Page 16 of Silent Schemes

I hold her until she stops shaking, then send her back to her room.

Tomorrow, I'll meet Varrick Bane.

Tomorrow, I'll begin the game that ends with his death. But tonight, I plan. Not just his murder, but our escape.

Because Maya's right—if I succeed, our father will never let me go.

I'll be his primary weapon until someone finally manages to kill me.

And Maya will be next, groomed to take my place.

Unless I kill our father first.

The thought has been growing for months, taking root like a poisonous flower.

But killing our father isn't like killing his enemies.

He's paranoid, protected, always watching.

I'd need help.

I'd need someone equally dangerous, equally powerful.

Someone like Varrick Bane.

I push the thought away.

That's not the mission.

The mission is simple: seduce, extract information, execute.

But as I practice my draw one more time, I can't help but wonder—what if there's another way?

The memory of what I've been through the last couple of days fades as I stare at myself in the casino bathroom mirror.

My hands are steady as I apply another coat of red lipstick—the tube that conceals a three-inch blade.

The dress I chose tonight costs more than most people make in a month, designed to distract and disarm.

But Varrick Bane didn't look at the dress.

He looked atme.

Through me.

Like he could see every secret I've ever buried.

He knew who I was the moment I walked in.

I could see it in the way his body shifted, predator recognizing predator.

He should have had me dragged out.

Should have put a bullet in my head right there at the poker table.

Instead, he played along, even slipping his card into my pocket with fingers so deft I—a trained killer—didn't notice.

The violation of it should anger me.