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19

They became so engrossed with winning,

they forgot to care about those who lost.

After passing through the grand gates of the casino, Khalani entered a lavish golden room that left her speechless. Hundreds of unfamiliar machines covered the red-carpeted floor, surrounded by a sea of eager people who kept pulling levers and pressing flashing buttons.

It seemed like the entire population of Hermes had gathered inside the building.

The air buzzed with boisterous cheers, and she coughed as the thick aroma of cigarettes and clashing perfumes filled her lungs.

The rich opulence covered every facet of the room, down to the tiniest details.

Khalani’s gaze lifted to the dome ceiling, captivated by a breathtaking mural that was crafted out of diamonds, rubies, and gold. Her eyes swept over the beautiful angels drifting above shimmering clouds, and she tilted her head back further, losing herself in the image.

“Close your mouth. Don’t look like you’ve never been here,” Raziel reprimanded, casting a sidelong glance at her.

“I don’t understand,” she stammered, looking around in pure awe. “Why are all these people here?”

“The casino is where people gamble.”

Her brows knitted in confusion, prompting him to sigh.

“It’s where people play games to win money. They wager their own funds, hoping to make more in return. Naturally, the casino has ways to ensure it always wins in the end, but people keep returning every night, trying to recover what they’ve lost. Some gamble away their housing allowance, money for food, or even their children’s education. It’s a vicious cycle this place thrives on.”

“That’s horrible.”

Raziel shrugged. “Losing is good for business. Desperate people do desperate things.”

Takeshi held himself still as he observed the scene with a quiet intensity, his posture unnervingly rigid.

As they moved deeper into the grand space, the lever machines gave way to tables covered in green felt. Some mid-sized tables were surrounded by people intently studying cards, while others had large crowds cheering as someone threw tiny white blocks across them. Men and women shouted and cheered as if their deepest wishes were being granted.

Her gaze flickered to the intimidating guards lining the walls.

Unlike the guests, they wore black metal vests, visible earpieces, and held guns.

The Dealers.

They surveyed the room like bloodthirsty sharks, the kind Winnie had once mentioned lurked in the ocean.

Khalani ducked her head as Raziel led them to a secluded corner where only a few people were playing on machines, lost in their own world.

One of the Dealers stood with his arms crossed and back against the golden wall. He had a sizable frame, a sharp buzz cut, and a neatly combed mustache. His gaze drifted past Khalani and Takeshi, narrowing on Raziel.

“You’re late,” the Dealer grumbled as Raziel approached.

“If I recall, Sylas, the Aces are always on time. Isn’t that what you meant to say?” Raziel inclined his head, and the subtle threat hung in the air.

Sylas swallowed hard, and after a moment his eyes dropped in concession.

“My mistake,” he muttered.

“Splendid.” Raziel’s voice brightened. “Did you get the files I sent?”

The Dealer shifted uncomfortably as he pulled a screened device from his pocket. “Yes. These the Davenhue’s?” He held up the screen, which displayed Khalani and Takeshi’s faces along with their bios.

Clarence and Mars Davenhue.

Ages twenty-one and twenty-five.

Residents of the Second Quarter.

Owners of a bakery.

No children.

Rebellion Sympathizers.

When did Raziel get pictures of them? Takeshi was even smiling in the photo. Smiling.

“In the flesh,” Raziel grinned, patting Khalani and Takeshi on the back.

Sylas’s gaze darted anxiously between them before he nodded, placing the screened device back in his pocket.

“The drop will happen at two a.m. in the Seven Diamonds Lounge. The Davenhues are expected to be early and intoxicated. The Dealers can’t sense anything amiss. Do you understand?”

“They understand,” Raziel said on their behalf.

The two a.m. deadline was only a couple hours away—two hours before they’d be willingly taken into custody and transported to an unknown camp.

She picked at the skin around her nails, eyeing the exit.

Maybe the Aces knew of some other girl that wanted to be behind bars. If Khalani left now, she might be able to escape…

But Serene and Winnie’s faces flashed in her mind, and she relinquished her painful grip, realizing the truth.

The only way back was forward.

“And my debt to the Aces?” Sylas asked, swallowing hard.

“Your debt to the Aces will only be settled once we confirm they’re safe in the camp.” Raziel crossed his arms. “Any deviation from our plans, and I’ll make you pay your debt in full myself.”

Sylas’s face turned green. “I understand.” He glanced around. “I must go. Don’t forget, two a.m.” He hurried off, vanishing into the crowd without another word.

“Fucking rat,” Raziel hissed, glaring after him.

“What do we do now?” she whispered, chafing her fingers against the hem of her dress.

“We have some time. Let’s get a drink.” Raziel turned without another word and stalked across the room, heading toward a lavish bar decked with silver pillars and a marble counter.

Her feet didn’t move. Neither did Takeshi’s. They remained rooted in place, staring after their mysterious companion as the clock to their arrest ticked down.

“Why does it feel like we’re making a huge mistake?” she voiced.

“Because we likely are.”

“And yet, we’re still doing this.”

His black eyes flickered to her, lifting a brow. “Are you having second thoughts?”

She was. But it didn’t matter.

The moment Winnie wrapped Khalani in her arms, there was no turning back.

“No. We keep moving forward, like we always do.”

Khalani stood taller, letting the statement not just be words escaping the tongue but a belief within her mind. She recognized the tingles of anxiety coursing through her stomach, her chest, the tips of her fingers.

But no matter how deep her fears ran, she refused to let those negative thoughts paralyze her any longer. If Khalani was entering chains once more, she was going to do it with her chin lifted to the surface.

Takeshi tilted his head. “Spoken like someone who hasn’t given up fighting.”

She gave him a pointed look. “Who said I ever stopped?”

