VEIL OF DECEPTION

The air reeked of gunpowder and fear. Ethan didn't flinch.

He could hear the sniper repositioning. Fast. Professional. Deadly.

Dominic shoved him behind a stone pillar, cursing under his breath. "I told you, man! I told you messing with Seraphina was a suicide note!"

Ethan's pulse steadied. He wiped blood—not his—off his sleeve. "And yet, here I am. Alive."

"For now." Dominic pulled out his phone, dialing a number. "I need a clean-up. Rooftop sniper. Confirmed hostile. Yeah. Now."

Ethan exhaled slowly. Think. Who sent the shooter?

Pierce? Too predictable.

Lucien? Amused, not threatened.

Seraphina's father? Testing him? Or warning him?

Or was it someone else entirely?

A third shot. Closer. Stone cracked near his head.

Ethan smirked. Amateurs. If they wanted him dead, he'd already be a corpse.

They were trying to scare him. To send a message.

Wrong move.

He reached into his jacket, pulling out a sleek black pistol. Message received. Reply pending.

—

Dominic's phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen, then at Ethan. "Your ride's waiting."

"Good." Ethan adjusted his cuffs, stepping into the chaos like he belonged there. "Let's move."

The ballroom was a war zone. Security swarmed. Guests screamed. And yet, the true players watched in silence.

Lucien Vale, sipping his whiskey.

Donovan Pierce, expression unreadable.

Seraphina, smirking from the upper balcony.

Eyes were on him.

Ethan walked straight through the center of the carnage, unbothered. He wasn't running. He wasn't hiding. He was making a statement.

You want me gone? Try harder.

The doors burst open. A sleek black car idled at the curb.

"Get in," Dominic ordered.

Ethan slid inside, barely seated before the tires screeched, speeding into the night.

Dominic glanced at him. "You should be dead."

Ethan smirked, rolling down the window. "Yeah." He let the wind hit his face. "But I'm not."

—

The safe house was dimly lit, tucked away in the city's underbelly. Dominic paced, muttering curses. "Whoever sent that hit wants you buried. You need to lay low."

Ethan poured himself a drink, unbothered. "And miss all the fun?"

Dominic grabbed his shoulder. "I'm serious. This is bigger than—"

The door creaked open.

Astrid.

She stepped inside, tossing a folder onto the table. "You owe me."

Ethan arched a brow. "For?"

She tapped the file. "For saving your damn life."

He flipped it open.

Names. Locations. The sniper's employer.

Ethan's smirk returned.

The game had just begun.