Theo does nothing. He looks at his cards with the same mild interest regardless of what they are.
He bets in amounts that appear random but aren't. I can see it now, watching from above, the way the bet sizes shift with the count. He adjusts the clear-lensed glasses. He sips a club soda. He is doing the single most difficult thing a card counter can do, which is winning consistently while appearing to win by luck, and he is doing it well enough that my pit boss, a man named Stokes, who has years of experience, took an hour and a half to flag him.
I rewind and watch again. This time I ignore the other players and focus only on his hands. They're completely still, between bets. There’s no fidgeting, no drumming, no nervous motion. I noticed the same in the security room. His hands stayed flat and steady, while Viktor discussed disposing of his body.
"I'm not going to let him go," I say.
Viktor doesn't react immediately. He already knew this. He knew it the moment he realized that Theo was my prime match.
"We’ll have to play it carefully. The Castellanos have been watching us for months," he says. "If he’s working for them, then you’re playing right into their hands. Best set him loose."
Viktor knows I’m not going to agree but it’s his job to point out when his boss is being an idiot.
"I know. We’ll be careful. Have him monitored twenty-four seven. I don’t want him scratching his nose without me getting a full security report.”
"You’re going to have to tell your father." Viktor's voice drops. My father has eyes in this building that I've never been able to identify. There are people who report to him directly, who bypass Viktor, who bypass me. It's the leash he never took off, the one I pretend doesn't exist.
"I'll handle him." My father is going to hate this. I don’t care. Theo is mine. He belongs under my roof and under my control.
"I'll offer the omega the deal he wants," I say. "It gives him a reason to cooperate, and it gives us time to find out whether he's connected to the Castellanos."
“Dom,” There’s a note of warning in Viktor’s voice. “This prime match shit is dangerous. It messes with alpha brains.”
“More reason to keep him here,” I reply. It also means that we both know that I have no intention of honoring the deal Theo wants. I can’t let him walk once he’s done. If the Castellanos aren’t using him against me now, they will as soon as they know who he is.
Besides, I don’t want to let him go. He's mine.
5. Theo
The suite has one door with an electronic lock with a red light that blinks every few seconds. The windows don't open.
I’m on the twenty-second floor, no balcony, no ledge. The glass is thick enough that I could throw every piece of furniture in this room at it and achieve nothing except noise.
I checked the bathroom. Small window, frosted, sealed. The phone has an internal line only. I picked it up, dialed nine for an outside line, got silence. It doesn’t matter. Who am I going to call?
There’s no way out.
The suite itself is ridiculous: king-sized bed, a sunken living area with massive flat screen TV, a bathroom with a walk-in shower and a separate bath. There’s a minibar stocked with bottles of water, wine, spirits, juice and an endless array of nuts, chocolate and candy. I eat four packets of the cashew nuts because why not? They can charge it to the rest of my bill. If I’m dead in the morning, it won’t matter.
I sit on the edge of the bed. It's past two in the morning. The only sound in the room is the hum of the air conditioning, which is set too cold. I've already tried adjusting it. The controls don't respond.
There are only three ways this can go:
One. Novikov refuses my offer. He kills me if I’m unlucky and just roughs me up if I’m a little more fortunate.
Two. He accepts the offer. I work for him. Find his cheating ring, stay useful, buy time. Use the time to figure out an exit strategy.
Three. He notifies the Bureau that I’m here. They'll enforce the match, which means compliance protocols, which means he’ll practically own me. At least death would be quick.
I don’t think he’s going to notify the Bureau. Alphas like him don’t volunteer their presence to government departments unless they have no other choice. And he already has me locked up. He doesn’t need the Bureau to enforce that.
I should sleep. I won't, but I should.
I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. The air conditioning hums. The red light blinks.
I close my eyes and my mother is there.
She's always there, when it's dark and quiet and I can't fill my head with numbers instead. She shows up the way she was before: not the hospital version, not the last time, but before. Standing at the kitchen counter in our apartment, slicing an apple. I'm sitting at the table with a coloring book. I'm six, maybe seven.
