The Gala of Shadows

The invitation arrived the next morning—slipped beneath the door in a black envelope sealed with a crimson wax crest.

Olivia stared at it, heart pounding.

Damon was already beside her before she spoke. "It's from them."

"Vespera?" she asked, voice low.

He nodded. "They're calling you out. Publicly."

Her hands trembled as she cracked the seal.

You are cordially invited to the annual Vespera Gala. Attendance is non-negotiable. Midnight. Arrive alone.

Damon's voice was ice. "You're not going without me."

"They said alone."

He stepped forward. "And I say over my dead body."

Hours Later — Vespera Holdings Ballroom

The gala was unlike anything Olivia had ever seen. It wasn't just opulence—it was power dressed in velvet and diamonds. Floor-length gowns sparkled beneath chandeliers the size of cars. Men in suits and smirks lined the marble walls, each drink a silent weapon.

Eyes followed her as she walked in alone.

She wore a black silk gown Damon had chosen—a second skin that shimmered like liquid midnight. It made her look untouchable.

She wasn't.

The moment she entered, the crowd split like a tide. And from across the room, a voice pierced the air.

"Well, well. If it isn't the prodigal daughter of Richard Bennett."

Olivia turned—and froze.

Jackson Crane.

The last man she'd kissed before Damon Cross. Her ex. Her father's business protégé. And the one man who knew everything about her family's fall.

He looked exactly the same—polished, charming, dangerous.

"I was wondering when you'd resurface," he drawled, stepping forward. "I thought your new husband had buried you somewhere remote."

"I'm not buried," Olivia replied coolly. "I'm just getting started."

He laughed. "Still fire in that blood. I missed it."

She didn't smile.

"What do you want, Jackson?"

He leaned in, voice soft. "Only to help you. You're in way over your head."

"I can handle myself."

"Can you?" His gaze darkened. "Because you're walking into a lion's den with wolves at your back. Damon can't save you from everyone."

She didn't flinch. "I didn't come for help. I came for answers."

"Then follow me."

Private Lounge — Upstairs

Jackson led her through a velvet-curtained hallway to a quiet lounge with panoramic views of the city. Music from below was muffled by thick walls.

He poured two drinks and handed her one. "To truth, then."

Olivia took a sip. "Start talking."

Jackson set the glass down, his voice low. "Your father wasn't just dealing with Vespera. He was part of something older. Blood-oath level old. The ledger that went missing? It doesn't just have transactions. It has names."

She blinked. "Whose names?"

"Politicians. Judges. CEOs. People who built their empires on blood and silence. That ledger is a death sentence—for them, and for anyone who holds it."

"So why do they think I have it?"

"Because your father hid it with your name. In his will. In a vault that requires your biometric access. And now everyone wants it—including Damon."

She reeled. "You're lying."

"I wish I was."

His voice turned gentle. "You think Damon's protecting you. But he's also using you. To finish what your father started."

Olivia stood, shaking. "You don't know anything about Damon."

"I know he's done things even I won't touch. And if you let him drag you down, Olivia—there won't be anything left of you to save."

Meanwhile — Outside the Gala

Damon waited in the shadows, dressed in black, a gun holstered beneath his coat.

He watched as people walked past the entrance—powerful men with smiles like knives. His ears buzzed with tension.

He hated waiting.

Especially when she was inside alone.

"Talk to me," he whispered into his earpiece.

His contact on the inside answered. "She's with Jackson Crane."

Damon's teeth ground together. "If he lays a finger on her—"

"He won't. Not here. Too public."

Still, Damon's hand hovered near his weapon.

Jackson Crane wasn't just a nuisance. He was part of Vespera. Groomed by Richard Bennett himself. And he knew exactly how to twist Olivia's mind.

Damon stepped closer to the entrance, ignoring protocol.

Screw public. Screw plans.

He'd tear the place apart if he had to.

Back Inside

Olivia turned to leave. "Thanks for the truth. But I choose who I trust. And it's not you."

Jackson's smile was sad. "Don't wait until it's too late to regret that."

She stepped out of the lounge—and straight into Damon's chest.

His arms were already around her.

"You followed me?" she asked, startled.

"You didn't actually think I wouldn't?"

He saw the tears she tried to hide. The flush in her cheeks.

"What did he say to you?"

"Nothing I didn't already know," she whispered. "But everything I didn't want to hear."

He pulled her close. "Whatever it is—we'll face it together."

"Promise?"

His breath was warm against her ear. "I'll burn every name in that ledger if it means keeping you safe."

Later That Night — Damon's Penthouse

She was quiet the entire ride home.

When they arrived, she walked straight to the balcony and stood there, the wind whipping her hair around her face.

He followed.

"I want to know everything," she said. "From the beginning."

He didn't hesitate.

He told her about the vault. The code with her name. The danger of unlocking it. The names it held. The truth about her father's death—and the one thing that changed everything:

"Your father wasn't trying to protect the ledger. He was trying to protect you."

She turned. "What do you mean?"

"He changed his mind. He knew too much. When he tried to leave… they made sure he couldn't."

Tears streamed down her face. "So now I'm the key to finishing his mistake."

"No," Damon said fiercely. "You're the only one who can end it."

He reached for her hand, his voice raw. "You don't have to do this alone, Olivia. Not anymore."

She looked at him—and for the first time, let herself believe it.

But in the shadows beyond the building, a sniper watched through his scope.

And his finger rested on the trigger.