Page 48 of Goldrage (The Chrysophilist Trilogy #3)
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
AURELIA
T he Harrow estate ballroom glitters like a jewel, crystal chandeliers casting warm light over Seattle’s most dangerous elite as they celebrate Antonio Castellano’s eightieth birthday.
I stand near the marble columns with Eleanora, both of us dressed elegantly enough to blend with the crowd while also concealing the bulletproof vests we’re wearing.
Everyone has been complaining about how cold it is, but Valentine turned the temperature down so us wearing faux fur doesn’t look strange.
“So many people,” Eleanora says as her eyes scan the room. “Adrian’s timing is perfect. Everyone who matters is here.”
I adjust my emerald dress—a deliberate choice that matches my necklace—and nod toward the far corner where Olivia is talking to a group of socialites. “Olivia’s people are in position?”
“Lorenzo confirmed it this morning. She’s more than lived up to her end of the deal. The Marlowe family’s influence with law enforcement will help a lot. And her men are well-trained. In exchange, she gets her freedom.”
France. That’s where Lorenzo told me Olivia wanted to escape to.
All she wanted was permission to disappear, to start over somewhere she could build a quiet life away from the violence that had defined her existence.
She even wants to start a family. I’m happy for her.
Someday, when this is all over, maybe I’ll visit her there.
If we all survive the next few hours.
Lady Harrow is near the orchestra. But even from across the room, I can see the tension in her posture, the way her smile isn’t as perfect as usual. She knows her life is teetering on a cliff’s edge.
My eyes dart to Antonio Castellano standing near the massive birthday cake.
He’s basically a body of wrinkles, but he’s very animated as he shares stories from the Consortium’s early days.
He’s next to Sergio. Nearby, representatives from the Smith, Whitman, and DeMarco families cluster in their respective corners.
Like Eleanora said, everyone who matters is here.
Adrian moves through the crowd with an easy confidence. He’s wearing a golden mask that covers his entire face, just like all the servers, but I know it’s him. I’d recognize the way he moves anywhere.
He couldn’t show his face because the Consortium still thinks he’s dead, despite any rumors, but he needed to be here tonight. Lorenzo convinced the Castellano’s that golden masks on all the servers would elevate the elegance. And it provides the perfect cover for Adrian.
I watch as he approaches one of the security guards stationed near the main entrance, their conversation brief.
I actually expected more of a spectacle when Adrian appeared and confirmed to all the families that he was still alive.
Rumors have spread for weeks, Lorenzo told me about that, but this is Adrian’s first official appearance.
And no one seems to be batting an eye—likely because of Lady Harrow’s “PR” work and how she’s worked on her connections, likely assuring everyone that Julian is still the leader.
“There it goes,” I whisper to Eleanora as the guard nods and disappears into the crowd. “Adrian just asked him to start gossiping about Julian’s true father. Now we wait for it to spread.” My heart pounds against my ribs, desperate for this to just be over.
The orchestra starts playing a waltz, and couples drift onto the marble dance floor. Adrian weaves through the dancers carrying a champagne tray. He pauses to whisper to another guard.
“Phase one is moving faster than expected,” Eleanora observes, watching Sergio Castellano pull two other men aside for what appears to be an urgent conversation. “Look at them scramble.”
I nod. Valentine and Gideon are monitoring everything from the security room, ready to execute their part when the moment arrives. I feel sick.
Just a little while longer…
A server glides past with sparkling cider, and I accept a glass just to have something to do with my hands. The crystal is cool against my palm, grounding me in the moment. If I think too much about what’s going to happen soon, I might puke.
Across the room, Julian appears from the shadows near the terrace doors. My breath catches—even from this distance, I can see the hollowness in his face, the way his usual commanding presence has dimmed to something more fragile. God, what has learning the truth done to him?
And… why is he here? We’d all expected him to stay in his room.
“That’s a surprise,” Eleanora whispers, noticing Julian too.
Several eyes dart to Julian as he positions himself near an exit. He stands there in his tux and crosses his arms, just watching. Waiting?
Has he decided to face everything? He must know that rumors are going to spread and people are going to start questioning him as leader.
I try not to think about what’s going through his head and turn my attention away.
I watch a woman in burgundy silk approach Lady Harrow with urgent whispers.
Lady Harrow’s face goes chalk white, her champagne flute trembling in her manicured grip as she absorbs whatever devastating news she’s just received.
“Someone just told her what they heard about Julian,” Eleanora observes, watching as Lady Harrow immediately begins working the room, moving from group to group with the frantic energy of someone trying to contain a wildfire with her bare hands.
I glance at Julian again, who’s still standing like a statue, staring off into space .
The gossip spreads faster than Lady Harrow can contain it, whispered conversations rippling through the ballroom. I watch family patriarchs lean together with concerned gazes, their wives clustering in tight groups as scandalous rumors pass from ear to ear.
Lady Harrow finally notices that Julian is here. She approaches him with desperate concern, and I watch their brief exchange. Whatever Julian says to his mother makes her recoil as if slapped, tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as she flees from him.
Slowly, and to my satisfaction, she’s becoming a withered, frail woman who’s being consumed alive by all the destruction she’s created over the years.
The birthday celebration continues despite the undercurrent of tension.
Antonio Castellano gives a rambling speech about family loyalty and tradition, his words taking on ominous undertones as the assembled criminals secretly contemplate the implications of Julian’s illegitimate birth.
The massive cake is cut while everyone applauds, but I notice how few people actually take a slice—everyone seems too nervous to eat.
Adrian passes by Eleanora’s and my position near the columns. As he draws near, he leans slightly toward me and speaks quietly without breaking stride, “It’s done.”
The simple words send ice through my veins. He’s told Valentine and Gideon to act. All across the city, Adrian’s plan is now in motion. Phone calls are being made, coordinates are being transmitted, evidence shared, and the dominoes that will topple the Consortium are beginning to fall.
“You ready?” Eleanora asks quietly, glancing at Lorenzo, who’s near the cake. He looks calm and casual as he eats a slice and talks with Olivia, but I can see my cousin’s anxiety in his stance. Olivia glances at me and gives a knowing smile and head tilt.
I don’t reply. I feel sick but there’s no going back now. Once and for all this will end, one way or another.