Chapter 995
The shutters were still down. Julian tapped a command on his own console and they groaned upward — he had a back door into the security system that even Liam didn’t know about.
“Vance Manor,” Skye said as they accelerated out into daylight, leaving a bewildered Liam standing alone in the garage. “Specifically, the old sanitarium wing.”
Julian coughed — a wet, rattling sound. “You figured it out.”
“Liam’s dossier came from your estate,” Skye said. “You sent it to him, didn’t you? You knew he’d panic and try to stop me.”
“I had to,” Julian admitted, his voice barely audible above the hum of the engine. “I leaked the ambush location to Liam deliberately, because I knew you wouldn’t listen to me. I needed him to be the obstacle. But the situation is more complicated than you think.”
“Why use Liam? Why not just tell me?”
“Because the Administrator is actively hunting me,” Julian said, his eyes darkening. “He has compromised my internal servers. I can’t communicate with you directly without him knowing. Using Liam as a proxy was the only way to warn you without triggering a kill order on myself. I’m playing a double game, Skye. And I’m losing.”
P𝘰𝗽𝘶𝘭𝖺𝘳 ѕ𝗍𝗼ries 𝗈𝗇 𝗴𝘢𝗹ոo𝘷𝘦𝗹ѕ.𝖼о𝘮
They arrived at the Vance Estate — a gothic monstrosity of stone and ivy. Julian directed the driver around to the back, toward a separate building that looked like a prison hospital.
Skye moved through the entrance quickly. The air smelled of bleach and decay.
At the end of the hall, they entered a room that had been converted into a command center — monitors, maps, stacked files. A hospital bed occupied the far corner.
The bed was empty. But the sheets were rumpled and thrown back.
Skye crossed to it and pressed her palm flat against the mattress.
It was warm.
“He was just here,” she whispered.
On the bedside table sat a glass of water, condensation still beading on the outside. And beside it, a single playing card.
The Queen of Spades.
Someone had drawn a red slash across the Queen’s throat.
“A threat,” Alistair noted.
“No,” Skye said, picking up the card. “An invitation.”
The invitation was clear, but the venue wasn’t on the card. It was on the monitors left running in the room.
A live feed of a charity gala. The Sterling Foundation Inaugural Ball.
“He’s mocking me,” Skye said, watching the screen. “He’s holding a victory party while I’m chasing ghosts.”
“Where is this?” Alistair asked.
“The Crystal Gardens.” Skye recognized the venue immediately. “Neutral ground downtown. High security, glass walls. Very public.”
“Look at the feed,” Julian said, pointing. “Gemma is there. Or rather, her digital ghost is.”
On the screen, Gemma was not mingling with the crowd. She was projected onto a massive display above the stage, beaming down at the donors like a benevolent deity. The caption read: Live from Secure Location — for her protection.
“She’s not physically at the gala,” Skye said. “She’s hiding somewhere safe — likely another Ouroboros safe house — while the Foundation collects money in her name. But the donors are real, and they’re right there in that ballroom.”
.
.