Damien was sweating bullets as he spoke, even though he tried his best not to show it.


    After all, he was reporting back on the sly.


    Mr. Myers had strictly told him not to breathe a word of this to thedy.


    See, Mr. Myers worried that if his wife ever found out he''d been poking his nose into her whereabouts, constantly curious about what she was up to, she''d get annoyed with him. And that was thest thing Mr. Myers wanted. So, he''d sent Damien to spy and report back quietly.


    Damien honestly thought that if he just told Mrs. Myers straight to her face, she''d never suspect a thing-she was way too sharp for that, right?


    Wrong. She still caught on.


    "Really?" Calliope eyed Damien suspiciously.


    "Really! I swear I''m not making anything up," Damien blurted, nervous as a cat in a room full of rocking chairs. "You don''t need to worry, ma''am."


    Calliope didn''t press him. Honestly, she''d just been asking offhand-one look at Damien''s panicked face and she knew for sure: Ss had sent him to report in.


    But it didn''t bother her. If Ss was that curious, he could''ve just asked her directly -she had nothing to hide. It''s not like she was up to anything shady.


    He already knew she was here for the auction. Plus, with that many people milling about, he could ask just about anyone and find out what she was doing.


    After finishing up their meal-burgers, fries, and a couple slices of apple pie-the three of them made their way to the casino.


    Compared to the restaurant, the casino was a circus. Neon lights,ughter, the chiming of slot machines-it was packed, buzzing with energy.


    Portia''s eyes lit up the second they walked in. She was craning her neck, trying to take in everything at once, looking like a kid at Disnend.


    "This all looks amazing!" she eximed, practically bouncing with excitement.


    "Let''s grab some chips first," Calliope grinned. "Take a look around, see what you want to try!"


    "I only know how to y the easy stuff," Portia admitted, a little sheepish.


    She was curious, sure, but when it came to games, Calliope was way ahead of her-heck, even if she''d never yed something before, Calliope could pick it up just by watching once. Portia had always admired that about her.


    "No worries, we''re just here to have fun Calliopeughed This isn''t a Competition. Besides, it''s not our money-it''s your brother''s, isn''t it?"


    Portia''s face brightened. "That''s right! We''re ying on the house. In that case, I''ll try whatever I want!"


    After a bit more chit-chat, Calliope headed over to exchange cash for chips.


    Damien, meanwhile, stayed close to


    Portia. Sure, his job was to stick by


    Calliope, but her orders trumped everything. And honestly, everyone knew she could handle


    if


    anything happened that Calliope couldn''t fix, there''s no way Damien could, either. Content befongs to


    "So, Damien, which game do you think is the most fun?" Portia asked, after scoping out the casino floor.


    "If you want something easy, how about Craps?" Damien suggested. "Doesn''t take any skill-just luck."


    Portia raised an eyebrow at him.


    Damien hesitated. "Did I say something wrong?"


    "You think I''m lucky?" she teased.


    He shrugged. "Who knows? No way to tell unless you try, right?"


    "You''re right. Only one way to find out!" Portia grinned, looking ready to roll.


    Over by the cashier, just as Calliope was collecting her chips, she suddenly froze.


    Two familiar faces had just walked in.


    A tall, imposing man in a sharp suit, his arm protectively around a beautiful woman—there was no mistaking them.


    Wasn''t that Jett White and his wife? She''d run into them before.


    Blythe White''s Parents