Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Twenty-Two

Twenty-Two

8:20pm, 5 of 2,000 victor chips accumulated.

Mom would be the first one to win some victor chips. I was surprised she didn’t send some self-congratulatory emoji along with being the first one to update the “grand total” twidget Taiyō had pinned to the top of our encrypted chat.

As I entered the main floor of the casino for the first time, I took a moment to spot my team. Mylo and Noelia were a no-go, but that was to be expected. According to the plan, they were at the high-end poker tables. At the back of the first-floor balcony, I could see the first row of pool tables, where Mom was supposed to be hustling. Taiyō’s schedule had her set to rake up at least fifteen victor chips, so she still had some work to do. I thought I spied her glittery leggings, but no way to be sure.

Where was Taiyō again—around the pachinko machines right now? I kept a subtle eye out for him as I passed that area, but a familiar stride caught my eye. Was that…Devroe?

He was a vision in snug black jeans, a white button-down open just a button more than necessary, and a muscle-hugging navy-blue blazer. He didn’t appear to be doing much, just chatting it up with a stranger while he watched someone else play roulette.

What was he up to?

I was supposed to be at my first station in a couple minutes, eight thirty according to Taiyō’s schedule, but I couldn’t ignore the urge to snoop. I headed his way as covertly as I could. But when I got to the roulette tables, he was nowhere to be found. Until I did another scan. He was by one of the many bars, his attention undeniably on me. He nodded me his way.

Was he saying he wanted to talk to me?

It was probably a trap. But maybe it would be useful to see what he had to say…

I might have been about to take a step that way, but a gaggle of guests blew past me, and in the temporary chaos, a hand grabbed my arm, spinning me around. Taiyō had me walking the other way in under a second. “Ignore him,” he said.

“I wasn’t…Yeah, okay, sorry.”

“He’s not the only one here. I saw Kyung-soon enter from the lobby a few minutes ago. Run-ins might be inevitable, but you can’t let him or anyone else distract you, no matter your emotions.”

I took my arm back, rubbing it despite not being hurt. “I don’t have any emotions about any of this.”

“A wise word—denial never worked out in anyone’s favor in the long run,” Taiyō said. He was rocking a crisp three-piece dark-blue suit with a faint plaid design, complete with a waistcoat and an actual silver pocket watch, connected by a shimmering chain stretching from his pants to his coat pocket.

Taiyō reserved a spot at the nearest roulette table, and I did the same. My first job of the night was a two-person. We’d “luck” our way into about a hundred thousand together, then dip out. As expected, security was already distracted. Probably just having been alerted about possible suspicious activity at one of the blackjack tables.

Taiyō and I were already set up for success.

I looked up to the floor above. One of the bouncers outside the private card table area where Noelia and Mylo were located was frowning, talking into an earpiece.

Just starting to draw suspicion—we were on schedule.

“Emotions are not inherently a bad thing,” Taiyō said quietly. “But they can be pricey. You should decide if that’s a risk you want to take.”

Not inherently a bad thing. That was a take I hadn’t heard before. I wanted him to say more, but the dealer interrupted.

“Next, please.” The dealer waved us into the fray with a sweeping arm and a dangerous smile. A second before I moved, my phone dinged. Taiyō checked his smartwatch.

8:25pm, 10 of 2,000 victor chips accumulated.

Over my shoulder, I caught Devroe on his way to his next hit.

And of course, feeling my gaze, he turned my way. My head snapped back around.

Taiyō was right—this was risky indeed.

···

9:09pm, 92 of 2,000 victor chips accumulated.

This might have been the most brilliant job I’d ever pulled off. Scratch that: that we’d ever pulled off.

Taiyō’s plan was unfolding like clockwork. It may have been tempting fate maybe to say that only an hour in, but things really were going just that well. The bubbly high of “winning” more victor chips at one of the slot machines certainly didn’t hurt. I might have been more of a gambler at heart than I ever realized, because the cherries lining, the cheerful dings of the machine, and the overwhelming clatter of the chips sliding into the dispenser were among the most breathless things I’d ever experienced. For the first time in a few months, I felt like the luckiest girl in the world. So much so that I had to remind myself, no, there was no luck involved.

I dropped the new black chips into my bag and spun around on my red leather stool, tossing a quick glance at Taiyō, who was across the aisle perched at his own slot machine. Though his back was to me, I felt his gaze in the reflective surface of his machine. Him and his carefully made remote. Slot machines, the computerized ones, have a certain code that makes the cherries line up. How else would they know to trigger the coin release? Getting the code to line up was fairly easy with the right device. Courtesy of a married computer science couple who lost their savings in the ’08 crash. They decided to put their computer skills to work and almost got away with winning a million from slot machines—until one of them was caught red-handed with their magic device. Luckily, unlike the original couple, none of us had shaky arthritic hands that made constantly pressing a remote as obvious as it was for them.

