You trust him?
Him?
The one with the pretty words and the sad-boy eyes?
The one who's always in the right place—but just a little too late?
What about her?
The girl with blood under her fingernails and a laugh like broken glass. She says she's tired, but she sleeps just fine, doesn't she?
Let's play a game.
William.
Darling William.
He holds some secrets like rosary beads—counting them, whispering them, blessing them.
But who do you think he's praying to?
Dalia?
She looks like spring, acts like winter.
Loyal, sweet, spinning so fast in everyone's orbit—but somehow always standing still.
Wouldn't it be perfect if she was the one pulling strings?
You wouldn't even notice the chokehold.
André.
Oh. Sweetheart.
He smiles like he's never lied.
But isn't it funny how he always finds the exits?
He always knows when the knife is coming… just not who's holding it.
Red?
She doesn't even know what game she's playing.
But she's playing it better than anyone.
She doesn't flinch when the room goes quiet—she is the quiet.
And yet…
Who handed her the file?
Who bought her in the first place?
She's holding the prince like a hand grenade and doesn't even know the pin's in her own mouth.
Enzo.
He's the joke, right? The comic relief?
Then why does every locked door open when he walks by?
He says he doesn't belong here.
But he's still here.
And accidents only happen once.
Davenport?
He watches from the shadows, as quiet as a breath held too long.
Money as old as secrets. Power so precise it leaves no room for error.
He speaks, and things happen—without hesitation, without remorse.
He doesn't pull strings. He lets others do that, then takes what they leave behind.
And Lincoln?
You almost forgot him, didn't you?
Everyone does.
That's how he wins.
He doesn't make threats. He makes schedules.
He tells people where to be, what to say, and they say thank you.
He's not the shadow behind the curtain.
He is the curtain.
And by the time you think to pull it back?
The show's already over.
So go ahead.
And maybe it's not any of them.
Maybe it's someone standing just out of view.
Someone you barely noticed in Chapter Two.
Someone you dismissed with a careless glance.
You trust him?
Her?
Them?
Then you deserve what's coming next.Trust all of them, if it helps you sleep at night.
But when the game ends, and the lights come up—
Don't act surprised when the only one clapping…
is me.