Chaos rippled through the ballroom like a thunderclap. Glass shattered. Screams echoed against the marble pillars as guests trampled one another in panic. The woman's body lay sprawled near the grand staircase, her mask soaked in blood.
Jade froze for only a second—but in that second, the masked man vanished.
Kelz's voice crackled in her earpiece, breathless. "Jade, where are you? I heard the scream—"
"On the second floor. Someone else is here, someone who knew me."
"Pull out. Now."
"No," she snapped. "Not without answers."
She ducked behind the velvet drapes, pulling a knife from her clutch. Her mask pressed tight to her face, sweat beading beneath it. Below, security began sealing exits. The De-Light family knew how to contain blood. They'd done it before.
Mira's voice returned, low and tense. "That wasn't one of our moves. Whoever killed that woman—they weren't here for the gala. They were here for you."
Jade's breath caught. "What?"
"Check your six. Now."
She spun—just in time. The blade grazed her cheek. A whisper of steel. Her attacker moved like shadow, fast and silent. Another masked figure, dressed in all black. No emblem. No mark.
She kicked out, catching the attacker in the ribs. He stumbled—then vanished into the stairwell.
Jade bolted after him.
Kelz intercepted her near the gallery wing. "What are you doing?" he hissed, grabbing her wrist. "You should've been gone!"
"There's another player in this game," she panted. "Someone who wants me dead."
They backed into the portrait hall, walls lined with oil paintings of the De-Light family—generations of arrogance captured in oil and gold. At the far end hung the largest: Laurenz De-Light, father of the three monsters.
Kelz stared at it for a long second.
"I think I know who it is," he said quietly.
"What?"
"I think someone else is hunting them, Jade. And they don't care who gets caught in the fire."
Sirens wailed outside. The police had arrived. But inside these walls, justice wore no badge.
Only a mask.
And blood.
—