Chapter Ten: When The Clock Starts

The gala still pulsed behind her when Amara slipped out the side doors.

Cool night air licked against the heat of champagne and chandeliers, carrying the distant hum of traffic and the metallic scent of rain. She didn’t glance back. A queen never checks whether her court is watching—she knows.

But she heard them. The hush that followed her exit. The sudden swell of whispers.

Who was she?

Did you see that gown?

Voss… never heard of her family.

Good. Let them chew on the name until it splinters their perfect teeth.

A black sedan waited at the curb. The driver, broad-shouldered and silent, opened the rear door. Amara slid in, skirts whispering across the leather. As the car pulled away, the mirrored windows of the Cade estate caught her reflection: a woman carved from shadow and moonlight, lips curved in a secret no one could guess.

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The Cades’ Residence – Midnight

Sienna kicked off her heels the second the doors closed, fury sparking beneath her diamond-cool facade.

“Who is that woman?” she demanded, pacing across the marble foyer. The echo of her steps was sharp enough to cut. “Amara Voss. I checked the guest list twice, she wasn’t on it.”

Ethan loosened his tie, watching her with a predator’s stillness. “New money, maybe. Or old money hiding behind a new name.” He poured two fingers of whiskey, took a thoughtful sip. “Either way, she made you nervous.”

Sienna shot him a look. “She didn’t make me nervous. She… unsettled the room.”

“She unsettled you,” he said, amused.

She ignored the jab. “Her dress, her jewelry, none of it screamed subtle. But it wasn’t gaudy either. Like she wanted us to wonder if we’d missed some hidden dynasty.”

Her mind replayed every flicker of that meeting: the smoky voice, the eyes that lingered half a beat too long. That smile.

“She carries herself like someone who’s never heard the word no.”

Ethan’s gaze sharpened. “I want her background on my desk by morning. I already told Kellan to start digging the moment I saw her. But tell me again, word for word, what she said to you.”

Sienna recited the conversation, each phrase precise. Ethan listened without interrupting, a faint frown etching deeper as she spoke.

“No slip, no detail we can use,” he concluded. “Smart.”

“She’s hiding something,” Sienna murmured.

He set down his glass with a soft click. “Everyone’s hiding something. But this one knows how to weaponize it.”

He leaned closer, voice a low rumble. “We’ll find her cracks. Everyone has them.”

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The Voss Estate

Miles away, Amara’s world unfolded like a secret kingdom.

The estate sprawled across the hillside—a modern fortress of dark stone and glass. Motion lights flared along the drive as the sedan rolled to a stop beneath an arched portico. Two armed sentries stepped forward, rifles angled in casual warning until they recognized the car. They bowed slightly as she passed.

Inside, silence reigned. Not the emptiness of neglect, but the curated quiet of wealth: thick rugs swallowing footsteps, art worth fortunes lit by discreet sconces, the faint hum of hidden security systems.

Kaylee was waiting in the atrium, tablet in hand, posture deceptively relaxed. Chestnut hair swept into a knot, black trousers, eyes that missed nothing. Damien’s hand-picked shadow.

“Well?” Kaylee asked, voice a blend of curiosity and dry amusement. “Did you dazzle or detonate?”

Amara slid out of her coat and into the glow of a pendant light. “Both,” she said. “Every tongue in that room will wag itself raw before dawn.”

A flicker of admiration crossed Kaylee’s face. “I watched the feeds. Even the caterers were staring. Cade’s security flagged you within ten minutes.”

“Good,” Amara replied. “They’ll have their men dig into Amara Voss before their coffee cools. And they’ll find exactly what Damien paid for them to find: nothing.”

Kaylee arched a brow. “You sound almost impressed with him.”

Amara walked toward the floor-to-ceiling windows. Beyond the glass, the estate’s private lake mirrored the stars. “I’m curious, not impressed. Damien built a paper trail airtight enough to fool Ethan Cade’s resources. That takes… connections.”

“You still don’t trust him.”

“I don’t trust anyone,” Amara said, turning back. “Including you.”

Kaylee accepted the barb without flinching. “Fair. But if I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have flown halfway across the world to babysit.”

“Noted,” Amara said coolly.

Kaylee followed her into the lounge, the quiet click of her boots the only sound. “So. Cade and his wife...how did they bite?”

Amara allowed herself a thin smile. “Hooked. Ethan watched me like a hawk. Sienna pretended she wasn’t rattled, but her hand tightened on the glass every time I smiled.”

Kaylee tapped the tablet. “Then we wait?”

“For now,” Amara murmured. She reached for a crystal decanter, pouring a measure of blood-dark wine. “They’ll come sniffing. That’s when we see what they fear most.”

Kaylee leaned against the doorframe. “And Damien? He’ll want a report.”

Amara’s gaze drifted to the far hallway—the one door she’d never opened, the wing Damien claimed was “off-limits until you’re ready.” His words echoed from their first meeting in Italy: When the time is right, you’ll understand.

“Damien will get his report when I decide,” she said. “Not a moment sooner.”

For a heartbeat the house seemed to exhale—an almost imperceptible shift in the air, like a held breath released.

Kaylee straightened. “Did you feel that?”

Amara set her glass down, every sense sharpening. A distant creak. The whisper of movement along the upper balcony. Security should have cleared the perimeter twice by now.

She crossed to the console, checked the live feeds. All cameras online. Nothing out of place. And yet...

A soft ping broke the silence. Not from the console. From her phone.

Unknown number.

A single message: “Nice performance tonight. We should talk.”

No signature. No location tag. Only those eight words.

Kaylee’s eyes narrowed. “Friend of yours?”

Amara stared at the screen, the faintest curl of a smile playing at her lips. “Not yet.”

The phone buzzed again.

“Tell Damien the clock just started.”

Her pulse quickened, but her voice stayed velvet-smooth. “Kaylee, lock down the estate. Full perimeter sweep. Now.”

Kaylee moved without question, barking quiet orders into her earpiece.

Amara stood alone in the hush, the phone still glowing in her hand. Outside, the lake reflected a perfect moon—unbroken, but only until the first ripple.

She whispered to the empty room, a promise more than a threat.

“Let’s play.”