Kate Lockwood never liked parties that required NDAs.

This one required something worse.

An unmarked invitation arrived on heavy cream paper—no return address, no explanation. Just an address, a time, and a single line:

Everyone here is lying. The question is who lies best.

You read it twice before handing it back to her. “This is a trap.”

Kate smiled faintly. “They usually are.”

The event took place in a private townhouse, the kind owned by people who never appear in scandals—because they control them. Politicians’ heirs. Tech ghosts. Old-money socialites with spotless reputations and buried histories.

The rules were simple. Cruel.

Each guest would be asked a question. Tell the truth, and you lose leverage. Lie badly, and you lose everything.

Reputations. Careers. Freedom.

You stayed close to Kate as champagne flowed and eyes assessed value like currency.

“They know things,” you murmured. “About you.”

Kate nodded. “About everyone.”

The game began.

A woman across the room was asked about a company she “never invested in.” She hesitated too long. By morning, her name would be trending.

Then it was Kate’s turn.

A man with a calm smile asked, “Have you ever benefited from someone else’s disappearance?”

The room went silent.

Your heart dropped.

You knew Kate’s past—things she’d survived, choices she’d buried. This wasn’t a question meant to be answered. It was a warning.

Kate didn’t look at the man.

She looked at you.

In that glance was a question: Do I tell the truth and burn everything? Or do I lie and become like them?

You shook your head—just once.

Not no. Not alone.

Kate exhaled and smiled, cool and precise.

“No,” she said. “I’ve only ever benefited from people underestimating me.”