Chapter 29: Casino Plan Altered

I kept my head down, quietly sipping my broth while the domestic warmth enveloped the kitchen.

"Well, whatever Grandma sent, we’re not taking it for granted," Jayden said, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied groan, resting a hand over his full stomach. "I’m going to work double shifts at the casino this week. If that mystery kid can rake in forty grand, maybe the high-rollers will be feeling generous with their tips."

I almost choked a second time, but managed to suppress the reaction into a smooth, deliberate swallow.

Double shifts, huh?

That tightened my window significantly. If Jayden was planning to clock in early tomorrow, I couldn’t afford to waste a single minute lingering in bed.

Dawn would be my only shot to hit Edgar’s high-stakes floor, collect another massive stack of credits, and clear out before my well-meaning brother walked through the front doors. But who would even be betting at that time? Unless Edgar himself, but I doubt he had a reason to clock in that early.

Do I just do my best to avoid him this time? Dammit, it won’t work now that he’s set his sight on the high stakes floor. He’ll be hovering like a vulture. My plan is ruined.

"Don’t overwork yourself, Jayden," Valerie murmured softly, gathering the empty plates from the table. "We have enough for now. Just focus on staying safe."

"I will, Mom," Jayden promised, though the stubborn glint in his eyes said otherwise.

I finished the last of my soup, set the bowl down, and stood up from the table. The subtle energy from the tonics was fully integrated into my system now, leaving my body light, responsive, and completely free of fatigue.

"I’m going to turn in early," I announced, offering them a small, tired nod.

"Get some good rest, Brianna," Bradford said warmly, his swollen jaw looking vastly improved thanks to the silver grass. "You’ve done more than enough for us today."

"Goodnight, sweetie," Valerie added, smiling as she carried the stack of empty bowls to the sink.

I gave a quiet hum of agreement and turned toward the narrow staircase. The moment my foot hit the first step and my back was turned, the soft, dutiful daughter routine evaporated, leaving behind a cold, calculating void.

I pushed open the door to my small room and slipped inside.

I sat cross-legged on the edge of the creaky mattress, running the new variable through my head over and over again.

Jayden was a worker eager for generous tips. He would be hovering near the high-stakes tables like a vulture, hawking every high-roller’s glass the moment it ran dry. The floor was small enough that dodging him while actively pulling off high card counting would be a nightmare.

One slip of my cap, one familiar line of my profile in his peripheral vision, and the whole illusion would shatter.

Dammit.

My easy cash cow was officially plugged. Going back to Edgar’s floor right now was too high-risk for a meager reward, especially when I already had forty thousand credits sitting right under my pillow.

But what if I just told him upfront? Surely, he wouldn’t mind if I was able to win, right? But then I thought back to all his behavior. No way. There was no way that overprotective guy would allow it. Even if I was guaranteed to win, the thought of me being anywhere near that casino was enough to make him lose his mind.

It’s so exhausting.

I reached beneath the thin mattress, pulling out the pouch from earlier. I tipped it sideways, letting the contents spill over the threadbare blanket: crisp, high-denomination credit slips, the requisition token for recovery serums, the private training pass, and Edgar’s gold-embossed black contact card.

My fingers brushed over the cool, sharp edge of the card.

Contact me whenever you need something—but nothing basic, or I might actually start rethinking this little deal of ours.

A slow, thin smirk spread across my lips in the dark room.

He said nothing basic, but if I tell him his little investment was about to lose her life to hunger, he’ll do something about it, won’t he? And I know just the tone to use for this generous Mister.

That night, I tried calling out to Silas again, but all I got was a faint spark and an intense burning sensation inside me. Not in my chest, but somewhere deeper, as though something connected to my soul was burning me from the inside out.

It was agonizing, but not a single sound slipped from my lips. In my past life, I had endured far worse torture. This was nothing.

Still, the pain told me something important. Whatever was keeping my wolf hidden was far stronger than this body could withstand. So, in the end, we were back to the same plan: get stronger, and I’d find a way to get Silas back.

The next morning, before the sun had even broken over the horizon, I was out of the house. It was early but not too early that the casino wouldn’t be opened. But aren’t places like that supposed to be open 24/7?

Anyway, I had slipped on the exact same oversized dark hoodie and cap from the day before—the universal signal to Edgar’s personal security that I wasn’t just some random street rat wandering into their territory, but the ’mystery kid’ who had raked in forty grand and got carried straight into the boss’s private office by the boss himself.

Sure enough, the moment I arrived at the rear entrance of the casino, the Beta guards at the door straightened up. One of them immediately pressed a button on his earpiece, clearing a path for me without raising a single weapon.

Minutes later, I was standing inside Edgar’s office.

The early morning light bled through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows, casting long, dramatic shadows across the polished floor. Edgar was sitting behind his massive desk, dressed in a tailored vest, a glass of dark espresso in hand.

When he raised his golden eyes and saw me strolling in like I owned the place, his dark eyebrows shot up in quiet, amused disbelief.

"You again?"