Page 49 of Queen of Madness

I don’t get to respond, because somewhere between our bubbled conversation, the limo has pulled into our destination, and Trigger opens the door.

Onyx spares me a quick glance before taking Trigger’s outstretched hand. “Shall we?”

When we exit the limo, I take in the back of what appears to be a plain six-story office building. It’s smaller than I’d imagined and sandwiched between two much higher ones. We’ve parked in the alley, which is quiet and clean of any common debris or trash. Hell, besides the lone brown cat lurking near the end, we seem to be the only living beings in the area.

“That cat loves you, ma’am. It’s like it can sense when you’re coming.” A guard closes a window slat before opening the door. He’s in a suit similar to the man I saw outside of the Rabbit Hole where I met Maddy. “Haven’t seen her in weeks, and then bam, you show up and she’s back.”

Onyx peers at the animal for a moment before turning to the guard. “How’s your wife, Andrew?”

The man smiles, the cat forgotten as he opens the door wide. “Round and heavy. Due any day now. We really appreciate that truckful of nursery stuff you sent over. She cried for about a week straight.”

“It’s nothing.” Onyx waves him off as we pass by, walking the long corridor until we reach an elevator.

Inside, Trigger taps the button B2 before wrapping a large arm around Shi’s shoulders. She moves into him naturally, letting her eyes flutter closed for a moment before the ding of doors opening steals her attention.

Now, this is what I expected.

Bloodred carpets line the floors, while chandeliers and dim lighting illuminate the ceiling. The scene is almost picturesque of Heaven and Hell, while in the middle, purgatory rests. Rows of tables fill the vast space—poker, blackjack, roulette, and craps, to name a few.

Like the guard outside, the dealers and waitresses all wear the same attire, complete with a red heart on their sleeve. And every worker is busy, tending to the full house of patrons.

We walk through the space toward the back, past a window of women dealing out chips and to a black door where Onyx enters a code. Inside the small room, an older gentleman who was sitting behind a desk stands and nods toward us before crouching down. The few telltale signs of a safe lock whirling and thick clunk of a lock gives way to what he’s doing.

“Our numbers are higher this week.”

“Percentage?” Onyx asks as she studies one of the dozens of security’s surveillance cameras mounted on the wall.

“Six.”

“How?” Shi’s brows furrow as she looks over an open book on the desk. Her eyes scan almost abnormally fast until she smirks. “The savings are in liquor.”

The gentleman stands, stacks of money in hand. “We’ve had an increase in underage guests after a social media influencer hit one of our small jackpots.”

“Spending money and filling seats, but can’t purchase booze. Sounds good.” Trigger huffs, filling his small duffel bag with the money.

“Until they run out of money they don’t have,” I say, moving to stand next to Onyx, who is staring intently at one particular screen.

“What do you mean?” Trigger asks.

“This means we are theitthing right now. If they are taking their parents’ money, it’s only a matter of time until one loses an amount too big and the wrong people come sniffing around.” Onyx nods to Shi, who writes something down in the book. “Raise the age to thirty for the next three weeks. Run some specials to make our regulars happy. Kane, let me ask you something.”

My eyes follow hers to a blackjack table. It’s full of men of various ages, all of which have large piles of chips pushed in front of them. Before she utters a word, I point to a younger guy wearing a red hat. “Him.”

Onyx smirks and turns just enough that I see both her eyes twinkling in amusement. “Very good eye, Kane.”

She snaps her fingers as she twists for the doorknob. “Table one hundred six. A counter in the red hat. Come, Kane. Let’s have some fun, shall we?”

Aceiling with no texture is easy to stare at.

It allows me to listen to the late-night sounds of the house while not getting distracted with making shapes in my mind.

I’ve memorized the estate’s noises. Every alarm, every midnight snack trip and toilet flush. I know the pipes groan when used past two in the morning, and the tapping of Cat’s hookah when she cleans it out before walking downstairs to get Antonio’s food.

All of it. Every minuscule sound.

It’s how I can both ensure no one is headed to Onyx’s room at convoluted times, while also getting the drop on anyone who might come to mine. Not that I think anyone is suspicious anymore. Can’t ever be too cautious, though.

Satisfied everything is normal, I return to the book I set aside earlier. Though it was so long ago, it seems more of a dream rather than a memory, I’d loved reading. Every Friday after school, I’d bribe Fi to stop at the library on our way home so I could carry as many mystery andGoosebumpsbooks as possible.

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