Elias stood at his cluttered workbench, surrounded by baubles and gadgets that hummed and whizzed invitingly. He brooded over the obviously broken flywheel, hands coated in grease that smeared across his waistcoat as he focused intensely on the stubborn mechanism. With quiet desperation, he strained to force it back into alignment, trying to mold it precisely into place.

  Sara entered, instantly assaulted by the sharp, pungent scent of grease and heated metal, instinctively lifting her sleeve to shield her nose. Her gaze quickly assessed the chaotic mess of Elias’s workspace.

  "Son, your aunt will be here any minute! Why are you still covered in grit? Tonight’s an important dinner—you know how my sister can be," she sighed, shaking her head at her son’s relentless curiosity. "Dom wants tonight to go smoothly for all our sakes."

  Elias nodded absently, his thoughts consumed by worries—the internship and his uncertain future, the noble threatening to tear his family apart, and Nyx. The enigmatic girl occupied his mind more than he wanted to admit. He had never felt so drawn to something—or someone—so clearly dangerous.

  "I’ll be down in a minute, Mom," he assured her without looking up. "Aunt Lara can wait. It's not like she's ever shown much affection for me."

  Sara paused at the doorway, stepping carefully around the scattered tools and oil-stained rags. "Alright, but hurry please," she urged gently, adding firmly, "And clean up those tools!"

  Her voice echoed faintly from the kitchen as she departed.

  In the dining room, Lara sat poised in her luxurious fur coat, every movement deliberate and refined. "You know, Sara," she began, carefully placing her delicate china cup on the table, "I understand why you married Dominic and put up with his...eccentricities. Even I remain grateful for what he did when we were younger. But couldn’t you at least ask him to act according to his station?"

  Sara’s eyes flashed with irritation. She swirled her tea sharply with a silver spoon, spilling a small splash onto the pristine tablecloth. "Well, sister, not all of us wished our husbands would become loyal lapdogs of the Court. But truly," she added dryly, "I’m thrilled our lives have both turned out exactly as we wished."

  Lara chuckled softly, savoring her sister’s evident displeasure. "We all have our burdens, dear sister."

  At that moment, Dom walked in, breaking the tension as he moved first to kiss Sara, then warmly embrace Lara. "Lara, so glad you could make it. I know how Senator Hugsby keeps you busy."

  She nodded gracefully, a cool but polite smile on her lips. "Indeed. My husband remains busier than most wives I know. Of course, I have you to thank for our introduction."

  Dom’s expression quickly turned serious. "Actually, Lara, there's troubling news I need to discuss. Marcus informed me that the noble who once ran your orphanage has resurfaced."

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Sara and Lara exchanged a startled glance, their faces paling instantly.

  "That's impossible," Sara started sharply, but was interrupted by Elias entering, freshly changed yet visibly uneasy.

  Dom regarded him with dry humor, noting everyone's strained expressions. "Quite the dramatic entrance, son."

  Elias rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, attempting to ease the tension. "Uh, hi Aunt Lara. How goes high society?"

  Lara looked at him, a mix of disdain and reluctant affection flickering in her eyes. "My only nephew desperately needs lessons in manners. At least you inherited some talent," she remarked, casting a pointed glance toward Sara.

  Sara’s voice hardened protectively. "Lara, leave my son alone. He already has enough critics."

  With an elegant raise of an eyebrow, Lara simply sipped her tea, letting a tense silence settle once again.

  Sara, still shaken by Dom’s revelation, didn’t even flinch at her sister’s jab. "Dinner should be ready. I’ll go get it," she said, voice low, eyes fixed straight ahead. Elias watched her go, wondering just how deep that old wound went.

  Elias looked at Dom. "What did you say this time?"

  Dom rubbed the back of his neck. "Let’s eat. You and I will talk about ghosts after dinner."

  The dinner passed quickly. The food was good, but the usually lively home was steeped in an aura of unease. Lara masked her tension with biting comments, mostly aimed at Elias’s lack of etiquette. As soon as the dessert plates were cleared, Dom gave a subtle tilt of his head toward the small study. Elias picked up on the cue.

  The study was dusty and chaotic, filled with papers, old case notes, and a few relics Dom never got around to cataloging. Sara was always trying to get him to clean it, but Dom liked the mess. It was his thinking room.

  Dom sat across from Elias in his old red-buttoned chair, his frame heavy in the firelight.

  "Elias, you know I love you. I love your mother. Even your aunt. My family… that’s what matters, right?"

  Elias nodded. "Yeah. We love you too."

  Dom clenched his hands together, leaning forward.

  "You know how that noble is blackmailing us—what Marcus told you. That man shouldn’t exist. I watched him die a long time ago."

  Elias blinked, confusion settling into his chest. "What? How does that make sense?"

  Dom’s face darkened in the flickering glow. "He was pure evil. He ran the orphanage your mom and aunt grew up in. He tortured them. Abused his power. He was high in the Court—higher than I ever was. But none of that matters now. All you need to know is... he shouldn’t exist."

  Elias stared into the fire. "Then who is it? Who’s doing this?"

  Dom shook his head. "I don’t know. And I’m too tired to figure it out tonight."

  He rose, slowly. "It’s getting late. Your aunt will need an escort. Can I count on you, son?"

  Elias stood as well. "Yeah. I got it."

  Outside, Lara was fixing her gloves as the night air wrapped around them.

  "So you’re my escort? How sweet," she said, her voice lighter than usual.

  They took the quiet route to the High Quarters, passing Vera’s home. Elias couldn’t help but stare. All the houses here were grand—tall spires, ivy-wrapped columns, glowing walkways. Nothing like the Wolfe house. Their home stood at the edge of two worlds, straddling the line between nobility and honesty.

  He liked the humility of where he came from. And despite her sharp tongue, Lara respected him for it—even if she'd never say so.

  When they reached the Hugsby estate, a sprawling mansion nestled beside a large, wooded park, Lara gave him a genuine smile.

  "Thank you, Elias. I’ll see you soon." She hugged him. He hugged back.

  As she stepped through the towering gates, Elias turned—and then froze.

  There, beneath a shaft of moonlight filtering through the pines—stood Nyx.

  A flash of motion. A grin in the dark.

  Elias gave chase.

  Branches scraped his arms as he tore through the forest. The trees here were ancient, towering up toward the false moonlight that glowed over the city dome. The wall loomed ahead—tall, metallic, humming with hidden energy. The divide between High and Low.

  Nyx moved like a shadow, but Elias was faster than she expected.

  He caught up at the edge of the wall, gasping for breath.

  "What are you doing here? Not stealing from my aunt, are you?"

  Nyx laughed. "If I wanted anything from that old bird, you wouldn’t have even seen me."

  She stepped closer.

  "I’m here to talk to you, Hero."

  Elias blinked, unsure if he’d heard her right.

  Nyx brushed close, slipping something into his hand. Her cheek grazed his for the briefest moment.

  "Took this off your dad a while ago," she whispered.

  Elias unfolded the paper, still catching his breath. The handwriting was familiar. Dom’s.

  His eyes flicked across the words.

  His throat tightened.

  ...Dad. what aren’t you telling me?

  you think the note says? Do you trust Dom? Or is Nyx onto something deeper than even she realizes?