The casino shimmered like a jewel that Friday night, alive with laughter, lights, and scandalous whispers. The chandeliers overhead scattered golden light onto red velvet walls, and the air smelled of perfume, cigar smoke, and temptation.
Angel descended the stairs like a goddess of ruin—dressed to kill. Her fitted silk dress clung to her curves, glistening under the light, her heels clicking like punctuation to her power. Her makeup was flawless, hair swept to one side, cascading down in soft waves. She looked every bit like a woman on the hunt, ready to catch a man… or destroy one.
Since Logan didn't show up tonight—probably because of the plan—they agreed Angel would take charge.
She turned to Harper, her expression unreadable, and pressed a small container into her hand.
"Here!" she said sharply.
Harper blinked at it. "What's this for?"
"For Quincy, sure! Go to the bar and order some expensive drinks for me."
Harper swallowed hard, nodding. "Alright."
Angel narrowed her eyes, voice low and lethal. "Do not mess up if you don't want me to kill you myself!"
She turned on her heel without waiting for a reply, striding toward her reserved table like a queen in her court. Celine followed behind her like a loyal shadow. A waiter promptly arrived, setting a drink on the table, but Angel barely acknowledged it. Her attention was locked—like a loaded gun—on Quincy across the casino floor.
Quincy was seated at the casino table, aloof and brooding. He didn't look like he was in a good mood tonight. After a game round, he stood up and shifted to the VIP lounge, his guards flanking him closely. They waved off every courtesan who tried to approach. He was alone now—sharp, dangerous, unreachable.
Harper lingered behind the bar, watching it all unfold. She sighed deeply.
"I hate being used as a pawn in a game, Angel," she muttered under her breath. "If anything goes wrong with Quincy, I'll be the one taking the blame and not the other way round. Even if it's a poison that can't be detected easily… I'm still the one serving it. What stupid person serves poison to the Dylan son?"
"Harper, here is your order!" the barman called, snapping her from her thoughts.
"Oh! Thank you!" she said quickly, lifting the tray. Her fingers trembled slightly as she carried it.
She'd already laced one champagne glass with the contents of the tiny container.
As she neared Quincy's table, the guards instantly stepped in her path.
"Why are you here?" one asked, firm and cold.
"I was told to deliver this drink to Quincy," Harper said evenly.
"He doesn't want any disturbance. So take it back."
"No."
"I said go back!"
"I said no," Harper repeated firmly, her voice slicing through the air.
The tension caused a ripple. Quincy turned, eyebrows rising in surprise when he saw her.
"I'm sure Quincy wouldn't want me to go back!" she said, locking eyes with him.
Quincy studied her for a second, face unreadable.
"Let him in," he told the guards calmly.
They stepped aside.
Harper moved slowly to the table, tray balanced in her hands, careful not to reveal the storm raging inside her. Quincy stood slightly, as if to come closer, but she gave him a small shake of her head. He sat back down, lips pursed.
She placed the tray on the table with a soft clink and began setting the glasses.
"Why are you here?" he whispered.
Her eyes met his, full of hurt and fire.
"That's the question you should be asking after leaving me out there to die."
"Harper…" his voice broke slightly.
"Thanks for a lot of lies fed to me too!"
"I can explain—"
"I don't need your explanations, Quincy! You are such a liar."
"You were part of Ross's men."
"I betrayed my whole clan for you and ended up being sold off because of your damn ass!"
His breath caught. "You were sold here?"
"Definitely."
Quincy leaned back, shaken. "No wonder I couldn't find you at the field."
"Stop pretending as if you care!" she snapped. "Angel sent these drinks to you."
He reached out, touching her hand gently. Her skin flinched under his fingers. He glanced back toward Angel—seated elegantly, her red lips curled in a venomous smile. She raised her champagne glass in mock salute.
"You work for Angel now? Did Ross take you to him?"
"If she even knew who I was and how I saved you, I wouldn't be here serving you champagne."
Quincy's jaw tightened. "She's with Logan. She wouldn't send me drinks out of courtesy."
"Of course she wouldn't!" Harper hissed. "She sent this here to get you killed!"
She slid the laced glass toward him.
"Drink it."
He looked at it… then at her.
"Why would I?"
"Because it's poisoned, and I have to do my job—or else I'll get killed instead!"
For a moment, silence. Then—Quincy laughed. A low, bitter, knowing sound.
"Do you think killing me will make you stay safe?"
"I'm not safe either way—whether I kill you or not!"
"Harper…"
"I'm trying to choose the most powerful side because I'm tired of being messed with! So this is the last chance I'm giving you, Quincy—if I'm gonna die or stay alive, if I'm gonna be humiliated and used by powerful people—it all depends on you!"
Quincy smirked. He scanned her slowly from head to toe.
"We are now enemies, Harper."
"It is totally needed!" she said, her voice cracking with emotion.
Without breaking eye contact, Quincy picked up the champagne glass—and downed it in one long gulp. He poured himself another and drank it too. Harper gave a small, bitter smile.
"You are gambling on passion, Harper."
"I wonder if I'm gonna win," she whispered, then turned and walked away, heels tapping sharply against the floor.
She made her way to the bar, dropped a glass into the waste bin discreetly, and strode out of the casino like a woman walking out of her own funeral.
From the VIP table, Quincy watched her disappear, a crooked smile tugging at his lips.
He leaned back.
"He is a tough one!" he said, still looking toward the doors.
"Hey!"
"Yes, boss?" one of his guards replied quickly.
