Page 154 of Nocturne

The weight of her words crushes the fragile hope I’d been clinging to. I thought I’d escaped him. I thought he believed the fire had killed me.

“I thought he believed I was dead,” I whisper, my voice hollow.

Harley’s expression shifts, a spark of amusement in her eyes. “Oh, he did. You did a commendable job with the fire, darling. The dupes, the DNA… It was convincing. He let it go for a while.”

She chuckles to herself and shakes her head. “He wasn’t fully convinced, but he let it go. He had a lot on his plate after the death of King’s brother. There was constant vigilance on everyone, especially the one who was up for the run towards the chief of counsel. Until…”

“Until?” I press, my heart pounding.

“Someone tipped him off. An anonymous message, much like the one Ivy received about the warehouse in Roarfort.”

Her admission is a knife to my chest. I can barely breathe as I stare at her, my mind reeling. She tipped him off. She put me—my family—at risk. And she doesn’t even deny it. Instead, she nods, her smirk never faltering.

“Why?” I demand, rising from the chair. My voice cracks, but I don’t care. “Why are you doing this? Is it because of Willow?”

Her smile dims slightly at her sister’s name. “Partly. And partly because you’re an important piece in the grand scheme of things.”

“I told you, I want no part of your asinine plans,” I snap. “They won’t work.”

“And I told you,” she says, her voice ice-cold, “I don’t give a shit. They will work.”

I’m trembling with anger, my fists clenched at my sides. “Then tell me, Harley. What is this grand plan of yours? How do you intend to kill a man so untouchable he might as well be a god?”

The weight of my question hangs in the air, heavy with the truth I’ve carried for so long. There’s a reason I chose to run instead of reporting Vir to the police. There’s a reason no one dared to stand against him then, and no one can now. Vir is a man fortified by wealth and powerful connections, indispensable to kings and men of influence across the globe. Over the years, his empire has only grown. The man who performs rituals is merely one face of many, and each face is more untouchable than the last.

“You’re exaggerating. He isn’t all that powerful.” Harley rolls her eyes, dismissing my words.

“You wouldn’t have sought me out, gone to the lengths of befriending me, tipping him off, and whatever else you’ve done if he wasn’t.”

My voice is steady, reasoned. I’ve tucked the emotional wreckage deep into the recesses of my mind. I can fall apart later, but not now—not when I’m staring into the chaos Harley has dragged me into.

“She has a point,” Vince says, his voice quiet but firm.

Harley’s frown deepens, and it feels strangely satisfying to see someone else puncture her arrogance, even momentarily.

“Fine,” she concedes, “he’s something, alright. Killing him is not the end goal here—well, it is. But we need to end that fucking cult first. Then we kill him. In the same ritual grounds where he killed my sister.”

“Brilliant,” I say, crossing my arms. “And how do we do that?”

“We force his hand to start a war.”

“War with whom?”

“Why, the devil, of course.” She smirks, her words laced with venom.

It takes a moment for her meaning to register, and when it does, my blood runs cold.

“Why is he involved?” My voice is barely above a whisper, but the dread in it is unmistakable.

“Oh, darling, he is the main fucking picture.”

“You’re making no sense.”

“There’s a reason I orchestrated your paths crossing,” Harley begins, her words striking like a blade. “There’s a reason I tipped Ivy off about that warehouse in Roarfort.”

Her voice is deliberate, almost taunting, as she peels back the layers of her scheme. Each word sinks deeper, unravelling the fragile threads of understanding I’ve clung to.

“I won’t bore you with the details, but Devlin and Vir’s paths will cross eventually. The reason being you.”

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