[…monitoring your microsecond transaction anomalies this afternoon.]
Elara’s heart seemed to stop beating for one full second. The thick paper, scented with silver ink, nearly slipped from her suddenly cold fingers.
Someone knew about her High-Frequency Trading activity. They had not merely noticed where her money was moving—the sender of this letter had even managed to connect the stock market anomaly from that afternoon to Vanguard Trust, the name of a shell company that had been less than twenty-four hours old. Even more terrifying, they had found the physical location of Elara’s home and sent this invitation directly to her.
“System,” Elara whispered, her voice trembling as she held back the panic surging in her chest. “Was there any physical tracking trace when you gathered the liquidity earlier?”
[Negative. All IP addresses were bounced through forty anonymous servers across various continents. Probability analysis: The Host’s identity was not digitally hacked. It was deduced through advanced financial behavior pattern analysis by a human analyst.]
Elara clenched her jaw. She had relied too heavily on machine technology and forgotten the deadliest variable in Metropolis: human intuition. There was a monster out there whose analytical mind could read the pattern of money transfers involving tens of millions of dollars amid a sea of global data, then deduce that the money was headed toward the auction floor of Obsidian Lounge.
Yet instead of surrendering to fear, Elara’s lips slowly curved upward, forming a smile that was ice-cold and razor-sharp.
The sender of this letter had not blocked her access. They had given her a VIP invitation instead. That meant that, in the eyes of the mysterious sender, Vanguard Trust was considered a worthy challenger—a fascinating new piece to play on the chessboard of the black market.
“All right,” Elara murmured as she walked toward her vanity. She lit a silver-fueled lighter and burned the calligraphed letter to ash over a crystal ashtray. “If they want a show, I’ll give them a nightmare.”
Saturday morning began with a nauseatingly sweet charade.
When Elara went downstairs to the dining room for breakfast, she was greeted by a gigantic bouquet of white lilies placed right in the center of the table. Adrian sat there, sipping his espresso like a victorious man, while Clara gazed at the flowers with a restrained smile that hinted at mockery.
“Good morning, darling,” Adrian greeted her in his gentle baritone. He rose, approached Elara, and kissed the woman’s forehead with perfectly feigned warmth. “These flowers are for you. As a token of my gratitude for entrusting your mother’s guardianship matters to me. I had the documents processed by the law firm this morning.”
Elara lowered her head slightly, hiding the cruel glint in her eyes, then looked at Adrian with an expression full of emotion. “Thank you, Adrian. You’re really working too hard. These flowers are beautiful. White lilies… my favorite.”
Clara elegantly sipped her chamomile tea. “Of course Adrian is working hard, Sis. He’s carrying a huge responsibility for the future of our family’s shares now. By the way, Adrian told me he plans to divert part of Aunt Helena’s share dividends to fund the Sterling-Tech project next month.”
Hearing that, Elara nearly laughed out loud inside. The Sterling-Tech project. In her past life, it had been a financial black hole—a scam by an overseas vendor that ultimately caused Sterling Corporation to lose millions of dollars. Adrian and Clara planned to use the money from Elara’s mother’s shares to cover the project’s risks.
Oh, Adrian. You’re digging your own grave with the shovel I gave you, Elara thought. According to the Vanguard Trust documents Elara had manipulated, Adrian had absolutely no right to withdraw those dividends. But let the man dream. Let him sign major contracts with that fraudulent vendor, and when the bills came due, Adrian would not be able to withdraw a single cent from his mother’s trust.
“That’s a brilliant idea, Adrian,” Elara praised him in an utterly sincere tone, taking one of the lilies and twirling it between her fingers. “I don’t understand technology at all, but if you’re leading the project, I’m sure Dad will be very proud. Isn’t that right, Clara?”
“Of course,” Clara replied with a crooked smile, feeling that she had successfully fooled her stepsister, whom she considered nothing more than a porcelain ornament.
The charade continued until noon. Elara kept feeding Adrian’s ego with empty praise, making sure the man walked out of the Sterling family home with the absolute conviction that the world was already in the palm of his hand.
When the house fell quiet again that afternoon, Elara immediately locked herself in her room. The time for playing with little pieces was over. Tonight, she would face real predators.
At eight that evening, drizzle fell over Metropolis once again.
Elara stood before a full-length mirror. Her black silk evening gown hugged her curves with dangerous elegance. The high slit on the right side allowed her legs to move freely, while a pair of specially designed stiletto heels concealed small titanium blades in their soles.
She wore black velvet gloves that reached to her elbows, ensuring that none of her fingerprints would be left on any surface that night. As a final step, Elara fastened a black fascinator veil over half her face, from her forehead to the tip of her nose. The intricate mesh pattern had been woven with carbon-fiber thread that would passively refract the light from any facial-recognition camera. The blue glow of the Absolute System in her eyes was perfectly concealed behind the veil’s shadows.
“System, deactivate all GPS trackers on my phone. Route communications through anonymous satellites,” Elara ordered, slipping a portable EMP signal jammer no larger than a lipstick into her handbag. She would not depend entirely on digital technology; human instinct always required a mechanical backup plan.
Elara left the Sterling residence through a side door, avoiding the gaze of her own home’s security cameras, then climbed into a premium taxi she had booked under the identity of Vanguard Trust.
“Where to, miss?” the taxi driver asked.
“Metropolis Opera House. South cargo entrance,” Elara replied flatly.
Obsidian Lounge never had a permanent address. The billionaires’ black market was always on the move, hiding beneath grand, legitimate events. Tonight, the center of dirty-money circulation was concealed in the basement of the Opera House, directly beneath the feet of art lovers listening to a Mozart symphony upstairs.
Thirty minutes later, the taxi stopped in a narrow, dark, damp alley behind the Opera House.
Elara stepped out, her heels clicking sharply against the wet asphalt. The air in the alley was cold and smelled of rusted metal. At the end of the alley, an old iron door that looked like a garbage chute was guarded by two enormous men in immaculate black suits. No weapons were visible, but their postures screamed ex-special-forces.
Elara’s heart beat faster, but her steps did not falter in the slightest. She approached the door with an air of dominance that seemed to make the surrounding air grow heavier.
The two guards stepped forward, blocking her path. One of them, with a scar running across his eyebrow, stared at Elara from behind his sunglasses.
“The symphony event is through the front entrance, miss. This area is off-limits,” the guard said in a deep, threatening baritone.
Without saying a word, Elara slowly reached into her handbag. She took out a black envelope bearing a one-eyed wax seal and handed it to the guard.
The guard’s eyes widened slightly behind his glasses when he saw the emblem. He accepted the envelope, pulled out a gold-edged invitation card, then drew a small red-lensed biometric scanner from the inside pocket of his suit.
“Please face the scanner,” he ordered flatly.
Elara raised her chin, allowing the scanner’s red light to sweep across her face behind the mesh veil. In her mind, the Absolute System worked at lightning speed, firing a response code through infrared reflections that hacked directly into the scanner, forging security clearance for the Vanguard Trust identity.
The scanner emitted a soft beep. However, its small screen did not turn green as it should have.
The screen flickered, emitting a dazzling bright red light.
Both guards instantly tensed. Their hands moved in unison beneath their jackets, gripping the handles of their tactical firearms.
The scarred guard stared at Elara with murderous intent. “I’m sorry, miss. This invitation under the name Vanguard Trust has been]