Location: Tavara, Damien's Private Lounge — Montclare Gala
The velvet-lined lounge was a world apart from the glitz outside. Soundproofed walls muffled the string quartet's music, offering Damien and his inner circle a brief pocket of strategy amid the social battlefield.
Micah closed the door behind him, his face grave. "I tapped the internal comms. There's more going on tonight than we thought."
Damien removed his jacket and sat on the edge of the leather couch, his sleeves rolled just enough to reveal the Blackthorn heirloom watch on his wrist — a quiet symbol of control. "Talk."
Micah flicked open his tablet, displaying a heatmap of the gala floor. "We've confirmed at least four different entities converging here tonight. Kane remnants, yes — but also affiliates from the Delacroix network and a few Goldwyn advisors. They've been whispering your name in rooms you don't even know exist yet."
Damien's eyes narrowed. "They're testing the perimeter. Seeing if I've gone soft."
"Or," Nora interjected, "they're trying to lure you into the open. Make you react emotionally."
She stood across from them, arms crossed, the soft fabric of her gown now layered under a black velvet shawl. Her eyes were sharp, focused. Gone was the charming socialite; in her place stood the strategist — the partner Damien needed tonight.
"Have they made contact with anyone close to us?" she asked.
Micah shook his head. "No. But someone approached Elise."
Damien stilled.
Elise Blackthorn — Damien's youngest cousin — had kept a low profile for years after stepping back from the family business. If she'd been pulled into this, it meant the rival factions were shifting their attacks from business warfare to personal vulnerabilities.
"Is she safe?" Damien's voice was like iron cooling in water.
"She's smart. She declined the invite and left Tavara a week ago. She sent me this." Micah handed over a folded note.
Damien opened it slowly. The handwriting was rushed but legible.
> They're looking for pressure points. Be careful who you trust — even among the old allies. The name 'Arden Vos' came up in one of their meetings. Protect Nora. They're watching her more than you.
— Elise.
Nora went pale, but her resolve didn't falter. "I want full surveillance on my team. Double-check their backgrounds. No mistakes."
Damien looked at her for a long second. The storm in his chest had been simmering since Victoria's mention of Victor Kane — an identity that did not belong here — and now it began to boil.
He rose to his feet. "Call Julian. I want a deep dive on Arden Vos — background, alliances, financials, tech trails, everything. We're sealing every leak in our networks starting tonight."
Micah nodded, already typing.
Damien turned to Nora. "You shouldn't be out there right now. Let me handle the floor."
She arched a brow. "We're not doing that again, Damien. I'm your partner, not a princess in a tower."
He studied her, then gave a faint smile. "Alright. But stay close. No one leaves alone. No one moves without my word."
As they stepped out of the lounge together, Damien could feel the storm building beyond the marble floors and chandeliers. The enemy was circling.
But they had underestimated him. And worse — they had underestimated her.
This war wasn't about power anymore.
It was personal.