Ugh, I’m an idiot.
Nicholas frowns. “Veronica will notice me wearing one.”
“So, you won’t,” Sylus says smoothly. “At least not until she knows that she’s fucked.”
“And what happens after?” I ask, turning to Koen. “When the show’s done, you’ve stolen a Lamborghini, and the Strip is buzzing with chaos?”
“We’re off to live a happy life elsewhere,” Sylus says smoothly, pulling me closer.
“And where would that be?” I arch a brow when he kisses up the side of my face.
“The plan was Malta.” Koen shrugs. “But I think Italy has a nice ring to it.”
“It does,” Ace agrees.
“I heard they have pretty good food,” Sylus whispers in my ear.
“What do you say, Snickers? Ever been to Italy?” Koen asks Nicholas.
“No, but I could get used to the idea.”
Italy. Tuscany.Rosalee’s dream.
My escape plan.
Find some crumbling villa surrounded by golden hills, sip wine under the stars, and forget about the ghosts that haunt me. I thought it was mine alone, something I’d chase after when everyone else was gone.
But it’s like they’re inviting themselves into that dream, not as intruders, but as partners.Family.It could be not just my escape.
It could be ours.
And the thought terrifies me. Not because I don’t want them there.God, I want that more than I’ve let myself admit. But because I’ve always imagined this ending with me alone. Now, I’m daring to picture something different. Koen’s laughter echoing through a sunlit kitchen, Nicholas lounging near the pool with Sylus doing embroidery next to him, and Ace and me playing cards in the shadow of a pine tree.
A life.With them.
I let my gaze drift across the room, taking in each of their faces. Koen with a confident smirk on his lips. Nicholas, skeptical but listening. Ace, with his eyes only on me. And Sylus, leaning against me with that maddening grin that says he’s ready to burn the world down if it means winning.
Still…
“This is insane,” I whisper, shaking my head.
“It’s brilliant,” Koen counters. “Trust us, Little Thief. We know what we’re doing.”
Do they?
Because as much as I want to believe in their plan, there’s a gnawing fear deep in my chest. If they’re wrong, if even one part of this elaborate, high-stakes spectacle goes off script, this doesn’t only end in failure.
It ends in flames.
Literally.
SEVENTEEN
The faint scent of vanilla and spices lingers in the air when I wake up, the kind that makes you want to sink deeper into the bed and forget the world exists.
Koen’s bed.
I vaguely remember falling asleep in Sylus’s arms on the couch again last night, half listening to Sylus and Nicholas bickering before Koen and he argued about where I should sleep. Judging by my current surroundings, Koen won.
