Page 55 of Nocturne

“What were the deals your uncle was involved in that might come back to bite his ass, Morvain?” I look at Axel.

Despite his wanting to rage, Axel grits his teeth. Even his crazy head understands that my question is a valid one.

“Nothing that would gain the attention of a fucking assassin,” he grits out.

“It’s best to look into it all the same,” I say. “Before any of us incurs more losses.”

Axel gives a tight nod. Just then, I hear the faint buzz behind me—a message that puts Iblis on edge, his entire posture going rigid.

“What is it?” I snap.

“Victor suspects they might be in Besall.”

His words hit me like a blow, though I keep my expression impassive.

“They’re in my territory?”

Iblis nods, his voice steady.

“One of our men found a shipment—advanced weapons, Cruxis-made.”

I hear collective curses behind me from the screen while I rein in the rampant beast that wants to paint the streets red with the blood of assholes who snuck into my territory. With an intent of carnage and upheaval in my city. Locking this cargo would do shit because they wouldn’t be stupid enough not to carry enough. If I’m not wrong, this must be only one of the many they have procured.

“I’ll send over my men,”

I turn to pin Charon with a withering glare. One that makes even grown men run with their tails tucked between their legs. Charon does stop whatever the fuck he thought to do, looks at the screen and clears his throat under my glare.

“I can look after my own, Vessar,” I growl.

“Of course.” Charon nods.

I don’t care if Vessar’s family is the one who forged the alliance and he thinks he is some sort of prince here. It is a hit on my pride that they would think I cannot find two measly fucking assassins. Even if they happen to be the best of the best. If they’re here, they’ll die here.

“I’ll get back to you after looking through Lev’s deals,” Axel says.

I nod.

“If that is all,”

Amon is the first to leave, followed by the other two. As the screen goes blank, Iblis sinks into the chair opposite me, his face pulled tight with wariness. He knows as well as I do that tracking down these assassins isn’t going to be simple.

This isn’t just another mess that we can clean up with brute force. No, these bastards will be crafty—the kind who could crawl into your city, hiding in the shadows, and no one would be any the wiser. They blend in, pretending to be your friendly neighbour, flirty stranger or even fucking pope, and no one would know. And with elections coming up, Berrett will lose his shit. One wrong move, and it’ll be all over the damn city.

I pace toward the glass wall overlooking the casino floor, my fists clenching as I stare down at the pulse of my territory. Knowing someone has breached my city is one thing, but the idea of them squatting here, plotting in the dark, brings an itch to my skin that I can't scratch.

It hasn’t been long since I took the throne, and every idiot in this country who’s stupid enough to think they have a shot at it is watching, waiting for a chance to strike. Squashing the competition isn’t hard—it’s the constant drain of manpower, and resources, the tiresome grind that I want to avoid.

I glance down, and my irritation heightens, twisting into something darker.

Ara’s down there in front of the roulette wheel, holding my coat with a slight, wicked smile on her face as she sits beside Eero. Nico’s there, too, leaning over her with the kind of rare interest he usually reserves for silent threats.

She leans close to Eero, whispering something in his ear that makes him grin. They place their bets, and Ara pushes all hischips onto three slots. Eero’s eyes nearly pop as he watches her gamble his entire stack.

“Eero’s going to hate her if he loses. He’s a sore loser.” Iblis chuckles.

The handler moves quickly, closing the bets before Eero can pull back his chips. I see Eero glare at the handler, but Ara swats his hand away and frowns. They’re close—too close—and I can feel the irrational possessive anger burning low in my chest.

She’s wearing those damn glasses, pushing them up as she watches the wheel spin, her gaze intent. I know if she were in her right mind, she’d never even step foot in this casino. But tonight, she’s here. And she’s winning. I can almost hear the triumphant roar as the ball clatters to a halt on one of her chosen numbers.

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