Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Seventeen

Seventeen

Twelve missed calls. Thirteen missed calls. Fourteen missed calls.

Devroe

Please answer.

I’m sorry. Please let me explain.

Fifteen missed calls.

I watched the notifications rack up under the mountain of heating pads the medical officer layered over me. According to this Argentinian military freighter’s doctor, I had been on the cusp of full-blown hypothermia by the time we got here. Probably explained why I barely remembered the Zodiac ride or anything, really, before coming back to myself in this windowless triage room. As soon as I had phone connection again, it was vibrating nonstop.

Sixteen missed calls. Seventeen missed calls.

Finally he stopped, and I thought he’d given up.

Devroe

What choice did I have? You’re trying to protect your family, and I’m trying to protect mine.

I sat up a little in my heap of heating pads. What did he mean, protect his family? No one was trying to slaughter his.

Was I missing information? Maybe, but I’d jump back into the ice before I actually returned one of these calls.

With a yell, I hurled my phone against the wall. Noelia, having arrived at just the wrong time, twisted out of the way. She picked up my phone, brushing it off. “This is the same phone you had during the Gambit. You must have the sturdiest phone case on earth.”

I huffed in place of a laugh, sinking back into my heated cocoon. Thankfully, Noelia said nothing about the missed calls and texts. Instead she opened up Netflix, scoffing at my Currently Watching list. “Are K-drama romances all you watch?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“They’re so slow-paced. And melodramatic. Unrealistically fantastical.”

“That’s what makes them—” I sighed. “Never mind.” Guess I wouldn’t be having any K-drama watch parties with Noelia in the future. Now that Kyung-soon was gone, maybe I’d never get to do that again.

Noelia sat at the foot of my bed, now in joggers and a turtleneck instead of snow clothes. She looked perfectly airy and composed, which was probably quite the juxtaposition to me right now.

She gave me a pitiful smile. “Kenzie sucks.”

“Yeah.”

Why hadn’t I reached out to Noelia sooner? Even if we wouldn’t have watched K-dramas together, I wasted so much time because I thought being the first to reach out would be uncomfortable.

Another note for the list:

Get to know Noelia better.

A notification on my phone stole both of our attention.

Count

tablet

What tablet?

“Someone needs to ban this woman from emojis,” Noelia said.

Before I could voice my thought about the missing tablet, Mylo burst into the triage room, waving said tablet. “Looky what I found! Okay, I didn’t find it, some lackey in the mess hall gave it to me.” He offered me a Styrofoam cup. “Drink coffee. It’ll warm you up.”

The “coffee” was more like a cup of sugar milk teased with coffee, but I appreciated the gesture, so I took a few sips before handing it off to Noelia. Just in time, a video request lit up the tablet. Mylo swooped to the other side of my bed, and I felt perfectly cuddled between my friends.

The screen clicked on. Count, sipping tea in some sort of baroque foyer, filled the screen. “Acceptable work. Phase one has officially been declared my win.” She raised a hand, and a uniformed maid retrieved her teacup and saucer. “We’re only one win away from us all getting what we want now.”

“You’re very welcome,” Mylo said. “Maybe some of us deserve a high-performance bonus for this one?”

“Being on my good side is a generous bonus.”

“Why isn’t my mom on?” I asked.

“The senior Ms.Quest is on her way to meet you. I’ve already briefed her on the next phase. What do you know about casinos?”

“YES,” Mylo said.

“I’ll translate that to ‘a lot,’?” Noelia said.

“Casinos in Monte Carlo specifically.” Count’s video minimized, and a new image overtook the screen. A vibrantly colored building that looked like it was rising out of a sparkling sea. It wasn’t the type of place I would’ve thought was a casino, actually. Instead, it was reminiscent of a resort or castle. Though the trim of lively lights did lean toward something more electric than a stuffy old castle.

“Oh!” Mylo closed his eyes briefly in contemplation. “That’s Hart’s Caye. Most profitable hotel in Monaco. They’re totally high-end. There’s a dress code just to get to the lower-tier slot machines. And the levels of exclusivity go up from there.”

“So I’m guessing you’ve been there?” Noelia asked.

“Once. My French wasn’t that great at the time, so I didn’t have as much fun as I could have.”

Count’s eyes sharpened into a glare. “You didn’t do anything to be remembered, did you?”

“Course not!” Mylo threw his hands up. “Never in my life have I been tagged at a casino for anything, and you can put some money on that, Your Countliness.”

Count inclined her head a touch. Good enough for her…for now.

“What’s your beef with the casino?” I asked.

“The owner of the property, one Quinton Hart. He’s become a bit of a rival to the organization the past couple of years. I won’t go into detail with you, but I’ll say while not a member of our group, he brushes shoulders with many of our…esteemed clientele.” Count brought her tablet back into her lap, curling her long fingers over the side. “No one does well at his casino. Many of our members have lost embarrassing amounts of money and…other things at his casino.”

“Other things?” I questioned.

“I’m sure Mr.Michaelson saw only the lower floors during his brief visit, but Hart’s is a place where people of a certain level of society can gamble much more valuable things than money. You can cash almost anything in for chips at Hart’s if you’re talking to the right dealers. Money, homes, secrets…people.”

