I needed to speak to Noah.
I slipped through the side archway, away from the band’s loud set, and the music immediately dulled. The scent of truffle and champagne gave way to the cool night air and the faint smell of eucalyptus drifting in from the vineyards.
I followed the path past the rose bushes, the fairy lights overhead leading me further from the noise of the festivities.
The chatter, clinking glasses and occasional burst of laughter faded into the background until it felt like I’d stepped into a different world entirely.
And there he was.
Noah leaned against one of the old stone pillars near the side garden, half-hidden behind a vine-draped trellis. His suit jacket hung over one arm, hair a little mussed like he’d run his hand through it more than once. He was looking out over the dark rows of vines like they were calling him home.
He turned at the sound of my footsteps, and that familiar half-smile touched his face.
“Hiding?” I asked, stepping closer.
“Absolutely,” he said without apology. “I love James, but this party is… a lot.”
“A lot is one word for it,” I murmured, glancing back towards the terrace where someone was doing a dramatic slow twirl for the drone.
“If I have to hear one more guest tell me about the ‘value of heritage architecture,’ I might start drinking straight from the barrels.”
I snorted, then stopped, the memory what I had to tell him coming back to me.
His eyes narrowed. “What’s wrong?”
How could he tell?
I hesitated only a second before stepping closer, lowering my voice. “The housekeeper sent through a message… something was off in the east hallway.”
His posture shifted, sharpening. “What kind of off?”
“The display cabinet.” I kept my gaze on his. “Some of the pieces were moved. Not stolen. Just… handled. Put back wrong.”
His jaw tightened. “Guests?”
“I don’t think so,” I said gently. “It wasn’t messy or careless. Whoever it was knew what they were looking at.”
Noah went silent.
“And you think someone’s… searching?” he asked.
I nodded.
He looked past me, back towards the terrace.
“Does anyone else know?” he asked quietly.
“No,” I said. “Just the housekeeper and the junior staff who noticed. They didn’t think much of it. They assumed it was some over-curious guest. But…”
“It wasn’t,” he said, finishing my thought.
We stood there for a long moment, the night air cool on my skin, the hum of the crowd distant now, like it belonged to another world.
I stared at him. “But I was also thinking… with how many cameras there are here tonight…?”
Noah’s eyes widened, the realisation hitting him instantly.
The band’s videographer, the drone, the guests filming everything that moved.
