The ballroom of the Orion Grand Hotel was a sea of black ties, glittering diamonds, and predatory smiles. Elara felt the weight of hundreds of eyes on her, but only one pair mattered. Kian's. She could feel his gaze from the security hub, a physical pressure on her skin. She wore it like a cloak, a part of her costume.
The ambient music, a soft, minimalist symphony, washed over the crowd. To everyone else, it was pleasant background noise. To Elara, it felt... wrong. There was a subliminal layer to it, a set of frequencies that made the tiny hairs on her arms stand up. It was a faint, almost imperceptible vibration that reminded her of the ultrasonic tone she had found. It was a signal.
Seraphina, she thought. This is her move.
Then, through the crowd, she saw her target. Dr. Valeria Wu was approaching, a polite, academic smile on her face. It was the same face from the grainy video in the Icarus archive, now older, but with the same cold intelligence in her eyes. The game was beginning.
"Miss Meng," Dr. Wu began, her voice smooth and practiced. "An honor to finally meet you. I'm Dr. Wu. I was a great admirer of your mother's work."
The lie was so effortless it was almost impressive.
"The pleasure is all mine, Doctor," Elara replied, her voice steady. The subtle hum in the music seemed to grow louder in her mind. "I was hoping I could speak with you. I'm fascinated by the foundation's research into the connection between psychology and art."
She was ready. She had the key—the knowledge of the lullaby, the one thing that could act as a shield. She would let Dr. Wu make her pitch, and then she would turn the weapon back on its creator.
***
The service corridors behind the ballroom smelled of boiled linen and disinfectant. Julian, dressed in the dark grey uniform of a hotel maintenance worker, pushed a utility cart filled with cleaning supplies. The uniform was a size too big, and the fake ID badge clipped to his pocket felt like a block of ice.
"CCTV loop on corridor seven is active," Celeste's voice crackled almost silently in his earpiece. She was miles away, parked in a van full of electronic equipment, a ghost in the hotel's digital machine. "You have a ninety-second window before the real footage comes back online. Go."
Julian moved quickly, his heart pounding. This was insane. He was a cop, breaking into the back rooms of a high-security event. But his target was in sight.
Through a small, grated window in a service door, he could see the main security office—not Kian's private hub, but the hotel's own. This was where Nico Ren would be, if Liam Feng's intel was good. This was the nerve center for the hotel's staff and physical security.
He didn't need to get inside. He just needed to create a distraction.
He reached into his utility cart and pulled out a small, custom-made device Marco had sent him from Tokyo. It looked like a power adapter. He plugged it into a service outlet on the wall next to the security office door.
"Device is live," he whispered. "Give it a minute."
The device was a Wi-Fi jammer, low-powered but potent. It wouldn't crash the hotel's main systems, but it would create chaos for any staff relying on wireless tablets or communication devices within a twenty-foot radius. It would force someone from security to come out and investigate the "dead zone."
He retreated back down the corridor, his heart hammering. He had just thrown a rock at a hornet's nest. Now he just had to hope the right hornet came out.
***
Liam felt like an actor on a stage who had forgotten all his lines. He stood near the grand terrace, a glass of untouched champagne in his hand, watching Elara speak with a severe-looking woman he didn't recognize. He knew his role tonight. He was Seraphina's pawn. He was supposed to wait for the signal, for Elara to look distressed, and then he was supposed to play the hero and offer her an escape. An escape that would lead her straight to Seraphina's clutches.
The thought made him sick.
He saw his father in his mind's eye, a frail king on a throne of regret. He saw Seraphina's cold, triumphant smile. He saw Elara's eyes, the haunted look she'd had in the penthouse. He was trapped between them all.
His phone vibrated in his pocket. A coded message. Not from Seraphina. From Julian Zheng.
Distraction started. North service corridor. Draw out Ren if you can.
This was it. His moment to choose a side. To commit. He could ignore the message, follow Seraphina's orders, and perhaps secure his family's future at the cost of Elara's. Or he could betray Seraphina, help the detective, and risk bringing the full wrath of the Huo dynasty down on his head.
He looked across the room at Elara. She looked so strong, so composed, holding her own against the older woman. She wasn't the damsel in distress Seraphina had painted her as. She was a fighter.
He made his choice.
Setting his glass down, he began to walk with purpose, not towards Elara, but towards the edge of the ballroom that led to the staff areas. He spotted Nico Ren near an exit, speaking quietly into his wrist communicator, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd.
Liam intercepted him, forcing a look of mild, upper-class panic onto his face.
"Excuse me," he said, his voice just loud enough to sound urgent. "I think one of my staff just had her purse stolen near the terrace entrance. She's quite distraught."
Nico Ren's eyes, cold and analytical, flicked to Liam. "Describe your staff member, sir."
"Young, blonde, wearing a blue dress," Liam invented quickly. "She said she saw someone, a man in a waiter's uniform, heading towards the north service corridors."
He had just pointed Kian's top security man directly towards Julian's position. He had just thrown himself into the fire.
Nico Ren didn't even blink. He gave a curt nod. "I'll handle it, Mr. Feng."
He turned and moved with that silent, deadly grace towards the very corridor where Julian was waiting. Liam watched him go, his hand trembling slightly. The first dance had begun, and he had just chosen his partner.