The night was shifting. Velena could feel it in the air, a subtle but undeniable tension creeping into the elegant surroundings of the Lunar Gala. The chandeliers still sparked, the music still played, and laughter still floated through the Grand Hall, but beneath it all, something had changed.
Ceil had felt it too. His carefully constructed mask of charm and ease had slipped, but there was something in his posture, in the way his fingers tapped against his glass with calculated rhythm. He was thinking hard.
Velena had just told him about the stranger's warning. "Don't trust Ceil Blackthorn."
And Ceil had smirked. "Good. Keep it that way."
A lesser person would have been thrown off by those words, but Velena wasn't a fool. She understood what he meant. Ceil expected her to doubt him. And that meant only one thing—there was something worth doubting.
But before she could push him further, his phone vibrated. Ceil barely glanced at the screen before his jaw tightened slightly, a flicker of something dark passing through his eyes.
Without a word, he turned and walked out of the ballroom. Velena didn't hesitate. She followed.
THE WOMAN IN THE SHADOWS
She trailed Ceil through the corridors of the Star Grand, weaving past high-profile guests and their whispered conversations. He was moving with purpose, not stopping for anyone, his pace measured but urgent.
When he reached a private lounge, he pushed the door open and walked in without knocking. Velena stepped in right behind him.
The room was dimly lit, the glow from the fireplace casting flickering shadows across the dark wood and leather furnishings. And sitting there, poised and completely unbothered, was Clara Devereaux.
Velena recognized her immediately. Everyone in Ceil's world knew who she was. A broker of secrets. Facilitator of power. A woman whose loyalty belonged only to the highest bidder.
Clara glanced up from the glass of whiskey in her hand and smiled. "Blackthorn," she said smoothly, tilting her head slightly. "You took your time."
Ceil shut the door behind them and leaned against it, arms crossed. "If I knew you were inviting me for drinks, I would have brought a better bottle."
Clara smirked, but there was something sharp in her eyes. "Oh, I think you'll find this conversation sobering enough."
She set down her glass and pulled something from the pocket of her silk blazer—a small flash drive. She placed it on the table between them and tapped it once with her manicured nail. "You have a leak, Ceil."
Silence.
Velena's eyes flickered to Ceil, studying his reaction. He remained perfectly still, but she could see the way his mind was already working, processing, analyzing.
After a long moment, he finally spoke. "Be specific."
Clara leaned back, completely at ease. "I intercepted something before it reached the wrong hands. Financial records, private dealings—classified information someone close to you is trying to sell."
Velena saw it then. The subtle shift in Ceil's demeanor.
It wasn't surprise.
It was confirmation.
He had suspected this. He already knew someone was betraying him.
Clara slid the flash drive closer to him. "Consider this my gift."
Ceil didn't touch it. He just watched her. "And what do you want in return?"
Clara smiled. "Oh, Ceil. You know I never work for free."
THE COST OF A SECRET...
Ceil finally reached for the flash drive, rolling it between his fingers before slipping it into his pocket. His expression remained unreadable. "You intercepted this before it was sold?"
Clara nodded. "Yes."
"So the buyer is still out there."
A slow smirk. "That's right."
Velena didn't miss the way Ceil's jaw clenched slightly. He was piecing things together, following the threads to whoever had betrayed him.
Clara took another sip of her whiskey before adding, "You should know, Blackthorn... the person trying to sell you out? They're very close to you."
Velena felt the weight of those words settle between them.
Ceil didn't react outwardly, but the air in the room changed.
Clara stood gracefully, smoothing out her dress. "I'd act fast if I were you. Because by the time the night is over... it might already be too late."
She walked to the door, pausing only once. She glanced at Velena, giving her a knowing look. "Nice meeting you. Let's hope you last longer than others."
Velena didn't blink. "I don't believe in luck."
Clara smirked. "Good. You'll need more than that."
And with that, she disappeared into the corridors, leaving behind only the ghost of her perfume.
THE CLOCK IS TICKING...
For a long moment, neither Velena nor Ceil spoke.
Finally, Ceil exhaled slowly. Then, in a voice that was far too calm, he said, "We need to leave."
Velena frowned. "Now?"
Ceil's gaze was unreadable, but there was no room for argument. "Yes."
Velena had known Ceil long enough to understand one thing—he never walked away from a situation unless he absolutely had to. Which meant whatever was on that flash drive... it was big.
She didn't ask questions. She simply followed him out of the lounge.
As they moved quickly through the corridors, Ceil pulled out his phone and made a call. "Bring the car around. We're leaving."
Whoever was on the other end didn't argue.
Velena matched his pace, keeping her voice low. "What's on that drive, Ceil?"
He didn't answer immediately. Then, finally, he said, "Proof."
She frowned. "Proof of what?"
Ceil's jaw clenched slightly as they stepped out into the cold night air. "That someone I trust wants me dead."
Velena inhaled sharply.
She had expected betrayal. She had expected deception.
But she hadn't expected this.
A black car pulled up beside them, and Ceil opened the door for her. "Get in."
Velena hesitated for only a second before sliding inside.
As Ceil got in beside her and the doors locked, she realized something.
This wasn't just a power struggle anymore.
This was a war.
And she had just chosen a side.