Page 58 of Heart of Thieves

He shrugs, dropping his hand to his side. “Considering who she was? Keeping her was too much of a risk.”

“But you shut down your casino, so what good did avoiding risk serve you?”

“Risks exist even when there aren’t casinos to mask them.”

“You cared for her,” I say. “Something about that tournament broke you as much as it broke her.”

“Cared for her?” He laughs. “She certainly is pretty, but she served a purpose, Enzo, and once that purpose was over, she was no longer useful.”

“No.” I scowl. I saw the way Nic looked at Lola in that vault when she dropped her secret. The way her betrayal cleaved him in two. That was what scared me most. In that instant, when their eyes met, both of them desperate for each other, both of them afraid, I knew.

Just like Father, Lola would choose Nic.

Something in me snapped. I dragged her out of there in spite of her pleas, lied over and over and over because it felt like I was clinging to my value by the scraps of my torn-apart fingernails, desperate to avoid what I knew would destroy me once and for all.

“I am not a fool,” I say, leveling Nic with a glare. “You cared for her.”

He shrugs. “No, you aren’t. Which is why it’s so perplexing when you act like one.”

“What happened to you?” I ask.

He settles a heavy hand on my shoulder. “Have you heard about Nocturne’s game?”

“Of course I have. What does that have to do with—”

“Do you plan to compete?”

I narrow my eyes, searching his face. “Maybe. Do you?”

“Take my advice, Enz.” His gaze is so sharp it almost hurts. “Stay out of it.”

I pull out of his grasp, the unsettling weight in my stomach twisting deeper. “Not sure if you’ve noticed, but I don’t take orders from you.”

“Enzo.” He steps forward, that iciness in his eyes bright as he levels me with a serious stare. He grasps my hand in a firm handshake, and something cold and sharp pierces my palm. “Reconsider.”

“What is—”

He melts into nothingness, and I grind my teeth, opening my fist to glimpse a chunk of voratium. A die glowing a multicolor ebony storm.

Growling, I shove it into my pocket. He wants me to think he’s giving me secrets, but I spent four years trying to get them out of him.

He only gives me grief, and the last thing I’m going to do is fall for another one of his manipulations.

CHAPTER TWENTY

LOLA

Noonday glow gilds the sky as Arden and I hurtle through Aethera in the back of a cab to seek out my father.

“Help me with these cuff links, would you, darling?” Arden asks, holding out a sleeve.

“Of course.” I fiddle with the gemstone closures as tension mounts in my stomach. I’ve had a dozen meetings with my father over the past few weeks, but no matter how many times I do, the nerves never dissipate.

Thankfully Arden, who, in true Arden fashion, spent all morning worrying about every single possible worst-case scenario for this job, has slotted fully into his con artist mentality. Ever since we left the Brig, he’s been the picture of calm, and thank the gods for it, because I think I’d lose my mind otherwise.

He’s dressed to the nines, sporting one of the most expensive suits I’ve ever seen. Glittering black stitching accentuates its crisp lines. A silken cravat of the highest quality shines at his throat.

“There. That should do it,” I say, releasing his sleeve.