Vanya points a finger at Chet. “You betrayed us?”
Chet’s lips twitch, but he doesn’t say a word.
Rouge takes a step toward us. “I don’t know how many times you have to learn this lesson, but Chet remains loyal to me and me alone. Miss Maravilla and Mr. Hathaway made the mistake of placing their confidence in him, and you saw what happened to them.” She pulls a smartphone from her bosom, taps on the screen a few times, and displays a screen.
My heart sinks. It’s a video feed of the ICU rooms where Alissa and Maddox are recovering.
“You knew?” I ask, my lip trembling.
Rouge cackles. “Baby sister, nothing goes on in this city that I’m not aware of. Within an hour of your little rescue from the Caterpillar, I knew what had happened.” She tents her fingers, stares us all down. “Always let your enemies think they’re in control. The more vividly the mirage of power gleams, the tighter your grasp upon their fate.”
A chill runs down my spine at Rouge’s words. She’s right. She’s been playing us for fools this whole time.
“At least let Carol and Lou go,” Harrison pleads. “You win, Rouge. We’ll play along. But they have nothing to do with this.”
The meekness of Harrison’s voice terrifies me. I’ve never heard him speak like this before.
Rouge has broken him.
It’s all over.
“Why do you care about these people?” Rouge asks, waving her knife over their bound bodies. “They live only because of the sacrifice of the Seven of Spades. Her death gave them life. You care about her, so you should hate them for what they’ve stolen.”
“They didn’t know what they were doing,” I respond. “All they knew is that organs matching their profile became available.”
“At the last minute,” Rouge continues. “Inexplicably. The two of them signed a form saying they would refuse treatment if matches were not found within a month. And then, like manna from heaven, a match arrives.” She twists her lips. “I’m not a wicked witch, like you think. I’m a miracle worker. A diviner of life.”
I spot Harrison and Vanya slowly slinking along the wall through the corner of my eye. Rouge hasn’t noticed. She’s keeping her focus on me, her stupid little sister.
Maybe there’s a chance we can gain the upper hand, but I have to keep her talking.
I scoff. “You can try to substantiate your actions in whatever way you want. But those diamonds around your neck”—I point—“were earned through blood. Blood and blood alone. No wonder they’re red.”
“These diamonds have paid for every part of your livelihood. From before you were even a zygote in the womb, they have been keeping you living the best life possible.”
“I don’t need you. I lived for ten years in New York City without our family’s financial assistance.”
She lets out a haughty laugh at that. “Oh, yes. My sweet, demure little sister who attempted to sleep her way to the top and still couldn’t land her gig.”
I widen my eyes. “How do you know about that?”
Rouge rolls her eyes. “You really don’t get it. Who do you think called up the man who ran Skylight Productions? Who got you in that room? And who made sure, after you gave your greatest asset—your body—to the man running the audition, that you didn’t get the role?”
I cock my head. “No… You were too busy running Aces.”
“Yes, and I needed a singer. But I needed to ensure she would also be willing to sell herself. So I devised a little social experiment. I wanted to see what you would do if push came to shove. And you performed flawlessly.”
I swallow. “You’re making this up.”
“The mirage of power. I’ve been controlling every move you’ve made, Bianca, ever since”—her gaze darkens—“our days playing in our family’s basement.”
I almost lose my footing at her words.
She’s right. She’s been playing me like a fucking fiddle from my birth.
And she did it so flawlessly that I never had a damned clue.
I’m devastated. My life has never been my own.