This also went down in middle-of-nowhere Alaska over fifteen years ago, and never quite hit mainstream infamy. Niche enough that very few casinos had thought to correct the issue.

Hauling my white leather purse full of chips over my shoulder, I quickly updated the stats.

120 of 2,000 victor chips accumulated.

You eat an elephant one bite at a time.

I passed Taiyō right as he was heading toward his next area of attack. According to the schedule, Taiyō would be off to earn at least thirty chips in rummy right now. I was heading to the row of higher-jackpot slot machines for the next twenty minutes, to win at least ten more victor chips. The second row of machines was more packed than I would have liked, with a velvet rope anticipating a line, though I didn’t encounter one. Still, there was only one seat for me to take toward the middle.

Wagering a blue game chip, I won four victor chips on my first pull.

Using the remote was easy. Small and compact, it fit perfectly up my sleeve. Before I pulled the oversized lever on the side, I propped my elbow on the machine and my chin in my hand. It was all too easy to slip my hand inside and press the button I needed. The digital slots rolled for an eternity, but when they stopped, they landed in a matching set.

Virtual confetti exploded on the screen, and a single victor chip fell into the dispenser.

“Congratulations!” a woman with a bridesmaid sash slurred in my direction, almost tripping over herself. I gave her a smile as her giggling friends pulled her away. Behind them, one of the cocktail waitresses, this one with the same telltale martial arts bruises, held an empty platter behind her back as she patrolled. I skipped using the button on the next spin, earning a womp-womp from the machine. Satisfied, she moved on.

So it wasn’t just the bouncers to look out for. Seemed like the waiters and waitresses were trained to be on guard for suspicious activity too.

“Hey, lucky girl!” A hand grabbed my shoulder and spun me around on the stool. Another sloshed bridesmaid from the same party. She and about four other women and a guy in identical sashes were crowded around the machine directly behind me, where three uneven cherries were lined up. “Take a picture of us, pleeease?”

I wanted to say no, but the woman was already dropping her bedazzled phone in my hand. Fine, two seconds. I picked up my purse, because you never knew what thieves were lurking around, and took a step into the aisle as they waved me in. After spamming the photo button, I handed it back.

“You’re awesome,” she told me, and they all meandered away arm in arm.

I turned to my seat, only to find a hefty man in a black denim jacket and a fedora sitting in it.

“Uh…” Oh right, I had picked up my bag. The seat had probably looked empty.

Back to the machine the bridal party just left—

Taken by a supermodel-tall woman with a pixie cut. How the hell’d she get there so fast?

There had to be another machine somewhere. I still needed to earn another twenty chips here…

Taken. Taken. Taken.

Well, crap.

“Hi, miss, please don’t stand in the aisle. There’s a line for the slots forming over there, okay?” The same suspicious cocktail waitress from before touched my shoulder, silently pointing me to a line behind the velvet rope that hadn’t existed five minutes ago.

I pushed the remote higher up my sleeve, sweat starting to build in my hands. Taiyō had been pretty serious about not messing up his schedule. But what was the alternative to getting back in line? Throwing a fit and getting rewarded with another machine?

“Miss?” The expression on the waitress’s face was souring. Translation: Go get in line, or else. Attention wasn’t exactly what we needed either, and I was starting to draw it.

An arm snaked around my waist. Before I could comprehend what was happening, I landed with a little bounce in someone’s lap.

“No trouble. She was sitting with me.” Devroe’s voice was so near, I could feel the heat of his breath against my cheek, feel him smile at the woman.

It was a split-second decision. Go with it or ditch him, lose my spot, and probably draw even more attention.

Before I could think about it, I threw my arm around Devroe’s neck and—god help me—snuggled myself into the warmth of his chest, keeping my other hand covering the remote.

It took everything to keep my breath from hitching. God, he was firm, and smelled like mint and spice and everything right, and all of my dips and curves seemed to slot so perfectly into him.

The woman, satisfied, gave us a quick polite smile before moving on to another disturbance at the other end of the aisle. Devroe spun us around to the screen. I felt something like a chuckle in his chest.

“Don’t say anything,” I warned.

“I think it’d be weirder if we just sat here in silence.” He put his hand on the lever. “I was trying to get your attention earlier.”

“I didn’t see you.”

“Liar.”

He pulled. Another womp-womp from the machine.

“I was going to make a joke about you being my lucky charm, but I see that’s not the case.”

I scoffed, and inadvertently squirmed a little in his lap. Oh gosh, just thinking that. I was in Devroe’s lap .

As soon as another machine opened up, I would zip away, even if I had to kick someone out of the way to get to it.

“I see you’ve invited Taiyō onto your team.”

