She couldn't sleep. Not after the ball. Not after tasting power.
The east wing called to her like a siren. This time, she came prepared—with a stolen key.
Inside the locked room was a wall of vengeance. Photos. Names. Red string connecting people like a conspiracy theory. In the center—her. Elise.
And around her, the web of rot. Her father. Gregory Vale. Other names she didn't recognize.
Silas entered quietly. "Now you see it."
"You've been planning this for years," she whispered.
He didn't deny it. "And now you're a part of it. Not as a pawn. As my equal."
She turned to him, her fury and pain burning hot. "Let's end them all."
And for the first time, he smiled without restraint.