Chapter 18: Into the Lion's Den....

The invitation felt heavier than parchment in my hands. Midnight. A private gathering at Thompson's estate. It was our way in, but it was also a trap waiting to be sprung.

Lillian exhaled sharply, her fingers tightening at her sides. "So we're really doing this?"

Carter stood, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. "We don't have a choice." His gaze flicked to me. "We leave at sundown."

I nodded, swallowing the unease creeping up my spine.

Luca, still lounging in his chair, smirked. "Try not to get yourselves killed."

We left the gambling den, slipping into the cold night air. The streets were quieter now, but the city never truly slept. Shadows moved behind shuttered windows, and distant voices carried on the wind.

Back at the inn, we gathered in our small rented room. A single lantern flickered on the wooden table, casting uneven light across the map Carter had spread out.

Lillian paced, arms crossed. "Let's be realistic—how are we supposed to blend in at a noble's gathering?"

"We dress the part," Carter said. "And act the part."

I frowned. "That's assuming we even make it past the front gates."

Lillian let out a sharp laugh. "Right. Because Thompson's men won't recognize us the second we step inside."

Carter tapped the map. "We'll stick to the crowd, avoid drawing attention. Once we're in, we find the ledger and get out. Simple."

"Simple?" I repeated, arching a brow. "Have you ever known anything to go according to plan?"

He hesitated but didn't argue.

Lillian sighed, rubbing her temples. "We'll need disguises. And weapons."

Carter nodded. "I'll take care of the outfits. Lillian, you handle the weapons." His gaze met mine. "Everly, you'll be our way in."

I stilled. "What?"

"Luca wouldn't have given us this invitation unless it could be used properly," he said. "Which means someone will expect a guest under that name. You'll play that role."

A cold weight settled in my stomach.

Lillian looked equally unimpressed. "That's a terrible idea."

"It's our best one."

I wanted to protest, but the logic was sound. If I could slip past the first layer of scrutiny, it would buy us enough time to get inside unnoticed.

Lillian shook her head. "Fine. But I don't like it."

Neither did I.

The next few hours were spent preparing.

Carter returned with formal wear—elegant but subtle, the kind that wouldn't draw too much attention. He handed me a deep blue gown with silver embroidery, its fabric lighter than I expected. Lillian's dress was a darker shade, her hair pinned up to disguise her usual sharp edges. Carter, meanwhile, had secured a tailored coat and polished boots, the image of a man who belonged at such an event.

When I tried the dress on, the tight bodice made it harder to breathe. The weight of the fabric felt unnatural, the flowing skirt a restriction rather than an elegance.

Lillian arched a brow. "You clean up well."

I scoffed. "I feel ridiculous."

Carter's gaze lingered on me for a moment before he tossed a velvet mask onto the bed. "You'll need this."

I picked it up, tracing the fine embroidery along the edges. "A masquerade?"

"More of a security measure," Carter said. "Thompson prefers his guests' identities hidden—to an extent. It works in our favor."

Lillian, sitting by the table, pulled a dagger from her boot and began securing it under the folds of her dress. "And the weapons?"

Carter produced a small, silver blade. "You'll carry this."

I hesitated before taking it. The cool weight in my palm felt reassuring.

Lillian smirked. "We're going to be the best-dressed criminals in that room.

As the night deepened, tension settled over us.

Carter stood by the window, watching the streets below. "If something goes wrong, we leave separately. Everly, you head toward the gardens. Lillian, you take the servants' exit."

"And you?" I asked.

Carter's expression was unreadable. "I'll make sure we have a way out."

Lillian leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms. "We don't know what's waiting for us inside. What if Thompson suspects something?"

"He won't," Carter said. "Not at first."

I turned the invitation over in my hands. "And what if he does?"

Carter met my gaze. "Then we improvise."

The room fell into silence.

I could feel the weight of what we were about to do pressing down on us. This wasn't just about sneaking into a noble's party—it was about walking straight into our enemy's domain, surrounded by people who would kill us the moment they sensed something was wrong.

Lillian rubbed her temples. "I hate this plan."

Carter smirked. "You hate all my plans."

"For good reason."

I exhaled slowly, gripping the dagger hidden beneath my skirts. "Then let's hope this is the one that works."

The carriage ride to Thompson's estate was eerily quiet.

The city blurred past in streaks of lantern light and distant laughter. Midnight was close, and as we neared the gates, my heart pounded in my chest.

Thompson's manor loomed ahead—three stories of stone and glass, its entrance lined with torch-lit columns. Men in tailored suits and women in elegant gowns stepped through the gates, their masks hiding their identities just as ours did.

Our carriage came to a halt.

Carter adjusted his cufflinks, his voice low. "Stay close. Act natural."

Lillian sighed. "Natural. Right."

A guard approached, his eyes scanning the line of carriages before landing on us.

I handed him the invitation with steady fingers. He inspected it for a moment before nodding. "Proceed."

The doors of the manor opened, revealing a grand hall filled with golden chandeliers and the hum of conversation.

We stepped inside.

The game had begun.