His leg moved just the slightest, and I made myself answer if only because talking was the best way to distract myself from this position, whether I wanted to chat or not.

“It’s not my team, it’s Count’s. And no one said we couldn’t invite a new member onto the team.”

“No, they didn’t.” He inserted another chip—curiously, a regular game chip—and pulled the lever again. Two cherries lined up, but the third fell short.

“What’s Team Baron’s plan for the game, then?” I asked. Devroe’s arm was still around my waist. “If you want to swipe something off of me this time, you’re going to have to actually commit and kill me.” My free hand had a death grip on the top of my purse. I’d be damned if I was going to let that happen again.

Devroe tensed at the word kill .

“My mum isn’t on the premises right now,” he said. “That’s why I wanted to talk to you. I think you should forfeit the game.”

I genuinely laughed. Reaching to hold on to something that wasn’t him, I pulled the lever next and managed to win three regular chips. Not much of a return, seeing as he’d deposited at least five since I…uh…sat down.

“Despite my antics, I’m not suicidal.” In pettiness, I stole the plain chips, which I had little use for. He didn’t stop me, but his arms suddenly felt snugger around my waist.

“Ross, I’m serious.” He turned my face to his. Him and his suddenly gentle eyes and furrowed brow and cinnamon-spice scent that I really wished I could forget about. “I’m trying to help. I don’t want to see anything happen to you.”

“If you care so much, then why did you join Team Baron? Why don’t you quit, and then we can talk.”

“I couldn’t just…” He sighed, deflating as he watched the slots for a second. “She’s my mum, Ross. I can’t just abandon her. I have to prove to her that I care. I feel…not good about all of this.”

“Boo-hoo for you and your guilt-ridden soul.”

“This is all she has left. It’s all she wants. My whole life, all she could talk about is Dad and how he deserves justice. If I didn’t help her now, she would know…she would think …” He paused. “I have to value Dad as much as she does, Ross.”

For a second it was just the music of the casino around us. Chimes and clinking glasses and laughter and cries and the clatter of chips.

“So I should just roll over and accept my fate, then. Make it easier for you by quitting.” My hand dug into his knee with each word; it must have stung, but he didn’t complain.

“I’m going to protect you.”

I matched his gaze, looking for the spark of a lie, a game. I didn’t find one, but I’d never been good at seeing those before, had I? You just had to assume the lies were there even if you couldn’t see them.

“Oh?” was all I could say.

“I talked to Baron. After we win, he’s agreed to grant me a wish too.” I held my breath. He went on. “When Mum wins, I’m going to make sure she can’t do anything to you. I swear.”

“And the rest of the Quests?”

“He’s only offered to let me wish one person out of harm.”

Just me. And Auntie, my grandparents, even Mum, they would still be as screwed as ever. Who the hell would make a trade like that?

“You must think I hate my family,” I said. “Believe it or not, estranged or whatever, I’m not keen to put them in front of your mum’s firing squad only to hide in your arms while it happens. Excellent pitch, by the way. Is the scare tactic one of the chapters in your playbook, or is this just right off the cuff?”

He stiffened. “That wasn’t what I was doing, and you know it. I’m just trying to protect you from the bloody inevitable, and this is the only play I’ve got.”

“If you really wanted to save me, you would’ve used the wish you already banked to stop this.”

“You think I haven’t tried that?” He yanked the lever. “I can’t use that until after this interim Gambit is over. I’m sure the organization doesn’t want me spoiling their fun.”

“You had a whole six months before to use it—”

“And wish for what? I didn’t know what Mum was doing, so it’s not like I could’ve wished to stop her.” He took a breath. “This new deal is the only option we have.”

“Well, thanks, but I think I’ll pass and put some cards on beating your mum. I know you think she’s infallible, but don’t forget we were the ones who came out on top after Antarctica. Take your arm off me.”

Schedule or no schedule, I wanted to get the hell away from him right now. I’d find another way to recoup those victor chips. Taiyō could ream me for it later.

Devroe reluctantly peeled his arm away, and I slid off his lap. But that left a breath of a second in which I was acutely aware of all the places we were and had been touching, and my body rebelled at the thought of leaving him.

He watched me with sad eyes, and I wanted to melt. God, why was he so beautiful? Everything about him was so flawless. His skin, his eyes, those lashes.

“That was the worst moment of my life,” he said, fiddling with his cuff. “When I pulled you out of the water. I thought you were…” He cleared his throat. “I won’t let that happen again. You can hate me for the rest of your life afterward, but I’m going to make sure you’re okay, even if I have to beat you to do it.”

He stood. We watched each other, eye to eye, for a long moment before he disappeared into the crowd.

I rubbed my chest, trying to tame my wild heart.

Even if it was real, if Devroe Kenzie wanted to save me, what did it matter? I had every intention of saving myself. I was the only person I could trust to do it.