Chapter 136 Coco beats

Chapter 136 Coco beats
Chapter 136: Coco Beats

Night settled thick over Roy’s mansion, the kind of quiet that came only after staff had retreated and the city noise thinned into a distant hum. The house felt occupied but still, like a place holding its breath. Roy’s bedroom lights were dimmed low, the curtains half-drawn. 

Roy lay stretched across the bed with Coco beneath him, his head resting on her chest, one arm heavy across her waist. Her back was against the headboard, posture stiff even as she tried to appear relaxed. His breathing was steady, slow, the weight of him familiar and strange at the same time.

Roy spoke without looking up, his voice casual. “You good?”

Coco answered after a beat. “I’m fine.”

He shifted slightly, settling more comfortably. “You’re tense.”

She scoffed lightly. “You dragged me into your house, your bedroom, your arms. I’m allowed to be tense.”

Roy smiled to himself. “Fair.”

Silence returned, broken only by the faint buzz of Roy’s phone vibrating on the bedside table. He reached for it, glanced at the screen, then looked back at Coco. “I need to take this.”

She shrugged. “Go ahead.”

He didn’t move away. He answered the call with the phone resting against his chest, still on her. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “I’m here.”

Coco stared straight ahead, eyes unfocused, listening without meaning to. Roy didn’t bother lowering his voice much. He never did when he felt safe.

“We’re on track,” Roy said. “Better than projected.”

A muffled voice responded from the phone. Coco couldn’t hear the words clearly, but Roy’s replies filled in the gaps.

“No, the Southside numbers are shifting. Not loudly, but they’re moving. Church blocs too. Quiet endorsements.”

He paused, listening. Coco’s fingers curled into the sheets beside her.

“I told you,” Roy continued. “People don’t need noise anymore. They need stability. They’re tired.”

Another pause. Roy’s jaw tightened slightly. “Chief Kaave’s camp thinks they’re ahead. They’re not. They’re bleeding support and they don’t even know where it’s leaking from.”

Coco’s chest rose slowly beneath him. Her heart beat harder, but her face stayed calm.

Roy went on. “We’re gaining ground in districts we weren’t supposed to touch until late cycle. That changes everything.”

He shifted his weight, absentmindedly rubbing his thumb against Coco’s side as if grounding himself. “No, don’t rush the announcement. Let them keep underestimating us.”

Coco swallowed. She knew that tone. That was Roy when he was certain.

“Yeah,” he said, quieter now. “If this keeps up, we win. Clean.”

The word landed heavy. Win.

Roy ended the call and placed the phone back on the table. He exhaled, long and satisfied, then tilted his head up to look at Coco. “You hear any of that?”

She met his gaze evenly. “You weren’t whispering.”

He chuckled. “Guess I wasn’t.”

“You’re confident,” she said.

“For a reason.” He rested his cheek back against her chest. “They think I’m still scrambling. I’m not.”

Coco stared at the ceiling. “You sound sure.”

“I am.” His voice softened. “And before you say it, no, I’m not stupid. I know who I’m up against. I know your father.”

Her jaw tightened at the word father.

Roy continued, “But he’s fighting yesterday’s war. He still thinks fear and control win elections. People are done with that.”

Coco let out a quiet breath. “You sound like you’ve already won.”

“Not yet,” Roy said. “But soon.”

He shifted again, propping himself slightly on his elbow to look at her properly. “You know what the funny part is?”

She raised an eyebrow. “What.”

“You being here doesn’t even matter to the math.”

Her eyes flicked to his. “What’s that supposed to mean.”

“It means whether you’re spying, lying, or playing both sides,” he said calmly, “this thing is already moving.”

Coco laughed once, short and humorless. “You think I’m spying.”

“I think you’re Coco.” He said it without accusation. “You always listen. You always calculate.”

“And yet you still talk like this around me.”

“Because part of me doesn’t care anymore. I love you.” 

That landed harder than she expected.

Roy studied her face. “You could tell him everything you just heard.”

She didn’t answer.

“You could run back and warn him,” Roy continued. “Shift strategies. Stir panic.”

Coco finally spoke. “You don’t sound afraid.”

“I’m not.”

She looked away. “You should be.”

Roy smiled faintly. “Maybe.”

Another silence stretched between them. Coco’s mind moved faster than her body. Numbers, districts, quiet endorsements, early shifts. Roy was right. Chief Kaave believed he was ahead because no one had told him otherwise. Because Coco hadn’t told him otherwise.

Roy lay back down fully, his head returning to her chest. “You know,” he said, “I never thought you’d sit this still again.”

She closed her eyes briefly. “Neither did I.”

His fingers traced slow, absent lines along her arm. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I know.”

“But you are.”

“Yes.”

He hummed softly. “That means something.”

Coco didn’t respond. Her phone buzzed in her pocket. Once. Twice. She didn’t move. Roy felt it.

“You gonna check that?” he asked.

“No.”

He lifted his head slightly, watching her face. “You sure.”

“Yes.”

He studied her for a moment, then nodded, settling back down. “Okay.”

The buzzing stopped. The room stayed quiet.

Coco stared ahead, thoughts colliding. She could send a message now. A single text. Roy is closer than you think. He’s winning. Change course. Burn something down.

She imagined Chief Kaave reading it, his jaw tightening, his plans shifting. Vill smirking. Brandy calculating. Everything tightening around her again.

Roy shifted, half-asleep now. “You’re thinking too loud,” he murmured.

She exhaled. “I always do.”

He smiled against her skin. “Whatever you’re thinking, don’t.”

She looked down at him. “You trust me that much.”

He didn’t answer right away. Then, “I trust myself.”

That did it. Something in her chest loosened and burned at the same time.

Coco reached into her pocket, pulled out her phone, and looked at the screen. Several missed notifications. She unlocked it, stared at the blank message window she’d already opened earlier, unsent.

Her fingers hovered. Then she closed the app. She locked the phone. She set it face down on the bedside table.

Roy didn’t notice. Or maybe he did and chose not to.

Coco leaned her head back, eyes on the ceiling, heart steadying. For the first time in a long while, she chose not to move a piece.

She sent nothing.