I’d dropped him off at the Lane Building on my way to pick up my Little Thief, and things have already gone to shit, apparently.
My fingers tap rhythmically on the steering wheel as a grin breaks through. “Well, it’s the Lane Building, not the KoenBuilding after all,” I mutter, turning onto the street that leads to Glitter’s apartment building. “Besides, you’re the important twin anyway.”
“It says, ‘Happy Birthday Levi and Ken.’ Who the hell is Ken?” I can practically see him standing there, glaring at some poor event planner, looking ready to set the place on fire over a typo.
They should be happy it’smyname they spelled wrong.
He lets out another irritated noise, and I can’t help it. I laugh. “Relax. Nobody will notice. And if it makes you happy, I’ll go by Ken from now on.”
“You know what would make me happy?” Levi shoots back. “To be as unbothered as you are for once.”
“Just parked in front of her building,” I say, changing the subject. Cutting the engine, I lean back in my seat and try to gather my thoughts.
I’m not unbothered byher, that’s for sure.
I’d never had an issue with manipulating people. It was always a means to an end. And hell, it’s what I do best, but something about involving her makes me uneasy. Maybe it’s because I know how it feels to be used, or I’m afraid she’ll realize what we’re really doing here.
There’s a beat of silence on Levi’s end, and when he speaks again, his voice is softer, more thoughtful. “If Nicholas doesn’t fall for her the second he sees her, I don’t know what we’ll do either.”
“Right,” I murmur, staring up at the building. Despite myself, a small sense of anticipation unfurls inside me, slowly suffocating the guilt.
“I mean, it worked for you, too,” Levi adds, his grin practically audible. “Ever since you saw behind the glitter, you were a goner.”
“Shut up.” I roll my eyes, but there’s no real heat behind my words. “Just make sure they’ve spelled my name right by the time I get there.”
Levi’s answering laughter is abruptly cut off as I hang up. I step out of the Bronco, the night air cool against my skin as I close the door.
The way she moved on the Strip and handled herself under pressure, it wasn’t just good, it was impressive. Professional yet playful. That kind of skill doesn’t just happen. It’s honed, earned through years of making split-second decisions and owning every single one of them.
She isn’t a showgirl who got lucky. She’s sharp, capable, and hiding more than we probably realize beneath that bravado.
Maybe she won’t make us crash and burn after all.
As I step up to the door, my phone buzzes repeatedly in my pocket. It’s the group chat with the guys.
Alaric
Does she have a purse that matches the glittery shoes?
Sylus
Are you the fashion police now?
Alaric
No, but she’ll probably need one to pull the switcheroo.
I’ll make sure she brings one.
Levi
How would you know that her shoes are glittery?
I pause, arching an eyebrow as a picture notification pops up, an image from Alaric. It’s Glitter, neck down, showing off thedress in the store’s dressing room. No trace of her face or the burn on her shoulder, which doesn’t surprise me. The glitter and sparkle are her armor.
And she thinks her body is the only thing of worth.
I shake my head, frustration and something I can’t quite name filling me.
