He pulls out his phone with exaggerated care, unlocks it, shows me the screen. Text messages between him and Silas, timestamped throughout the day.
Silas: The girl is a problem. Blake is compromised. We move tonight. Everything must be clean.
Nico: Define clean.
Silas: No witnesses. No loose ends. No one left who can challenge our claim.
Nico: That's a lot of bodies.
Silas: It's necessary. You're either with the family or against it. Choose.
I scroll through more messages where I see logistics, timelines, and names I recognize. Edmund Kingsley. His children. Board members. Even some Hollow Club members who have apparently become liabilities.
He never says explicitly the words "kill" or "murder,” but it's absolutely a hit list disguised as a business plan.
"Jesus," I breathe.
"Yeah." Nico pockets his phone. "So you understand why I'm here. We stop this tonight, or Wintervale wakes up tomorrow with a dozen dead bodies and Silas controlling everything."
Peyton moves beside me, reads over my shoulder. Her face goes pale. "My name is on there."
"Last entry," Nico confirms. "Listed under 'contingency if primary plan fails.' Meaning if they can't control you, they'll eliminate you."
"They've been planning this for months," I say, pieces clicking together. "The threats against her father. The surveillance. Even bringing me back. It was all part of a power grab.”
"You were supposed to deliver her to Silas compliant, signed, and useful. When you went rogue, Silas had to accelerate the plan.” Nico's expression is grim. "He's desperate now. Which makes him more dangerous."
I hand back his phone and make a decision that could cost us everything. "What's the method? How's he planning to kill them? Fire? A bomb? What?”
"I don't know. That's what I'm trying to tell you. What you read is all I know. The only details I have are that it may go down between nine and midnight, based on what I overheard." Nico looks between us. "But if we're there, if we're paying attention, maybe we can spot it. Stop it before it happens."
"Or walk directly into the trap he's set," Peyton says, sucking her teeth. “I don’t understand how a man who’s as calculating as you say Silas is would plan something this…messy.”
"Maybe it is a trap. But what's the alternative? Let them all die?" Nico's voice rises. "These are people, Blake. Yeah, they're corrupt, and sure, they've profited from some of the same shit Silas has, but they don't deserve to be massacred at a Christmas party. None of us is a saint.”
He's not wrong.
"Give us a minute," I tell Nico.
"Blake—"
"A minute, Nico.”
He nods and moves to the far end of the bar. Out of earshot but not out of sight.
I turn to Peyton. "What do you think?"
"I think he's either genuinely trying to help or he's the best liar I've ever met." She keeps her voice low. "The messages looked real. The fear in his eyes looked real. But that doesn't mean it's not orchestrated."
"Agreed, but I don’t understand what the hustle would be of sending him to tell us this. We were already going to the gala anyway. Silas knows that.”
"Or Nico could be telling the truth." Peyton's eyes are sharp, calculating. “And now we know we’re walking into a much more dangerous situation than we realized.”
"If it's real, and we don't go, twelve people die. Including possibly Edmund, who's the only Kingsley left who may know something about your mother's murder,” I say carefully.
"And if it's a trap, we walk into an ambush designed specifically for us."
"Then we go prepared. Armed. With backup." I pull out my phone. "I'll call Talia. I also suggest you decide whether you’ll take Helena up on her offer. If so, we tell her what we know so we don't go in blind."