A shudder ran down my spine at that last one, and even Count looked a little uneasy adding it. A casino where you could cash in with way more than cash. Sounded like something out of a dark nightmare.

Count went on. “Some members of our organization have lost very valuable things to Mr.Hart. Usually this would be no issue. Our funds are near limitless, and resources vast. There’s almost nothing that couldn’t be bought back, if this were a normal casino. But Hart’s doesn’t play by the rules.”

“Right.” Mylo collapsed back into his seat. “The currency system. I almost forgot about that.”

“Indeed,” Count concurred.

Noelia and I exchanged an inquisitive look.

Mylo was the one to pick up the ball, though. “When you enter Hart’s, it’s kind of like entering a different country, if I remember correctly.” He rubbed his chin, frowning at nothing but his own memory. “Not only is there security out the ass—pretty standard for casinos—but there’s a different currency inside too. Hart dollars. You buy in with them, and every time you play a game, whether it’s the slots or roulette or cards, you get paid out in Hart dollars. It was super weird, now that I’m thinking about it. Everything was in Harts. The souvenir shop, the drinks, even the valet fee.”

“So he has people playing with his own Monopoly money inside his own little kingdom,” I said. “How…cute?”

Count made a noncommittal sound. “Mr.Hart’s unique currency within his building, paired with the unique way in which he allows you to buy in, is the problem.” She leaned forward. “First, anyone can buy in at Hart’s. However, you can only buy in with money once. After that, the only way to buy in is to trade something else for Harts. A property, information, a person. They all become a part of Hart’s exclusive catalog, where the only currency to purchase something is with Hart’s own currency. You can imagine the predicament someone might find themself in if they start with a ridiculous amount of money, lose it all, then decide to cash in something a little more precious. Perhaps a beloved vacation home. Then they lose that too. Then they trade something compromising about themselves, convinced they’re going to win everything back. They lose again. On and on it goes.”

“How exactly do you trade a secret? It’s not very secret once you’ve told it,” Noelia said.

“From what I’ve heard, the people who record and appraise secrets at Hart’s are paid overwhelmingly well for their discretion. They also tend to disappear before they can think of cutting ties with the casino.”

“Okay…” I shifted, leaning my elbows on my knees, thinking it all through. “So you only get to buy into Hart’s with cash once; after that, it requires more. But since casinos are pretty much designed for you to lose, it’s a death trap—”

Noelia snorted. “Which usually wouldn’t be a problem for people who have more money than they know what to do with. It’s one thing to lose a couple hundred thousand on a bad streak and a whole other to lose a scandalous tape of you and your secretary.”

“Precisely,” Count sighed, as if this particular issue had been irking her for quite a while. “Continuing to buy in, for several of our members, in an attempt to earn out hasn’t quite worked. The only way to get back what they’ve lost is to win it back.”

I smirked. “Or steal it.”

Count matched my smile. “Yes, or that.”

Count leaned back, crossing her legs. “The Hart dollars that special guests at Hart’s Casino play with are worth significantly more than the current US dollar. In order to have enough to cash in for all the…valuables my esteemed associates have lost over the last couple of years, I’ll need at least twenty million Hart dollars.”

Mylo coughed. “What the hell?”

My jaw almost dropped. Twenty million in a currency that she just said was actually worth a bunch more than the average US dollar? That was…a bit much.

Count ignored us. “Having made a handful of…unsuccessful attempts to recoup this sum in the past, I’d recommend getting the job done in one visit. You need to succeed in a single night.”

“Unsuccessful attempts. So who died?” I asked.

Count waved the thought away. “No one you should concern yourself with.”

“Wait, so people really did die?” Mylo asked.

And as usual, Count didn’t give a response. “It would appear Mr.Hart has very adept systems in place to alert him when people are attempting to cheat him or his casino. The last two infiltrations I arranged, which both were scheduled to run for a span of time, ended in failures less than three nights in. One ended the second night, after recouping less than half a million. Therefore, it’s my conclusion that extending this job into anything other than a one-night affair would not be to our advantage. Not to mention, we need to succeed before Baron’s team does.”

Before Baron’s team. How fortuitous that the organization had this little game of champions taking place. They could not only reap the winnings of one team of experts, but two. Even if neither of us managed to hit the number they wanted, but both came away with, say, ten million in wins, they’d still have what they wanted.

“Twenty million dollars’ worth of special chips in one night.” Noelia tucked her hair behind her ears. “How much time do we have?”

“The phase has already started,” Count said. “Today is Wednesday—however, Hart’s is at its busiest on Friday and Saturday nights. Those are also the only nights the casino is fully functional, and the only nights certain types of chips can be acquired. We have two days until you can enter the casino.”

“A whole two days to figure out how to plan a twenty-million-plus heist at a murderous casino. You’re too generous, Count.” Mylo tipped an invisible hat to her.

At that, Count sighed. “I’m neither here to be generous nor to tell you how to get something done. Figure out a plan and let me know when you have. Don’t forget that we all need to win this.” She once-overed us like we were grade-schoolers before clicking off.

“Sooo,” Mylo said, expert tension breaker, at least in his own head. “Twenty million, before Team Devroe. In Monte Carlo. One night. Don’t get murdered. Any ideas?”