Velena moved through the crowd with practiced ease, her senses heightened. The Lunar Gala was a battlefield disguised as a ballroom, and every glance, every whispered conversation carried weight.
She could still feel Ceil's gaze on her, measuring her every move. But it wasn't just him—someone else was watching.
She had spent enough years in endangered situations to recognize the feeling. Her mind raced, but her movements remained casual. She picked up a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, careful to mask her thoughts.
"Who else is here?"
Her encounter with Victor had already complicated things, but she wasn't about to let emotions cloud her judgment. As she moved further from the center of the Gala, heading toward the quieter corridors of the venue, she felt it again—a familiar presence. Someone was following her.
She turned a corner, walking into a dimly lit hallway lined with old portraits and antique vases. She didn't stop, didn't hesitate, but her fingers itched to reach for the knife strapped to her thigh—just in case.
Then, a voice. Low, smooth. "You're playing a dangerous game, Velena."
She stilled. The voice was unfamiliar, but the weight behind it was real.
Slowly, she turned.
A man stood at the far end of the hallway, half his face hidden in the shadows. His suit was crisp, his posture relaxed—but there was something in his stance that told her he wasn't just another guest.
"Do I know you?" Velena asked, keeping her voice even.
The man smiled slightly, but it didn't reach his eyes. "Not yet, but I know you. And I know Ceil."
Her grip on the champagne glass tightened. "And?"
The man took a step closer, his voice barely above a whisper. "Trust no one tonight. Especially not him."
The man chuckled, his gaze unreadable. "Call it a warning before it's too late."
Before she could respond, he turned and disappeared into the shadows, leaving nothing behind except a lingering sense of unease.
Velena exhaled slowly. "Who the hell was that?"
And more importantly—what did he know that she didn't?
THE MASKED THREAT...
Velena didn't return to the main ballroom immediately. Instead, she pulled out her phone and sent a quick message to one of her off-grid contacts.
"Find out who else was invited to the Lunar Gala. Discretely."
She wasn't about to ignore a warning, no matter how cryptic.
When she finally stepped back into the grand hall, she spotted Ceil talking to an older man near the center of the room. Their conversation looked relaxed, but Velena knew better. She walked toward them just as Ceil noticed her approach. His gaze flickered briefly over her expression, and for the briefest moment, she saw it—a flicker of something guarded.
He knew something.
And she was going to find out what.