Page 155 of Nocturne

“Me? Why?” I spit the word, incredulous.

“Coming to your classes, stalking you, killing people for you—” Harley giggles, the sound sharp and jagged, like shards of glass scraping together.

My breath hitches at her last words. “What?”

“We’ll get to that later,” she says, waving it off. “My point is, we’re going to use Devlin against Vir.”

“And what makes you think he’d do that?” I demand.

“Vir is the threat,” she says simply.

I shake my head. “Wrong. I am. Eliminating me is easier and comes with far fewer losses than going to war with Vir.”

“True,” Harley admits. “But he won’t.”

Her confidence is maddening, and I can’t help but press. “What makes you so sure?”

Harley chuckles, a low, sinister sound. “Villains like us don’t love, darling. We obsess. And anything that dares touch our obsession? We bury it.”

Her words hang in the air, cutting through my resolve. I shake my head, refusing to dwell on what she’s implying.

“You’re wrong,” I say, my voice steady.

“Let’s put it to the test, shall we?” she says, her tone mocking.

Before I can react, Vince rises. He looks at Harley, his expression torn between exasperation and reluctant compliance.

“You’re going to get us killed,” he mutters.

“How else do you know you’re alive?” Harley quips, turning back to me with a glint in her eye.

Vince snaps a picture of the bound men and unconscious Yuri, typing something into his phone as he walks towards the back door. He halts as he is about to step out and looks at her.

“You’re absolutely fucking sure?” He checks.

“Oh yes,” Harley cackles. “Devlin does have interesting reactions whenever Dr Sinclair is included.” She winks, and Vince walks out.

She’s set something in motion, something irreversible. My chest tightens as I realise I’ve been manoeuvred into a game where the stakes are far higher than my life.

“By the way,” Harley adds nonchalantly, “Vir’s sent teams of men all over the world looking for you. Different groups—he’s thorough like that. I didn’t tell him exactly where you are.”

The words strike like a thunderclap. “And these men—have any of them reported back to him?”

“Not yet,” Harley replies. “They can’t. Vir only gets reports when he initiates contact, not the other way around. It’s his rule. But if any group finds you, their orders are simple: deliver you to him, no questions asked.”

I grit my teeth, fury boiling beneath the surface.

“So killing these five men here will light a beacon straight to Walius. It doesn’t exactly work in your favour, does it?”

For the first time, Harley falters. Her brow furrows, a flicker of surprise breaking through her mask of arrogance. It’s a tiny crack, but enough to make me wonder how someone who has orchestrated so much could miss something so obvious.

“You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?” I say bitterly.

Harley’s expression hardens. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it. I’ll send someone to eliminate the other groups, too. Conveniently, the ones who are all in hazardous locations—places where disappearing isn’t exactly a shock.”

The casual brutality of her words leaves me cold. This is the woman I’ve been forced to ally myself with—a woman who sees lives as pawns to be sacrificed at will. My anger simmers, but I hold my tongue, knowing I can’t afford to antagonise her now.

Harley steps closer, her voice soft but laced with iron. “You’re helping me kill him, Ara. Like it or not. Question my methods all you want, but we both want him dead. And whether you agree willingly or not, you’ll play your part.”

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