Without waiting for a response, Khalani started toward the bar. After a few steps, she subtly glanced over her shoulder to see Takeshi still standing there, his brow lowered, but an unmistakable flare of desire ignited in his eyes as Khalani sauntered away.

Like she was the one about to set him on fire.

People cast admiring glances at her as she passed, their lewd gazes traversing down her body. Khalani stared straight ahead, gaining more confidence with each step. She sent a silent thank you to Serene for ensuring she didn’t look like a cockroach with red lipstick plastered on.

She felt Takeshi’s presence quietly following in her wake.

Khalani found herself swaying her hips slightly more as she walked, somehow managing not to trip in her heels.

At the bar, Raziel leaned casually on the counter like he owned it. The other guests gave him a wide berth, and the bartender’s face was stiff as he set a glass of amber liquid in front of him.

“What’s your drink?” Raziel asked Khalani.

She sputtered, not knowing what to say.

“For her, nothing,” Takeshi interrupted in a deeper tone as he approached the bar. “I’ll take whatever you have that’s strong.”

“Now just hold on.” Khalani turned on him. “You don’t speak for me.”

“Funny. I just did.”

“You’re hilarious. An absolute riot. Stories should be etched in stone detailing your incredible wit and charm.”

“I know,” he replied, unfazed.

“Has anyone ever told you what your face looks like?”

“I’m not—”

“Punchable,” she cut in, emphasizing the p. “That’s what it looks like, and what will happen in two seconds if you don’t move—”

“Are you two done flirting or are you gonna order something?” Raziel interrupted, lazily sipping his drink.

Khalani and Takeshi shifted their disdainful glares to Raziel.

If flirting constituted habitually wanting to rip the other person’s head off, then sure. They were absolute pros.

“Just give me what you’re having,” she grumbled to Raziel.

“You sure? It’s strong. Most girls prefer something sweet.”

“If you can handle it, I can.”

Raziel grinned devilishly. “I’m sure you could—”

“Just get her the fucking drink,” Takeshi snapped, placing his elbows on the counter.

Khalani took a small sip from the silver glass handed to her, praying the alcohol would loosen the tension. When her face twisted and her body shivered, Raziel’s lips curled into a smile.

She didn’t understand why people willingly drank liquor—it was like coating your throat in charcoal and setting it on fire.

But for some reason, she went back for another sip. Because what good was freedom if you didn’t make questionable decisions with it?

Takeshi, on the other hand, downed the entire glass in one gulp, his expression unreadable.

It was impossible to tell whether he enjoyed the drink or despised it. But when his gaze shifted to hers, still tinged with irritation, she detected a subtle flicker of challenge.

Alright then.

She tilted her head back, held her breath, and downed the remaining contents in the glass.

“That’s more like it,” Raziel remarked with a nod of approval.

“It actually doesn’t taste that bad,” she lied in a breathless voice, fighting through the burn.

Both men gave her sidelong glances, like she was full of shit, but Khalani ignored them and walked toward one of the strange machines lined against the wall. It had a white screen with bright, bold-red letters flashing JACKPOT repeatedly.

“How do you play?” she asked.

Raziel smoothly glided over, retrieving a metallic card from his pocket. He tapped it against the screen and instantly, various symbols illuminated and danced across the glass.

“Just pull this lever here,” he explained, pointing to a red stick on the side. “The goal is to line up three of the same symbols in a row. Three jackpots will win you the grand prize.”

She bit her lip and tugged the lever back. The symbols on the screen whirled so fast, her eyes couldn’t keep up. She pulled the lever several times, but none of the symbols matched.

Khalani felt a pang of guilt each time she lost Raziel money, but he merely nodded in encouragement. “Keep going.”

Takeshi came to stand by her side, which only intensified Khalani’s desire to win. She started to grasp how easily you could become ensnared by the casino. To continue pulling the lever, gambling your inhibitions away.

Suddenly, the machine lit up on her next pull, and the sound of jingling coins filled the air as three blue diamonds appeared on the screen.

“I won?” She drew back in shock.

“You did.”

“I won!” Khalani spun with a wide smile, clasping her hands.

Takeshi gave her a smoldering grin. The alcohol warmed her stomach as she noticed the suit accentuating his dark eyes and muscular—

No. Khalani promptly turned back around.

She stared at the blue diamonds shimmering on the screen instead. The color reminded her of something. Or someone. The blue shifted, and icy eyes stared back at her.

She jolted out of her seat.

“What’s wrong?” Raziel stared at Khalani like she’d become possessed. Takeshi moved forward, searching her eyes intently.

“I…I.” Words failed her. Khalani turned back to the machine, but the Governor’s cold gaze had vanished, leaving only the blue diamonds shimmering back.

“Sorry, thought I saw… someone watching us.” She scraped a shaky hand through her hair.

Raziel looked uncertain but cast a watchful gaze around the area to be sure. “There’s no one.”

“Right, right. Silly me,” she joked, even though her vision started to blacken. “I just need another drink.”

Raziel hesitated, like that might be the last thing she needed, but he replied, “We’ll get you another one at the lounge. It’s time for us to go.”

She nodded, taking a deep breath and preparing to move on. But a muscle in Takeshi’s jaw ticked. She knew he wanted to pull her aside and demand answers, but she avoided his probing gaze.

For her own sanity, she needed to keep up the pretense that everything was fine.

They navigated another lavish hallway, where women in even more revealing dresses strutted past. When they turned the next corner, there were two large doors blocked off by red rope and three massive guards that looked like they ate humans for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.

Above the black wall, seven diamond-shaped lights sparkled and trembled as a deep bass throbbed beyond the doors. Raziel turned to them, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Welcome to the Seven Diamonds Lounge, the crown jewel of Hermes’ nightlife.”

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