Chapter 11 The First Strike

The gala began like all expensive betrayals do-dressed in gold, cloaked in laughter, hiding war behind wine. Ava wore midnight blue. Slit at the thigh. Backless. No necklace, no distractions. Only a thin wire coiled around her earpiece, tucked beneath a perfect wave of dark hair. The dress code read "opulence." But her energy said "execution." Vict