Levi choked on his drink. It might’ve been a hairbreadth away from the election, but Jac and Sophia had pulled it off. Just like Jac promised he would.
His triumph was quickly replaced by guilt. This entire time, he’d been betting against his friend.
Harrison checked his watch. “I have an event in two hours. Because I’m grateful, I’ll give you fifteen minutes for whatever you actually came here for.”
Levi had come loaded with questions, far too many to squeeze into such a short meeting. So he started with the most important. “Are you certain you’ll win?”
He licked his lips. “Unfortunately, you can’t ever be certain. My team thinks the Torren votes will leave us evenly matched. The results could go either way, which is why it’s even more crucial that I win, if I want to kill my mother. Despite the curfew and all the new regulations, the Capitol wants this election toseemfair. My mother’s murder would, unfortunately, give the wrong impression.”
Levi’s heart—already hammering—now pulsed with nerves. If Prescott won, Vianca claimed Levi would be pardoned—and made heir to the Augustine empire. But if Harrison won, then Levi remained a criminal, the Irons stayed broke, and nothing in the North Side changed. But at least Vianca would be dead.
“Do you know the identity of Vianca’s other... Her other...?” Levi asked, unable to utter the last word.
“I know about Séance, and I suspect the other,” Harrison answered, but Levi couldn’t guess how he’d learned that. “I suppose I’ll be doing all three of you a favor. It doesn’t matter much to me. There have been nearly a hundred of you coming and going for as long as I’ve known about my mother’s practices.”
“Notyourpractices?” Levi asked. Harrison and his mother shared a blood talent.
“It’s not exactly to my taste.”
Levi wanted to press more on how he’d learned about Enne, but he was running low on time. And so he asked what he’d come here for: “What happened between you and your mother?”
Although such a question would’ve unraveled Vianca, Harrison didn’t hesitate. He even chuckled. “You really don’t know? I thought everyone knew the sorry story of what happened to me. The tabloids aren’t all wrong about it.” He inspected Levi closely. “I was about your age.”
“I know about how Veil kidnapped you, if that’s what you mean.” Enne had once told him as much.
“Yes, Veil and his psychotic attempts to undermine anyone else with power in the North Side. I was abducted from my bed at university and smuggled out of the city. We were kept in an attic, Leah and I.”
“You mean Leah Torren?” Levi asked. “Sedric’s older sister?”
“Yes. It was a brilliant move on Veil’s part. The Families only care about two things: volts, and their legacies.” Something dark swam in Harrison’s eye. “Five months spent in that attic, it was only me and her. We were both seventeen. We were heirs to rival Families in New Reynes. The story practically tells itself.” And if the details didn’t, then the sharpness in Harrison’s voice certainly did. Love always carved the deepest wounds. “When I returned, my mother grew even more obsessed with the future of the Family. Which was why she was far from pleased when I told her of my own naïve hopes—that our empires could be stronger together.” Harrison laughed bitterly. “I should’ve left with Leah and never came back. I tried to, but my mother got to her first.”
Levi filled in the rest with what he already knew of street history. Leah Torren was murdered shortly after her return. Sedric had been a child at the time.
“I imagine the real reason you’re here is because you think my mother has offered you some kind of choice,” Harrison said, and Levi stiffened. He hadn’t wanted to give that away. “But once someone knows what matters most to you, they own you. The omerta binds your life, but if she manages it, she’ll also bind your heart.”
Vianca had killed the person Harrison loved in order to control him, and her plan had backfired. And as Levi thought of Vianca’s suggestive comments over the past few months, he realized Vianca had since tried to engineer the opposite. She’d bound Levi and Enne together through her. She’d devised ways for their partnership to continue. She’d played with their chains like puppet strings, twisting and intertwining them until she got the end she wanted. Until she rewrote the mistakes she’d made with her son.
She hadn’t picked Enne because of her finishing school manners or because of Sedric Torren—she’d picked Enne as bait. For him.
“I have a last favor to ask of you.” Harrison nodded to a cigar box on the coffee table. The box was an antique, its woodwork covered in rose petals and faded paint. It looked so delicate, Levi was almost afraid to touch it. Gingerly, he opened it.
Inside was a gun.
Levi sucked in his breath. “Who is this meant for?”
“This election has become another game of fifty-fifty chances for you, hasn’t it?” Harrison asked. “But this doesn’t have to be a gamble. Whatever else you need to convince you—a pardon, riches, anything—I can give it to you. You can take matters into your own hands—choose your throne rather than betting on one. You need only name your price.”
Once again, Harrison was handing Levi his destiny.
All it would take was a single shot. He couldn’t take out Vianca, but he could kill Prescott. The turmoil would tip the election in Harrison’s favor.
But the blame would have to fall on someone, and Levi’s gambler’s instincts told him it would fall on him.
Levi could, at this very moment, shoot Harrison between the eyes. A different choice. He wouldn’t even need Harrison’s weapon and all it symbolized to do it—he had a perfectly good pistol in his pocket. He could accept Vianca’s offer. He would still remain a prisoner, but at least he’d wear a crown.
But there was a third option. There had always been a third option.
All this time, Levi had focused on those who could give him power. He’d wagered with Harrison. He’d wagered with Vianca. But all of those bets had required sacrifices—sacrifices he should’ve never been willing to make.
