Chapter Twenty-Two: An Invite

VOSS ESTATE

The storm had spent itself by dawn, leaving behind a city scrubbed clean but trembling beneath the weight of what it didn’t yet know. The windows of the Voss estate reflected a faint blush of morning, and inside, Amara still hadn’t slept.

The photos glowed faintly on the screen — evidence, leverage, a story waiting to be told. Sienna Cade, the perfect wife, meeting a man her husband had erased from the city. A man who, once upon a time, had been the missing piece between all three of them.

Kaylee stepped into the study quietly, a cup of coffee in hand. She didn’t say anything at first; she just watched Amara, who hadn’t moved in hours.

“You’re still staring at them,” Kaylee murmured.

“I’m memorizing them.”

“Every detail?”

“Every weakness,” Amara corrected, her tone smooth. “Sienna hides behind charm, but she’s careless when she feels safe. Ethan hides behind power, but he mistakes control for foresight. Daniel? He hides because he’s learned the cost of being seen.”

Kaylee handed her the coffee, hesitating before she asked, “What now?”

Amara took a slow sip, her gaze never leaving the screen. “Now we listen. Watch. Every move they make from this point forward tells me who they’re protecting — and who they’re willing to sacrifice.”

Kaylee tilted her head. “You really think Ethan doesn’t know?”

“If he did, Sienna wouldn’t look that free,” Amara said quietly. “She’d be terrified. And she’s not. Not yet.”

The faintest smile curved her lips. “But she will be.”

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CADE ESTATE

By late morning, the rain had thinned to a drizzle. The Cade estate sat high above the city, sunlight slicing through the last of the fog.

Sienna sat at the vanity in their bedroom, perfecting the illusion — hair smooth, pearls clasped, lips painted the right shade of control. She practiced her smile in the mirror, the one Ethan liked best — elegant but not soft. The kind that said wife, not witness.

Behind her, Ethan’s reflection appeared in the glass. Shirt sleeves rolled up, tie discarded, his energy sharp as ever.

“Have you heard from Amara?” he asked.

Sienna’s brush stilled. “Not since the dinner. She’s… difficult to read.”

He moved closer, resting a hand on the back of her chair. “You need to make her trust you.”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder.” His tone left no room for defense. “We can’t afford another unknown in this city. She’s making connections—building her image, gaining investors. If she gets any more traction, it’ll be impossible to corner her.”

Sienna’s throat tightened. “You think she’s doing it deliberately?”

“I think,” Ethan said, his gaze steady in the mirror, “that Amara Voss never does anything by accident.”

She turned, trying to read him. “You don’t think she suspects—”

“I think she knows more than she should,” he interrupted. “And that makes her dangerous.”

Sienna looked down, her voice small but steady. “I can handle her.”

Ethan crouched so that their eyes met. The quiet menace in him was always more frightening than his anger.

“You better,” he said softly. “Because if she turns that brilliance on us, there won’t be enough power in this city to stop her.”

Sienna managed a smile, fragile but convincing. “You said the same thing about Vale.”

“And where is Vale now?”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t have to.

He straightened, kissed her cheek almost tenderly, then left — his phone already pressed to his ear, his mind three moves ahead.

The door closed behind him. Sienna exhaled shakily, the mask slipping just for a second.

She picked up her phone and glanced at a message that had come hours ago — You’re not alone in this. Trust me.

Her fingers hovered over the screen before she locked it again and set it face-down.

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VOSS ESTATE

The afternoon light dripped through the tall glass panes of the Voss estate, slow and deliberate, like time itself was wary of crossing Amara’s path. Her desk was scattered with papers she wasn’t reading, screens she wasn’t watching. The storm from the night before had broken, but inside her, the stillness had only sharpened.

Her phone buzzed once — the sound was sharp in the quiet. Unknown number. But she didn’t need to see it to know.

Sienna Cade.

Amara let it ring twice before answering. Her tone, when she spoke, was all warmth and silk.

“Mrs. Cade. What a surprise.”

“Amara!” Sienna’s voice poured through the line — smooth, honeyed, a little too bright. “It’s been ages, hasn’t it? I was starting to think you’d forgotten all about us.”

Amara’s lips twitched — not a smile, exactly. “Impossible. The Cades are unforgettable.”

Sienna laughed, soft and practiced. “Oh, please. I’ve missed our conversations. You’ve been so quiet lately… how have you been holding up?”

“I’m managing.” Amara turned toward the window, the city stretching before her like a chessboard. “Busy days. Quiet nights. You know how it is.”

“I do,” Sienna said. Then, in a lighter tone: “That’s exactly why I called. You need a break. How about tonight? There’s this new club downtown — private, exclusive. Ethan and I thought you’d love it.”

“Ethan and you?” Amara asked mildly, though her mind was already moving — calculating. They’d been silent too long. The dinner, the tension, the whispers — all of it had gone underground. And now suddenly, an invitation?

“That’s kind of you,” Amara said, leaning back in her chair. “But you know I’m not much for crowds.”

“Oh, come on,” Sienna coaxed, her voice sugar and velvet. “You’ll love it. Music, laughter, no business talk for once.”

Amara let the silence breathe. Just long enough for Sienna to hear the weight of her own words.

What was she playing at?

Then softly — “You’ve always had a way of making trouble sound harmless.”

Sienna laughed again, this time with a nervous edge. “And you’ve always had a way of saying no until you say yes. So? Will you?”

Amara hesitated — deliberately, letting her mind turn over every possibility. If they wanted her out, this would be their move. And if she refused, they’d simply try another way. Better to walk into the lion’s den on her own terms.

“I suppose,” she said finally, “it’s only polite to accept.”

“Perfect,” Sienna said, her relief too quick, too bright. “I’ll text you the address. Let’s say nine?”

“Nine works.”

“Lovely! And, Amara…” Sienna’s voice softened, almost sincere. “It really will be good to see you again.”

Amara smiled faintly at her reflection in the glass — a smile that never reached her eyes. “I’m sure it will.”

The call ended.

For a long moment, the room held its breath. Then Amara set the phone down carefully and pressed her fingers together in thought.

Kaylee appeared in the doorway, expression questioning. “Something’s up?”

“An invitation,” Amara said lightly. “Sienna wants to see me.”

Kaylee frowned. “That doesn’t sound like her.”

“No,” Amara agreed. “It doesn’t.” She looked up, her tone calm, precise. “Have the car ready at eight-thirty. And Kaylee—”

“Yes?”

“If anyone follows me tonight, I want to know before they do.”

Kaylee nodded once and left.

Amara turned back to the window. The city was already dimming, lights flickering on one by one, a thousand quiet watchers waiting for the night to begin.

And somewhere in the reflection, her own smile curved, sharp as glass.

“Let’s see what game they’ve been dying to play.”