Page 51 of Dark Alliance
“I don’t know if I can do this,” I admitted, lifting my gaze to meet his eyes, searching for some reassurance. “Zeno is such an asshole to me. I’m so torn, but I don’t even understand why.”
He reached out. “Let the guilt go, Daphne,” he murmured, his voice a low, vibrating command against my temple. “Zeno doesn't own your conscience anymore. I have this handled. You don’t need to do anything but stay here, stay safe, and let me be the monster for both of us.”
“What I truly wish for,” I confessed, “is to run away. If I’m honest with myself, that’s all I want right now. But I know I can’t. I’ve studied all the reports in detail. The syndicate isn’t messing around. They plan to wipe everything out.”
He nodded and said, “I know.”
“I’m determined to stop them,” I said. “We have to. We can’t let them succeed.”
“Trust me, Daphne,” he said confidently. “I will do everything possible to stop them. Yes, they have a plan, but that’s all it is. A plan. We, however, hold the advantage. We know their intentions and can act first to stop them. And we will. Together, remember?”
“Yes,” I replied. “I feel guilty for not telling Zeno everything. He’s so fixated on you, convinced you’re behind some vague intuition he’s chasing, and he’s blind to what’s right in front of him.”
“And that’s exactly why we can’t tell him,” Thal said. “Not yet.”
My heart felt heavy with the weight of all this knowledge, so much to carry alone. Yet, in the midst of it all, I knew I wasn’t truly alone. Thal’s presence was a steadying force.
“I know this is tough, but you’re not facing it alone. I’m right here with you, every step of the way.” He pulled me closer.
I melted into his warmth, letting the steady beat of his heart soothe my ears. He caressed my hair, holding me in a way I never expected someone to offer me.
He kissed my hair, a tender gesture that threatened to unravel me, as pain and anguish caused me to shudder. Thal’s arms tightened around me, and I welcomed the comfort.
“I’m grateful I have you,” I told him.
“Me too, beauty, me too.”
We remained like that for a while until Thal received a phone call from James. His words were hushed, then he left in a hurry.
In his haste, he’d left his encrypted tablet facedown on my coffee table.
My fingers hovered over the glass. Thal thought he had me tamed, tucked away in his gold-plated cage while he played the hero. He forgot who Zeno had raised. I dismantled his security system. After three minutes of hacking, I found his secrets. I wasn't looking for validation or beauty. I was the Ghost of Olympus, about to uncover what my master concealed.
I opened the last message, and the air in the room turned to ice.
“The owl collects at the gala. Midnight. The transfer is pending.”
The date was three days away. Thal had looked me in the eye tonight and told me we had time. He’d kissed me even as he knew exactly when I was scheduled to be “repossessed” like a used car. He wasn’t protecting me, more like managing me. He was going to walk into that fire alone and leave me locked in this gold-plated cage.
“Not a chance, Thal,” I whispered.
He thought he could keep me in a velvet-lined box while he settled my father’s debts? He’d forgotten who'd trained me. He’d forgotten that a ghost couldn’t be managed.
If I was the currency at the center of this gala, I would make sure the cost of my repossession was paid in corpses. Thal wanted to walk into the fire alone? He’d find me already standing in the center of it. I wasn't a prize to be collected. I was the Ghost of Olympus, and I was going to make them all bleed for thinking I was anything less than I was.
Sixteen
THE SYNDICATE STRIKES BACK
THAL
As I gazed over the crowd gathered in the opulent ballroom of my hotel, a realization dawned. Never before had so many of Las Vegas’s elite mingled under one roof.
Designer gowns shimmered as they swayed gracefully around the legs of stunning, glamorous women. Crystal flutes caught the light, their surfaces alive with the endless sparkle of golden champagne. The chandeliers cast a warm, amber glow over every skin tone, while sconces flickered with candlelight that danced in the eyes of the guests.
A feeling of wealth and privilege filled the air, almost tangible, like gold slipping from fingertips. I took a slow, deliberate breath, soaking in the intoxicating scent of French perfume and underlying pretension. A faint, knowing smile appeared on my lips as my eyes scanned the sea of familiar faces.
They all attended the charity event, a gathering planned months in advance. Politicians, casino owners, entrepreneurs,and entertainers. Each played their part in the city’s grand mosaic of ambition and influence.
