Page 78 of No Charm Done

“Same,” added a woman at the table. “We’ll double our position. No sense waiting for the next round at a higher price.”

Another voice from the giant screen: “Put us down for another two million. Send the paperwork.”

Elias recognized the shift: the telltale dilation of pupils, the relaxed shoulders, the sudden certainty that yes was the only possible answer. The usual investor hesitation would no longer be a problem; everyone, even Burke, was under the spell of the token.

The new vibe spread like fire through dry grass, one fund manager texting “we’re in,” another blurting “double us,” a third already forwarding wiring instructions to an assistant. The Zoom chat lit up—SOFT-CIRCLE CONFIRMED, SENDING DOCUSIGN, PRIORITY ALLOC NEEDED—until the whole screen was a strobing ticker of greed.

Burke’s expression flickered, like he’d heard an old song he couldn’t quite place. “Remarkable enthusiasm,” he murmured, and drew his phone from his pocket. “Burke Capital increases its allocation by ten million. Legal, please circulate the A-1 extension documents.” His tone was smooth, civilized. The rest of the room was anything but.

“We can hold your allocation for today only.” Luna’s voice was a calm island in the growing storm. She confidently recited every bit of industry lingo that Scarlett had taught her. “Post-money SAFE, ten percent discount, MFN and pro-rata rights. Soft-circle by 5 p.m. today and you keep priority in the extension.” The words themselves were ordinary; everyone in the room had heard them a thousand times. But the way they landed wasn’t ordinary. The air felt charged, humming. Chairs scraped back. Phones came out. People started calling partners. Whispering, nodding, and—perhaps importantly—signing without reading.

“Commit today and you lead the round,” she urged. “Wait, and you’re buying your own FOMO. Of course.” She shrugged eloquently. “There’s always the next unicorn, right?”

The energy was frantic now, desperate, the fear of missing out overriding every rational thought.

Burke was staring at him. No. Not at him, at Kyle Gordon. But he was somehow looking through Kyle, searching for something underneath. “Mr. Gordon,” the old man said, his voice pitched for Elias alone. “Your eloquence borders on sorcery.”

Elias forced a grin. “Just a little razzle-dazzle, sir.”

“Mmm.” Burke stood, buttoning his jacket. He was watching Luna now, and Elias saw something flicker in the old man’s expression. Recognition? Suspicion? “The world of true magic is a very small one. So few of us, really. We tend to . . . sense each other.”

Elias kept his expression pleasant, professional, utterly devoid of the panic clawing at his throat. “I’m afraid I don’t follow, sir.”

“Don’t you?” Burke picked up his briefcase to depart. “In that case, forgive an old man’s ramblings.”

At the sight of Burke headed out the door, Elias allowed himself a beat to relax. The disguise had held; he hadn’t been recognized. Clever old Elias Shaw had gotten away with it, yet again.

But at the threshold, Burke paused and turned back. “One more thing, Mr. . . . Gordon. That trick with the triangle? Fear, desire, and access? I used a similar approach in Egypt. Convinced a young man to acquire something very valuable for me. Worked beautifully.” His eyes glinted. “Until it didn’t.”

Then he was gone. The conference room erupted back into noise—investors arguing over allocation sizes, someone’s phone ringing with the unmistakable urgency of a wire transfer approval. But Elias couldn’t hear any of it over the roaring in his ears.

He knows.

Not everything. Not yet. But enough to be suspicious. Enough to start poking around.

Luna’s phone buzzed insistently in her pocket—once, twice, three times in rapid succession. The specific pattern made her freeze. Emergency signal. She pulled it out: Kelly. Then Scarlett. Then Kelly again.

She looked at Elias, then at the satchel in her hands. The room was still chaos—investors arguing over allocation sizes, someone’s assistant trying to get wire instructions, the energy of successful manipulation thrumming through the air like electricity.

“Hold this,” she said, pressing the leather satchel into Elias’s hands. “Don’t move. I need to take this.” She moved to the far corner of the conference room, phone pressed to her ear, one finger in her other ear to block out the noise.

Elias looked down at the satchel. Heavy. Warm. Dangerous. Through the leather he could feel the thrum of power.

Three tokens. Three chances to bend reality. But this first meeting had gone so well . . . surely they wouldn’t need all three. Right?

Elias’s hand moved before his brain could stop him. Quick, practiced, guided by the muscle memory of a hundred cons. As he slid open the flap of the satchel, a sudden cheer erupted from the investors when someone announced a new commitment of funds. The noise was sharp, like a trap closing, and in that instant, Elias slipped a token into his jacket pocket, the inner one with the button, where it settled against his ribs like a guilty secret.

For Frankie.

Across the room, Luna was talking urgently into her phone, her back to him, tension in every line of her body. Whatever Kelly was saying, it didn’t look good. She turned back toward him, pocketing her phone. As she approached, the weight of what he’d just done settled over Elias like a blanket of lead.

“Mama’s been in touch with Louise about that mysterious investor friend.” She reached for the satchel and he returned it, innocent as a newborn. “Apparently things are getting a little weird. She wants us back, ASAP.”

“Sure,” Elias managed. “Seems like we’re done here.” But the token in his pocket felt like it was burning through his jacket, branding him.

The two consultants made their excuses to the crowd. Luna said something about another meeting, client commitments, the usual gibberish. Together, they headed for the elevator. No one paid any mind. They were all too busy celebrating the discovery of the next unicorn.

Once the elevator doors closed, Luna sagged against the wall, the glamour rippling like water disturbed by a stone. For a second, Elias saw both faces: Lexi and Luna, overlapping, neither quite solid.