"Which one of you wants to stay?"The boardroom fell silent. Twelve men in charcoal suits stared at me. I stood at the head of the mahogany table, my knuckles white as I leaned against the polished wood. I didn't sit. Jonathan’s signet ring felt heavy on my pinky. Too big. I tucked my hand into the pocket of a suit that cost more than my father’s farm."Mr. Clarke, you can't just—" The lead counsel, a man with a face like crumpled parchment, started to rise."Sit down, Miller." I didn't look at him. I looked at the city through the glass. "I just did. Your retainer was terminated five minutes ago. Your access cards are dead. Your firm’s server has been wiped of every Hayes Tech file. You're a private citizen again. Congratulations.""This is illegal." Miller’s voice went up an octave. "Arthur Hayes is the Chairman. You are a scholarship student with a temporary power of attorney. You have no standing to—""Arthur Hayes is currently in a holding cell being processed for a laundry list

"You look like a king, puppy."Jonathan’s voice crackled through the intercom, thin and metallic. He leaned against the reinforced stool on the other side of the six-inch glass. The orange jumpsuit was three sizes too big. It made his shoulders look sharp. Bony. He hadn't shaved in weeks. A dark, messy scruff covered his jaw."I look like a man who hasn't slept in four days." I didn't sit. I couldn't. I stood in the cramped visitation booth, my hands shoved deep into the pockets of a tailored wool coat. I stared at the smudge of grease on his side of the glass. "They’re treating you okay?""They’re treating me like a Hayes." Jonathan tilted his head. A slow, mocking grin pulled at his cracked lips. "Separate wing. Private shower. No one touches the Prince, Ben. Not even the guards. They’re too afraid of what you’ll do to their bank accounts.""They should be." I stepped closer. The light in the high-security wing was a flat, dead white. It sucked the color out of everything. Except hi

"You’re in the wrong room, Natalie."Natalie Collins froze. She was mid-reach for a plastic bottle of lukewarm gin on the motel dresser. The flickering neon sign outside the window—a cracked 'M' in MOTEL—cast a rhythmic, sickly pink light over her face. She didn't turn. Her hand hovered. Shaking."Benjamin." She finally pulled her hand back. She didn't grab the gin. She gripped the edge of the laminate wood. "How did you find this place?""Jonathan’s father has a very predictable taste in cheap hiding spots." I stepped out of the shadows by the bathroom door. The air in the room was thick. Cale, sweat, and the sharp, chemical tang of bleach. "And you have a very predictable way of spending his money. Three star ratings. Cash only. No cameras.""I had to leave." Natalie turned. Her hair was a bird's nest. A dark bruise, the color of a rotting plum, blossomed across her cheekbone. "Arthur... he was going to kill me, Ben. I saw the ledger. I saw what they did to the boys at the orchard."

"Light it up."The match hissed. A tiny, flickering spark in the damp darkness of the loading dock. I didn't wait for a response. I flicked the stick into the river of gasoline.The warehouse didn't just burn. It exhaled. A roar of blue and orange heat that slammed into my chest. I didn't move back. The sweat on my forehead turned cold in the wind of the blast."Mr. Clarke, the perimeter is clear." Miller stepped beside me. He was wearing a tactical vest over a three-thousand-dollar suit. He looked ridiculous. He looked terrified. "But we need to go. The fire department is five minutes out.""Let them come." I watched the flames lick the side of a crate marked PROPERTY OF PRICE LOGISTICS. "Did you find the central stash?""The pills? Yes." Miller held up a small, reinforced silver briefcase. "Every dose of the Loyalty batch. Nathaniel was planning to move them to the docks tonight.""Hand it over." I took the case. It was heavy. It felt like holding a dozen lives in my hand. "And the

"Where is she, Benjamin?"Arthur Hayes stood in the center of my penthouse, his hands buried in the pockets of a coat that cost more than my first three years of tuition. His face was a map of broken capillaries and desperate, twitching nerves. He didn't look like a King anymore. He looked like a man who had forgotten to breathe."You're a little late for the kidnapping, Arthur." I didn't turn away from the window. The city lights were a blur of cold white and sharp yellow. "The school called three hours ago. Your men arrived in a black SUV with tinted windows. Very original. Very predictable.""I am the Chairman of this company." His voice cracked. A jagged, ugly sound. "I am the man who made you. I can take your sister to whatever facility I deem necessary for her safety.""She’s not at a facility." I turned. My eyes weren't blue. They were dead. "She’s not in the country. She’s not even in this hemisphere.""You... you wouldn't.""I did." I walked toward him. My shoes clicked again

"Which one of you is first?"I spat a mouthful of copper onto the cracked asphalt of the yard. My knuckles were raw, skin hanging in white strips where I’d caught a jawbone. Six of them. Big. Tattoos crawling up their necks like ivy. They didn't have the blue of the guards or the grey of the regulars. These were Price’s men. Professional hitters who’d traded their suits for jumpsuits just to clock my heart rate from the inside."Nathaniel says hello." The one in the lead—a mountain of a man with a jagged scar bisecting his left eyebrow—produced a sharpened toothbrush. The plastic handle was wrapped in duct tape. "He also said you’re not as pretty as the other one.""The other one would have killed you by now." I shifted my weight. My knees ground together. "I’m just going to enjoy it.""Bold for a dead man."The mountain lunged.He was fast. I was faster. I stepped inside his reach. My elbow connected with his nose. Crunch. Cartilage gave way. Blood sprayed my face. It was warm. Salty

All Chapters of THE THIRTY-DAY GAMBLE: Chapter 61 - Chapter 66

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