Chapter Forty-Six: The Gala Preparation

Adrian found me in my office with the invitation in my hand.

I hadn't told him about it. I hadn't told anyone. Felix had brought it to me that morning, and I'd spent the rest of the day staring at it. Cream envelope. Gold lettering. The same charity gala Julian had attended the year before. The same one where he'd threatened me. The same one where Adrian had played the recording that started everything.

"You're going," he said.

It wasn't a question.

I set the invitation down. "Yes."

"No."

I looked up. He was standing in the doorway. His jaw was tight. His hands were in his pockets. He didn't come inside.

"You don't get to decide that," I said.

"I'm not deciding. I'm telling you it's a bad idea."

"Julian will be there. You know he will."

"Which is exactly why you shouldn't go."

I stood. I walked around my desk. I stopped a few feet from him.

"He threatened me at the last gala," I said. "He stood in front of a hundred people and called me a liar. He tried to humiliate me. And I walked out with my head high."

"I remember."

"This time, I'm not walking out. This time, I'm staying."

Adrian didn't respond. He just looked at me. The same look he'd given me a hundred times. The look that said he knew something I didn't. The look that said he'd been here before. In another life. In another timeline. Watching me make the same choices.

"You want to confront him," he said.

"I want to watch him fall. There's a difference."

"There's no difference. Not to me."

I held his gaze. Neither of us spoke.

"I'm not going to let you put yourself in danger," he said.

"I'm not asking for permission."

"You're not thinking clearly."

"I'm thinking more clearly than I have in years."

He stepped closer. He didn't touch me. He just stood there.

"Julian has nothing left," he said. "He's desperate. He's cornered. He's dangerous. You walk into that room, and he'll see it as an opportunity."

"Good."

"Elena—"

"I want him to see me. I want him to know I'm not afraid. I want him to know that everything that's about to happen—the evidence, the exposure, the arrest—I did it. Me. Not you. Not Felix. Not anyone else."

Adrian was quiet. The city hummed outside. The clock ticked.

"You've been ready for this since the day you died," he said.

"Yes."

"You're not going to change your mind."

"No."

He looked at me. I looked at him.

"Then I'll be there," he said. "Standing next to you."

"I know."

He didn't reach for me. He didn't take my hand. He just nodded.

"Get some sleep," he said. "Tomorrow will be long."

He left.

---

I stayed at my desk. I looked at the invitation. Julian's name was on the guest list. Mine was too. Adrian's was too.

I picked up my phone. I called Felix.

"I need everything on the gala," I said. "Security. Guest list. Seating arrangements. Everything."

"Already on it."

"Good."

I hung up. I opened my laptop. I started working.

---

The next morning, Felix was waiting for me in the conference room.

He had a folder in his hands. He had a look on his face I was starting to recognize.

"What?" I asked.

"The gala. It's in three days. Julian RSVP'd yesterday."

"Good."

"There's something else."

"What?"

"Henry Ashford will be there. He's out on bail. His lawyers arranged it."

I sat down. I folded my hands on the table.

"Henry will be there," I said.

"Yes."

"With Julian."

"Yes."

"Then we have both of them in the same room."

Felix nodded. He didn't look happy.

"That's dangerous," he said.

"It's an opportunity."

"It's a risk."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"I've been taking risks since the day I died," I said. "This is no different."

---

That afternoon, I met with Sloane.

She was in the gym. She was training. She didn't stop when I entered.

"The gala," I said.

"I heard."

"I need you to coordinate security. Every exit. Every entrance. Every camera."

"Already done."

"Julian will try something. He always does."

Sloane stopped. She looked at me.

"Let him try," she said. "I'll be ready."

I nodded. I left.

---

That evening, I found Daniel in the living room.

He was sitting on the couch. He was staring at the television. It wasn't on.

"You okay?" I asked.

He looked up. He looked tired. He always looked tired now.

"No."

I sat beside him.

"I keep thinking about what he'll say. Julian. When we expose him. When everyone knows what he did."

"What do you think he'll say?"

"Nothing. He'll deny it. He'll blame someone else. He'll try to run."

"He won't get far."

Daniel looked at me. He looked at me the way he used to when we were children.

"You're different," he said.

"Different how?"

"Stronger. Calmer. Like you already know how it ends."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

"I'm not calm," I said. "I'm just tired of being afraid."

He nodded. He didn't ask anything else.

---

That night, I couldn't sleep.

I lay in bed. I stared at the ceiling. I thought about the gala. I thought about Julian. I thought about Henry. I thought about everything that was coming.

I got up. I walked to the living room. Adrian was already there. He was sitting on the couch. He wasn't reading. He wasn't working. He was just sitting.

"You too?" I asked.

He looked up. "What?"

"Can't sleep."

He didn't answer. He just moved over. I sat beside him.

We didn't speak. The city hummed. The clock ticked. I could hear his breathing. Slow. Steady.

After a while, I said, "I used to think I'd feel different."

"About what?"

"About tomorrow. About confronting him. About watching him fall."

"And?"

"I don't feel different. I feel the same. Tired. Angry. Ready."

He looked at me. He didn't say anything.

"What about you?" I asked. "What do you feel?"

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Relieved."

"Relieved?"

"Because it's almost over. Because after tomorrow, we don't have to look over our shoulders anymore. Because we can finally live."

I considered that. "You think we'll be able to live? After everything?"

"I think we have to try."

We sat there. The city hummed. The clock ticked.

After a while, he said, "I used to think revenge was the only thing that mattered. I used to think that if I could just destroy the people who hurt my father, everything would be better."

"And?"

"And then I met you. And I realized revenge isn't enough. It's just a starting point."

I looked at him. He looked at me.

"A starting point for what?" I asked.

"For something else. Something better."

I didn't respond. I didn't know how.

We sat there. The sky outside started to lighten. Gray. Then pink. Then gold.

"Tomorrow," I said.

"Tomorrow," he said.

Neither of us moved.