CHAPTER 21

Building a New Power

The club pulsed with energy, the bass vibrating through the floor like a living thing. Smoke curled in the air, thick with whiskey, ambition, and danger. I moved through the crowd with purpose, my heels clicking against the marble like a countdown to something inevitable.

I wasn't here to be seen. I was here to make myself unforgettable.

The invitation had come quietly—a slip of paper tucked into my coat pocket, an address scrawled in elegant handwriting, no name attached. That was how they worked. The real power didn't send text messages or make phone calls. It whispered through the cracks of the city, waiting to see who was sharp enough to listen.

I was listening.

The back room was guarded by a man built like a mountain, his expression carved from stone. His eyes flicked over me once, taking in the tailored black dress, the confidence in my stride, the way I didn't flinch under his scrutiny.

"You're late," he said.

"I like to make an entrance."

His lip twitched—almost amusement, but not quite. Then he stepped aside.

The room was nothing like the chaos outside. No flashing lights. No suffocating music. Just a long, sleek table, glasses filled but untouched, and four of the most dangerous people in the city watching me as I stepped inside.

This was where real business was done.

I recognized them instantly. Lorenzo Devereaux, the king of high-stakes deals. Vanessa Cho, the strategist who could turn whispers into weapons. Marco Vance, the man who owned more secrets than the government. And at the head of the table, untouched by time, sat Elias Crane.

He watched me with the kind of interest that made lesser people squirm. I wasn't lesser.

"You made it," he said, his voice as smooth as aged bourbon.

I took the empty seat, crossing my legs deliberately. "I don't waste invitations."

Lorenzo smirked, swirling the amber liquid in his glass. "Smart. But smarts don't buy you a seat at this table."

I leaned forward, matching his smirk with one of my own. "No, but power does. And I intend to have plenty of it."

Vanessa raised a brow. "Bold words from someone who walked in alone."

I let the silence stretch before answering. "I don't need an army to be dangerous."

Elias chuckled, low and rich. "Dangerous is good. But tell me, Celeste—what exactly do you bring to this table?"

This was the moment. The edge of the knife where one wrong word could cut me down before I even had the chance to rise.

I held Elias's gaze, steady and sure. "I bring connections the rest of you overlook. The ones who don't sit in luxury clubs but who control the streets. The ones who whisper before the storm hits. You want to know where power shifts before it happens? I'm your girl."

Marco tilted his head, intrigued. "You think you know more than we do?"

"I know different things," I corrected. "And that makes me valuable."

Elias watched me like a man considering a gamble. Then, slowly, he nodded. "Alright. Let's see what you can do."

Lorenzo raised his glass. "Welcome to the table."

I clinked my glass against his, the taste of victory sharp and intoxicating.

I stepped into the lion's den. And now, I plan to make it my own.