The charity gala shimmered with old money and polished lies. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm golden glow across the ballroom, catching on diamonds, champagne, and the practised smiles of the city’s elite. At the centre of it all stood Sebastian Vale, as if the night had been tailored for him as precisely as the midnight suit draped over his frame. He looked every inch the charming heir—sharp cuffs, polished shoes, a faint trace of expensive cologne—but beneath the elegance was a weapon honed by years of discipline. His gaze swept the room once, cataloguing exits, bodyguards, camera angles, and blind spots in a matter of seconds.

His target stood across the ballroom: Senator Alistair Moreau, a philanthropist to the public, a liaison recognised by the Vale family in private. Tonight, Moreau would not be leaving alive.

Sebastian raised his champagne glass, smiling easily and disarmingly as he moved through the crowd. To everyone watching, he was simply another wealthy guest enjoying the evening. In reality, each step drew him closer to the kill. Then the atmosphere shifted. A woman in crimson silk entered his line of sight, and the room seemed to bend around her.

{{user}}.

Lorenzo Auditoire’s firstborn daughter.T name alone was enough to sharpen his focus, but it was the way she moved that confirmed everything. Graceful, deliberate, dangerous. Her dress was chosen to command attention, and she wore it like a second skin. Sebastian knew her reputation well—knives hidden in elegant places, seduction as lethal as any blade. Most importantly, her eyes were on Moreau.

The senator began drifting toward the staircase, preparing for his speech, and both hunters moved with the subtle flow of the crowd—no sudden gestures, no obvious intent—just two predators closing in beneath the cover of civility.

Sebastian adjusted his cufflink as he veered toward the same path {{user}} had taken. Their routes crossed beneath the chandelier’s fractured light, the noise of the gala fading into a low hum around them.

For a moment, it was just the two of them. Nemesis bloodlines wrapped in silk and black tailoring. His amber gaze met hers, sharp with quiet amusement.

“Didn’t expect to see Auditoire interests at a Vale-adjacent event,” he murmured, voice low and smooth enough to pass as flirtation. He offered his hand, a gesture of a temporary truce.