The Obsidian House felt different after the investor left.
Not empty.
Exposed.
Rain hammered harder against the glass, as if the city itself was warning them. Neon lights flickered below, unstable, nervous.
Kael stood near the window, his back to Elaris. One hand rested on the glass, fingers spread, knuckles pale.
Silence stretched.
Elaris broke it first."You don't trust him."
Kael let out a quiet breath. Almost a laugh."I don't trust anyone who smiles while holding a knife behind their back."
She stepped closer. Not touching him. Not yet."But we still need him."
Kael turned.
His eyes were dark now. No charm. No teasing. Just truth.
"No," he said. "You need his information. He needs your desperation."
That hit.
Elaris stiffened. "Careful."
Kael took a step closer."I am careful," he said. "That's why I'm saying this."
Their faces were inches apart. The air between them felt charged, tight enough to snap.
"You walk into Crimson Coast without rules," Kael continued, voice low, controlled, "and you won't come back the same. If you come back at all."
Elaris met his gaze."I don't have a choice."
Kael's jaw clenched. "You always have a choice."
She laughed softly — bitter."Tell that to someone whose family isn't being held like currency."
That stopped him.
For a second, the mask cracked.
Kael looked away.
When he spoke again, his voice was steadier, colder."Fine. We go."
Elaris's chest tightened."But—"
"There are conditions," Kael said sharply.
He turned back to the table, flicking his wrist. A holo-map of the Crimson Coast bloomed into the air — red zones pulsing like open wounds.
"My conditions."
He pointed to the map."You don't move alone. Ever."
Elaris opened her mouth.
Kael cut her off."You don't make side deals. You don't disappear. And you don't trust anyone wearing a smile."
He looked straight at her."Especially not me."
That surprised her.
Her brow furrowed. "You?"
Kael stepped closer again."I'm not a hero, Elaris. If you forget that, you'll die."
Their eyes locked.
Something dangerous passed between them — not fear, not attraction alone.
Recognition.
Elaris nodded once."Agreed."
Kael tapped the table again."One more thing."
The map zoomed in — a floating palace over black water.
Masquerade symbols flashed.
"There's an event," he said. "Invite-only. Masks required. Syndicate heads, tech brokers, killers dressed as royalty."
He glanced at her."That's where your item will surface."
Elaris exhaled slowly."A masquerade."
Kael smirked faintly. "Fitting."
Her wristband pulsed.
A private signal.
Xyren.
His voice slid into her ear, calm but urgent."You're being watched. Multiple layers. The investor didn't leave empty-handed."
Elaris didn't react outwardly.
Kael noticed anyway.
"Your ghost again?" he murmured.
She hesitated — then nodded.
Kael's eyes sharpened."Good. I like knowing where the other knives are."
Thunder cracked outside, loud enough to shake the glass.
Kael straightened his coat."We leave in forty-eight hours."
Elaris turned toward the window. The city stretched endlessly below — beautiful, brutal, alive.
Crimson Coast waited somewhere beyond the storm.
"So this is it," she said quietly. "The line we don't come back from."
Kael stood beside her, close enough that she could feel his warmth.
"There's always a way back," he said."You just won't recognize yourself."
She looked at him then.
"And you?"
A pause.
Kael's reflection stared back at him from the glass — broken wing mark hidden beneath tailored power.
"I crossed that line a long time ago."
Silence fell again.
Not empty this time.
Heavy.
Somewhere far away, preparations began. Invitations sent. Masks polished. Weapons loaded.
And deep beneath the Crimson Coast, something old stirred — patient, watching, waiting.
The game had rules now.
But rules were made to be broken.