"Yes," I say and open my door before he can protest. "Let's go."
I step into the cold November air. The chill cuts through my sweater instantly, but I don't pause. Octavian is already out and moving around the car to catch up with me.
We walk side by side toward the estate's main entrance. Lights glow in the windows, warm and familiar. I used to love this house. These days it feels more like I'm reporting for duty.
One of the staff must've seen us coming because the door swings open before we can knock.
We head down the hall and into the office where Callum and Declan are sitting in chairs talking. They look up when we walk in.
"So... what the hell," I say, looking at my twin. "I thought I was going to go with you."
Callum leans forward, elbows on his knees. "It was too risky, clearly, but Declan said you were on the phone with him."
"Yeah, he told me, 'The Phantom King was coming. Feathers will find me soon,' blah blah blah, and then he shot himself."
Declan curses under his breath.
"Blah blah blah?" Callum asks, his tone sharp.
"I told you what he said." I cross my arms.
"So what now?" Declan asks, sitting back in his chair. "We can't just wait for the next message."
"I have an idea," I say and pull out the invitation, stepping forward to place it on the table between them.
"We go to this."
Callum leans forward, picking it up with two fingers like it might be contaminated. His jaw tightens as he reads. "What the hell is this?"
"It's an invitation for this year's Shadowharbor gala. Their biggest."
Callum's expression darkens immediately. He drops the invitation back onto the table. "Absolutely not."
"Callum. Their biggest of the year," I say. "All their donors. Politicians. Billionaires. Anyone who matters will be there."
"Which is exactly why you're not going," Callum says. "It'll be crawling with people we can't control."
"That's exactly why I am going," I counter, stepping closer. "This is what it's all been building toward. These attacks, the feathers, the name-dropping. They're trying to scare me away. I'm going to show up in a floor-length gown and make them wish they hadn't."
"No," Callum says flatly. "End of story."
"Yes, I am."
"Keira, for fuck's sake."
"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" I point to the invitation. "You wanted me to use my foundation contacts, to charm people, to get information. Well, this is it. This is the moment. Everyone connected to Shadowharbor will be there. Board members, donors, investors, people who know what the hell is going on."
"It's too dangerous," Callum says.
"Everything is too dangerous right now!" My voice rises. "Someone bombed my event. Someone killed Bridget. Someone tried to kill me. And now you want me to sit here and do nothing while they close in?"
Callum's jaw ticks, and he rubs his chin in frustration. "You're not going to that gala, Keira. End of discussion."
"It's not your decision."
"Like hell it isn't."
Declan shifts in his seat. "She has a point, Callum."