"Watch that boy for me. And report everything to me."
The guard hesitated. "We are not allowed to monitor people in the courtesan house. You need to get a courtesan to do that, sir."
Quincy's gaze turned ice-cold.
"When I say that you should do something—you should do it. Fuck the courtesan house rules."
The guard straightened instantly. "Yes, boss!"
The silk robe fell slightly off her shoulder as she slammed the table. Her fingers trembled with fury as the voice on the other end of the phone screamed.
"That damn escort of yours! He did nothing! He is too timid he definitely didn't give the poison to Quincy I'm sure!" Logan's voice crackled with rage.
"Calm down Logan!" she said, trying to keep her cool.
"Don't fucking tell me to calm down!" he roared. "He will implicate us — just get rid of him already!"
Her jaw tightened. Her voice dropped, cold and dangerous. "I'm gonna do something else. Don't worry about it. He will regret betraying me."
The call ended.
She stood abruptly and slammed her palm on the table. A wine glass toppled and shattered. Her voice rang out like a gunshot.
"Harper!"
She seethed, teeth clenched. "I'm so gonna deal with you, Harper."
The lounge shimmered with golden lights. Laughter floated lazily above the music. Courtesans lounged like cats, draped in silk, their perfumes hanging in the air.
Harper approached the bar, fingers wrapped around a glass, when a tall figure blocked her path.
"Long time no see Harper!"
She looked up. Tensed
It was Olivia's bodyguard, tall and smug, a shadow behind the dazzling figure of Olivia, who was leaning affectionately against a wealthy minister's shoulder.
"Hello Olivia. How was your trip?"
"It was fine!" Olivia beamed and leaned her head on the minister, smug and leering.
Harper's thoughts prickled with bitterness. She's got him wrapped around her fingers. Since I moved to the courtesan house, he's always been subscribing for her.
"Who is the pretty boy?" the minister asked, eyeing Harper.
"Oh, he is the boy I told you that I like."
"He looks beautiful. Just like a girl."
Harper's heart skipped a beat. Her breath hitched. She glanced away, forcing a tight smile.
"Yes, he does! He is just too proud. He wouldn't even let me sleep with him for once. He favored that damn Daisy and the escorts more than I."
"Who is Daisy?"
"She was a formal noble. She served your senator friend for quite a long but now she's trying to cling to Quincy."
"The Dylan son? Her aims are so high."
"Yes it is!"
Harper stayed silent, eyes slightly narrowed. Watching. Listening.
"I understand how you feel, Olivia. If she were a girl I would like to have her too." The minister grins with amusement, his eyes lingered on Harper. Uncomfortably so
Harper's heart thudded. She looked away, suddenly cold with unease.
"Olivia!" someone called from afar, striding in briskly. "You are disturbing Harper again, ain't you? I told you to leave him alone."
"What if I don't?"
"You have to deal with me then!"
"What to do? The minister likes him as well. How about we all run him together?"
"That will be fun!" the minister said, and laughter erupted between them.
Harper forced a nervous smile, but inside, her stomach twisted.
"Y'all are really smitten by Harper, ain't you?" a voice came from behind.
The room turned. Angel had entered, walking like thunder wrapped in silk.
"Angel is really one selfish bitch," someone muttered. "Tryna own Harper to herself."
Her eyes snapped toward the speaker her gaze sharpened like knives. "I'm selfish? Huh?"
"Fuck off!" Violet snapped.
That was it. Angel's eyes went bloodshot with rage. Her voice thundered through the room:
"You all are tryna get Harper into your bed and she's just a pretentious bitch!"
"What do you mean by that?" Daisy asked. Harper looked away quickly.
Angel's glare turned sharp. She stepped forward and slapped Daisy hard across the face. Her head jerked sideways.
"You!" she barked at her guard.
"Yes ma'am."
"Strip Harper."
"Angel!" Harper said, startled, furious
"I said strip her!"
"Her?" Olivia blinked in confusion.
The guard stepped forward. Harper shoved him away and bolted—her breath quickening. But just as she neared the door, more guards barged in, guns pointed square at her chest. She stopped. Breathing hard. Chest rising and falling in panic She could take them down, but not with the barrels aimed right at her face.
"Angel, stop doing this to Harper!"
"I wonder if you will like her if you know the kind of person she is! Hold her!"
They seized her wrists. She struggled, teeth clenched, veins visible under her skin.
The guards seized Harper's arms. She struggled, but they overpowered her. Angel walked up to her with venom in her eyes and a victorious smirk. She reached forward and began to undo Harper's shirt buttons one by one.
The room watched in stunned silence. Murmurs. Sharp breaths.
She pulled the shirt open — revealing tightly wrapped bandages across Harper's chest.
"She used a bandage to wrap her chest tightly so y'all wouldn't know that she was a girl!"
"Harper is a girl?" Daisy gasped, staggering.
"Of course she is! You have been liking a girl since all this while."
"How dare you lie to the courtesan house, Harper!"
"She was sold to the courtesan house and doesn't wanna become a courtesan. Do you think you are better than us, Harper?"
"Angel, what the hell are you doing?" Harper's voice broke with fury.
"Do you know the consequences of lying to the courtesan house?"
Her voice strong despite trembling "I didn't lie! I can be whatever I choose to be."
"By deceiving everyone? You deceived the whole courtesan and pretended to be a boy so you can have all the benefits, right?"
"I did not do that at all."
"What the hell is going on here!!!!"
The entire room turned.
A shadow stood at the entrance. Tension froze the air.