the other side of the room. “I think you should take it.”
Levi gaped. “With what voltage? You were just saying earlier that it was impossible—”
“Justlookat this place. We never talk about it, but I know you see the same thing I do.”
“Zula called it a shade. That isn’t anythinggood, Enne.” And he worried that dwelling on it would send their one good thing over that cliff’s edge.
“That’s just Jac rubbing off on you,” she pushed. “Youwantthis. I know you do.”
“I want everything!” The desires he’d once admitted freely now felt tainted with his friend’s disdain. Because if Levi got this, he would go on to wanting bigger, better things. He might have the Irons, and Enne, and the reputation he’d always wanted, but the problem with ambition was that it was never satiated. “Besides, it’s impossible.”
Enne slipped her arms around his waist, a touch that would normally make him relax, but the dangerous glint in her eyes did quite the opposite.
“Thereisa way,” she whispered. “There has always been another option.”
The last time she’d suggested this, Levi had immediately declined. Making volts was dangerous—even criminals needed an explanation for their fortunes. But the two of them were far from the nobodies they’d been only a few months ago. Every breath they took was already accompanied by danger.
But the more he thought about it, the more the image of his father lingered in his mind. Levi had built a life for himself that had nothing to do with the bloody history of his family, and he was proud of that. How could he rationalize all the years cursing his father if he carried on his legacy after all?
“Enne...” He smiled apologetically and squeezed her hand. “It’s not worth it.”
She bit her lip, like she was considering pushing more. Instead, she only nodded. “It’s your decision.”
The two returned to Fitz. “I’m sorry,” Levi said, with what he truly felt was a heavy heart. “I can’t accept. But I really appreciate your offer.”
Fitz’s smile fell. “Well, if you change your minds, you know how to reach me.” He handed them both fresh copies of his business card. “Can I trust you to show yourselves out? I have another appointment in a few minutes for a taffy shop.” Then he waved his goodbyes and left.
For several moments, the two of them stood there in silence.
Levi shook his head bitterly and wandered into the card rooms. No matter how unsettling the decor, he liked how little this place resembled St. Morse. Inside that casino, he always felt trapped beneath Vianca’s shadow.
He leaned against a white card table—they, too, alternated colors—and tried to imagine himself owning it.
“Jac would probably hate this place,” he said.
Enne wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “You can’t keep punishing yourself for what happened. You’ve been friends for years. You’ll get through this.”
But Levi thought of the words flung between them that day, and he wasn’t so sure. Lately, he wasn’t sure of anything—not his instincts, not his survival, not his destiny.
“A long time ago, before I came to New Reynes,” Levi said, “someone in my life taught me to believe that I needed to be punished for every mistake.” He’d never talked to Enne about his father before, and he almost felt silly bringing it up now. It was a lifetime ago—sometimes, he even forgot his father’s voice. But he’d never forgotten his father’s lessons. “I thought I had unlearned all of that since then, but I guess you never really do.”
Enne pressed her head against his chest. “I’m sorry.”
