Heist Royale (Thieves’ Gambit #2)

Chapter Twenty-Six

Twenty-Six

“I’m going to the bathroom.”

Kiah was at least “kind” enough to allow me that. Between rounds, the dealer held the game for me, and one of the bouncers escorted me to the second-floor restroom.

Passing the inner powder room, I found myself in an overwhelmingly maroon-and-red bathroom that reminded me of something out of The Shining in the worst ways right now. Noelia was primping her hair in front of the mirror at the farthest end. She probably figured I needed more help than Mylo at the moment. I made my way to the sink next to her.

“Didn’t expect to see you up here,” she said, the reflection of her eyes flicking to me.

“Things got twisted,” I said. “I just ran into him. I’m not going to be able to finish downstairs now—”

“Oh, you don’t say?” She whispered something to herself in French about me and chaos running into each other.

“I don’t ask for this stuff to happen,” I snapped back in English, which seemed to surprise her.

“Can your mom and Taiyō handle the rest of the mini jobs without you?” she asked, applying some mascara.

“I don’t think so,” I admitted, lathering up my hands with a seafoam-scented soap. “Taiyō planned things so meticulously. Take out a cog and—”

“We’re screwed.” She twisted the mascara cap on a little too tightly. “I can go. You and Mylo already have the distraction thing covered.”

“Do you know how to place the remotes on the slot machines?” I asked. “Or apply the magnets Taiyō brought to the roulette table? Or jimmy the high-stakes pinball machines?”

Noelia’s lips drew into a straight line. Me, Mom, and Taiyō had spent the last twenty or so hours learning and polishing those skills. She wasn’t prepared to execute that side of the job.

She thrummed her nails over the sink. “Mylo would be able to catch on.”

He would. If someone had to trade with me, Mylo was the ideal choice.

“He can’t just leave, though,” I said. “Hart’s, like, this close to having me taken out back and shot or whatever. He already hinted that he thinks it’s sus we’re close to the same age. He wants to keep an eye on both of us. If Mylo cashes out now and leaves, I have a feeling he’ll be tagged for the rest of the night.”

“What if he just abandoned his winnings?”

“Who the hell would do that? It’d be even more sus.”

“He could start losing?”

“As soon as we need him to? That’s just as bad.”

Noelia laced her hands behind her back. “Such a Catch-22,” she decided. “So we need a way for Mylo to be able to leave without taking the money, which is a very weird thing to do, but without drawing suspicion if he takes your spot downstairs.” She cocked a brow at me.

Oh, she was expecting me to have figured it out already.

“I don’t freaking know!”

She checked her phone again. “It’s been a while. Go back, I’ll text Taiyō. Maybe there’s a previous protocol for this we didn’t know about.”

Honestly, if someone had already lived through this exact situation and come out on top right now, I was quitting the organization and going to work for them.

With a feeling of urgency, desperation, and all the other worst feelings in the world, I headed out of the bathroom. My security escort was on my heels until I was safely seated again at Kiah’s side.

“I was starting to think you weren’t coming back,” he said.

“There weren’t any windows for me to shimmy out of.”

He smirked, like he might say something else threatening or smart, but I was not here for it. “Can we start the next round?” I asked the dealer, who, frustratingly, turned the question to Kiah. Only then did we get the okay to play.

A familiar figure over the edge of Kiah’s shoulder caught my eye. My gaze narrowed, but I tried not to draw attention to it. I might not have noticed at all if Noelia hadn’t given him a noticeable once-over.

Oh god, as if things couldn’t get any worse. Now Devroe was hovering on the floor. Was he spying on me now too?

Ignore him. You have work to do.

The first card felt slippery between my fingers. Not gonna lie, if I hadn’t been so well trained, my hands might have been shaking. Failure was starting to unfold oh-so clearly in front of me. No win, and the cherry on top would be having to fight my way out of a back-alley brawl, if I could.

How cringey would it be to admit this failure to Mom?

Of all the things in the world, why was that on my mind?

I checked my watch. Past midnight now. Half the night was gone, and for all I knew, this hiccup was going to eat up the rest for me and, at the moment, the more valuable Mylo.

“What are you doing?”

Taiyō, speaking louder than I thought I’d ever heard him speak before, was standing behind Mylo. He’d somehow shouldered through the people behind us and approached the table with a certain authoritative swagger. Through his glasses, his gaze was leveled solely on Mylo. I swallowed a gasp. What was going on here?

Mylo cleared his throat. “Um, I…” He squirmed. Whatever Taiyō was doing, we were off script.

“You’ve been gone for three hours,” Taiyō continued, gesturing his hand in an expert display of controlled exacerbation. “And you haven’t been answering your phone or texts.”

“I—” It clicked, and Mylo relaxed into the role in the flash of a moment, even faster than I put it together. “I told you I was going to the tables, babe.”

“Not the second floor. I was running around the first-floor tables looking for you like a fool for the past hour! What the hell?” Taiyō bit the inside of his cheek and huffed; it was on point and flustered and angry and a little adorable. So much so that I almost believed it for a second, and watched carefully. Just as Kiah was.

Taiyō dropped his voice to a whisper, but one of those that everyone around you can still hear. But maybe you want them to hear because you’re the kind of person who doesn’t mind making a scene when you’re pissed. “You said I was going to be the priority tonight.”

“You’re always the priority!” Mylo insisted, nailing this soap opera perfectly. Taiyō narrowed his eyes doubtfully. “Look, um, I’m gonna finish this game and then we’ll—”

Taiyō closed the distance between them, pressing his lips to Mylo’s. The crowd gasped; this was the turning point in the drama, and they seemed addicted. Mylo melted into it instantly, grabbed the lapels of Taiyō’s jacket, while Taiyō cupped his face. Even to me, for that moment, it didn’t look like either of them were acting. And when Taiyō pulled back and straightened his glasses, Mylo’s kiss-flushed face sold it all.

“I’m tired of the games. Pick one.” With that, Taiyō strode away, leaving all of us, Mylo in particular, to watch him go.

Mylo jumped up so fast, he almost knocked his chair over. “I…um…I’m out.” He ran a hand through his hair, still flustered and looking more boyish than I’d ever seen him. He took off after Taiyō.

“Sir!” the dealer called, slowing him down for a second. “You can’t leave your chips like this. Are you forfeiting?”

Mylo glanced at the chips, then back Taiyō’s direction. “Keep them!” And he was gone.

Well, that was one way to get us out of that situation.