King Of Fools. Amanda Foody
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from the omerta built around his neck, forcing the air out.
“I’m rebuilding the Irons,” he rasped. It wasn’t the full truth, but it was a truth, and that was enough for the omerta.
“The what?” Vianca asked coolly.
He ground his teeth. He hadn’t seen her investment scheme through and escaped the Shadow Game to remain her plaything. He hadn’t made a reckless bargain with her son only to see it collapse that very same day. She was ripping away his ambitions one by one. She was humiliating him in front of his best friend. After all, she knew all the ways to make him hurt.
But he knew her weaknesses, too.
Even if he couldn’t resist her orders, if he was truly a moment away from the omerta killing him, Vianca would relent. The donna wasn’t interested in seeing him dead. She wanted to see him tormented.
So Levi mustered up his willpower and declared, “I won’t.”
The grip around his throat tightened, and tears sprang from his eyes. Across the room, Jac stood up, as though he’d charge Vianca. But even Jac would know that a small army of Vianca’s henchmen undoubtedly waited outside Zula’s door, should Vianca fail to return. “You’re making a mistake,” Levi sputtered.
“The matter is decided,” she said firmly.
“Would you care to place a wager?” he asked with the little breath he had left.
Vianca eyed him coolly for several moments. He strained his neck, gasping for air. Even as black spots darkened around his vision, even as doubt and fear crept into his mind, he refused to lift a hand to his throat.
“You’re killing him,” Jac croaked. He lunged for one of the bags and pulled out his pistol. He pointed it at her head, his chest heaving.
“If you don’t lower the gun,” Vianca snapped, “I will.”
Levi sputtered and waved his arm, trying to call Jac off.
She wouldn’t let him die.
She wouldn’t let him die.
She wouldn’t let him die.
Jac grimaced and laid the gun on the bed. Suddenly, the grip on Levi’s neck slackened, and he gulped in air.
“What sort of wager?” Vianca asked impatiently.
Levi grimaced and wiped the spit off his chin with his shirt. “You think Enne should be the lord over me. I’m telling you we both can—and with greater success.”
She laughed. “And what do you have to bet? Your dignity?”
“You know I want this,” he said. “You know I won’t stop trying. Enne, a lord? Instead of me?” He forced a laugh. “I was the one who killed the Chancellor. I’m the one who knows this city. I’m the one who already has the connections, the resources, the associates.”
Jac paled at Levi’s words, and even Levi could agree the Irons wasn’t worth dying for.
But his freedom was.
“Give me two months,” Levi told Vianca, “and I will prove to you that the Irons are worth keeping. That you won’t even need Enne to do this.”
“How selfless of you,” Vianca purred. “But though it might be difficult to imagine, Enne possesses certain skills that you lack. Why should I let you waste your time on a pointless wager when you could be helping her?”
He didn’t mean to deny Enne aid; he would still gladly assist her—whatever she needed. But, he quickly decided, under no circumstances could he tell Enne about his deal with Harrison. Even if Vianca’s death would free her, too, telling her would give Vianca another opportunity to discover the truth. This risk was his and his alone to take.
“Three thousand volts,” Levi said. “That’s what the city placed on my head, what they think my gang and my reputation are worth. It might be less than hers, but it’s the same as Scavenger, the same as Ivory. And as far as I can tell, six and a half thousand combined is a far better value than what Enne could offer alone.”
Vianca licked her lips. “I’ll give you six weeks.”
“Six weeks,” he echoed, his voice high-pitched with relief.
Levi knew this plan wasn’t foolproof. Even if he did manage to rebuild the Irons in so little time, once the wager was over, the gang would only become another tool at Vianca’s disposal. So when the time came, he’d find another loophole, another desperate solution. He’d wager everything, over and over again, if that was what it took.
“If you fail, then you will abandon the Irons and your fantasies about them forever. Including that one.” She nodded at Jac.
Levi inhaled sharply. He had bet his dreams, his freedom on this wager, but now his best friend was at stake. Levi tried to imagine a future where he never saw Jac again. There was so little that the donna could take from him that would still hurt, but sure enough, she had found the only remaining good in his life and seized it.
No, not Jac. Not for this. The risk was too great.
But hadn’t he risked worse for Jac already with Harrison?
“Don’t look so frazzled, Levi,” she said, turning to go up the stairs. “I’m the one who should be disappointed. I was looking forward to a partnership between you and Miss Salta. I thought you would have, as well. Unless you think now you’ll get both things you want. The gang...and the girl.”
Levi didn’t give Vianca the satisfaction of seeing him grimace. If Vianca could dangle his friendship with Jac as bait, he hated to think what she could do with him and Enne. No wonder she was so keen to play matchmaker. Jac must have agreed with him, because his aura was prickly with warning.
“It’s not like that between us,” Levi said quickly.
Vianca shot him back an icy smile. “I suppose we’ll see, won’t we?” And then she climbed up to the top floor and shut the trapdoor behind her.
Levi and Jac didn’t speak until the sound of her footsteps disappeared. Levi sat down on the cot, heart pounding. He didn’t know if he’d managed to save or damn himself. It felt like he’d done both at the same time.
Levi took a deep breath, ready to come clean to Jac on all of the events of this morning, every detail of his deal with Harrison. But then Jac stood up, seething.
“Is that what I’m worth to you?” he demanded. “Muck, Levi. I’m not just another thing for you to gamble away.”
He made toward the stairs, and Levi shot up after him.
“Jac, wait! I had a reason for this. A good reason—”
“Yeah, I bet you did.” Jac threw open the trapdoor.
Levi winced as he raced to follow him. His broken ribs made it agonizing to move, let alone run. “Where are you going?” he called. Jac couldn’t go home—not with a bounty on his head.
“Like you care,” Jac snapped.
Before he made it to the door, Zula let out a shrill shriek. “You—boy—don’t you dare go outside. Both of you, be quiet.”
They whipped toward her. Zula was seated at her desk, a beaded shawl wrapped around her shoulders and a mug of tea in her hand. She hunched over the radio and turned up the volume.
“The most recent reports are confirming eight casualties,” the newscaster spoke. “Several of the injured have been rushed to New Reynes North General Hospital. Although Captain Hector declined to comment, we were able to get in touch with Sergeant Roy Pritchard, who personally participated in the operation. Sergeant, what information can you give us about tonight’s events?”
“After the tragic assassination of Chancellor Semper, the precincts across the city have been working around the clock