Nicholas’s gaze slides past me to Novalee, who’s still holding my hand. Her fingers squeeze mine when his eyes find her, and I catch the slight stiffening in her posture.
Fuck.Poor Little Thief.
I squeeze her hand back in reassurance, letting my thumb trace circles on her skin. It’s subtle, but I know she feels it when her shoulders relax a bit.
Nicholas turns back to me, his jaw tightening. “I still wasn’t able to get the evidence you need.”
“You will.” I try to reassure him because I see how much it’s eating at him, and I need his confidence to pull this off. “Even with your mother, earning trust doesn’t happen overnight.”
The words are barely out of my mouth when Nicholas’s eyes flick to Novalee again.
Did I just put my foot in my mouth?
He doesn’t call me out, though. Instead, he straightens, pushing himself off the car. “Okay, follow me.”
He walkstoward the Mercedes, and I shout after him. “Hey! When will I get my car back?”
Without breaking stride, he calls over his shoulder, “It’s my turn, Copy.”
I groan, but there’s a grin tugging at my lips. Maybe fixing thiswillbe easier than expected.
I glance at Novalee, whose eyes are still on Nicholas’s retreating figure. She’s quiet, but there’s a storm of emotions in her expression—longing, hurt, regret.
“You okay?” I ask, squeezing her hand again.
She blinks, pulling her gaze back to me. Her lips curve into a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah. Let’s get this over with.”
I nod, starting the Bronco and following Nicholas toward the Heights. He drives into the underground garage, leaving Novalee and me to park outside and walk into the main lobby. She mutters under her breath, “I don’t like this hotel.” Her arms brush close to her sides as if she’s trying to protect herself. There’s a subtle shudder that ripples through her, and I feel a pang of guilt twist in my chest.
She got shot here.And as much as I want to tell her she doesn’t have to do this, I also know she’s too damn brave to back out now. She doesn’t complain, doesn’t protest, just walks in with her head held high, but the tension is obvious in her every step.
And even more guilt gnaws at me for not checking in on her enough.
I should’ve asked how her wound is healing, anything to make sure she’s okay. But no. I’ve been too wrapped up with Levi, too busy obsessing over making this new coin act in Uncle Oscar’s memory flawless for the show. Normally, illusions of this level take months to prepare, but we’ve got less than two weeks.
It’s another reason why I’ve warmed up to the idea of sharing her with my brothers. I was only able to concentrate on something else because I knew Sylus and Ric had her.
Doesn’t make my lack of care any better, though.
“How’s your arm?”
She shrugs nonchalantly. “Oh, good. It hurts a little when I move, but nothing bad at all. It just looks… not so nice right now.”
“There’s no way anything about you could look bad.” The words come out easily, and I chuckle at the way she rolls her eyes.
“Shut up.”
“It’s the truth.”
I want to grab her hand to ground both of us, but I can’t. Not here, not in Veronica’s territory, when she still thinks we’re cousins and Novalee is Nicholas’s girl. Every move we make has to feed that illusion.
We come to a stop in the middle of the lobby, tourists and guests swarming around us. My name is murmured more than once, but I ignore it, and nobody openly addresses me.
“Please don’t look like a kicked puppy when Nicholas comes back. Veronica has to think you’re madly in love.”
Her eyes flash, a hint of indignation sparking there. “I don’t look like a kicked puppy.”
I raise a brow at her, my expression making it clear I don’t buy that for a second.
