Chapter 5 · Execution at the Ball

"Get your filthy hands off me, Caine!"

I jerked my wrist, trying to rip myself away. He didn't budge. His fingers dug into my skin like iron claws, pinning me in place.

Around us, the ballroom went dead. A hundred nobles in silk and lace froze, watching the 'mad villainess' struggle in the grip of the city's golden boy.

"Still as charming as ever, Alice," Caine sneered. He was inches from my face. He smelled like expensive cologne and betrayal. "You crash my party, scream at my guests, and then wonder why you're being handled like a rabid dog?"

"I'm not the one acting like a dog," I hissed, leaning in until we were nose-to-nose. "I'm the one who knows where you hid the Southern Trade Guild ledger. You want to talk charm? Let's talk fraud."

Caine's eyelid twitched. Just once. But it was the win.

He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "You're dead, Alice. Everyone's known you're dead for months. Why come back now just to make a fool of yourself?"

"Because I missed the look on your face when you realize you're nothing without my family's name."

I didn't wait for the comeback. I pivoted, slamming my elbow hard into his ribs. He gasped, his grip loosening for a split second.

That was all I needed.

I snatched a crystal champagne flute from a passing waiter's tray and smashed it right across Caine's cheek.

Glass shattered. Red sprayed across his pristine white cravat.

"The engagement is off, you pathetic leach!" I screamed. My voice echoed off the vaulted ceilings. "Consider this my formal resignation from your miserable life!"

"Guard!" Caine roared, clutching his face. "Arrest her! Drag her to the dungeons!"

Four guards lunged. I didn't blink.

*Target locked. Talent available: Enhanced Reflexes.*

The System pulsed in my mind—a cold, electric hum. I ducked the first grab, swept the second guard's legs, and drove my palm straight into the third one's throat.

Blur. Violence. Gasps.

I stepped over a groaning body and smirked. "Is that all? I expected more from Caine's lapdogs."

"Enough."

The voice didn't come from Caine. It came from the shadows.

Silas stepped into the light. Death dressed in black velvet. His eyes weren't on the chaos. They were locked on me, heavy and suffocating. He didn't run; he walked, each step sounding like a gavel hitting a block.

"You're making a mess, Alice," Silas said. The low rumble vibrated in my chest.

"Oh look, the High Inquisitor joined the party," I snapped, though my heart was hammering. "Come to save your favorite puppet?"

Silas didn't answer. He reached me in three strides and gripped my arm. No hesitation. No doubt. He didn't just hold me—he owned the space around me. He pulled me flush against his chest. The heat of his body hit me like a wave, contrasting the icy chill of his aura.

"Let go," I whispered. My breath hitched.

"Be quiet," he murmured, his lips nearly brushing my ear. "You've had your fun. Now you come with me before I let the guards finish what they started."

"You wouldn't," I challenged, tilting my head back to meet his gaze. "You're too obsessed with me to let anyone else touch me."

A ghost of a smirk touched his lips. "Obsession is a dangerous word, Alice. Don't mistake my curiosity for mercy."

He dragged me toward the exit. I kicked. I twisted. It was like fighting a mountain.

*BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.*

The System alarm screamed in my head. *Warning: Executioner Arrival. Countdown: 00:00:00.*

"What the hell..."

BOOM.

The massive oak doors didn't open—they exploded. Wood splinters flew like shrapnel. A figure stepped through the smoke, draped in blood-stained rags, carrying a blade forged in a nightmare.

The Executioner.

He wasn't supposed to be here yet. He was supposed to be at the capital square. But here he was, blocking the only exit, empty sockets staring right through us.

"Run," I whispered.

Silas didn't run. He didn't flinch. He stepped in front of me, his hand sliding from my arm to the small of my back, shoving me behind him. The air thickened, turning into a physical weight.

"Who invited this trash to my walk?" Silas asked.

"Silas, move!" I yelled, grabbing his coat. "That thing doesn't miss!"

"I know what it is," he replied. He didn't look back. "Stay behind me and keep your mouth shut for once."

The Executioner raised the blade. The metal shrieked. In a violent burst of speed, the monster lunged—a blur of grey and crimson meant to split us both in half.

I closed my eyes.

Then came a shockwave. I opened my eyes to see Silas's hand raised, his fingers barely touching the flat of the massive blade. He'd stopped the blow with one hand.

"Is this the best the city can send?" Silas sneered.

He twisted his wrist. Black mana erupted from his palm, throwing the Executioner backward through the stone wall of the foyer.

*BEEP.*

*System Alert: Mana Suppression Field Activated. Source: Unknown. Your abilities are currently locked.*

I froze. I tried to call the System, to steal the Executioner's strength. Nothing. Just a void.

I looked up at Silas. My blood turned to ice.

He wasn't looking at the monster. He was looking at me. And for the first time, I saw hunger in his eyes.

"Now," Silas whispered. It was a promise and a threat. "Let's see what you're really made of without your little toys."

He stepped closer, erasing the rest of the world. His thumb traced my jaw, pressing just hard enough to hurt.

"Tell me, Alice," he murmured, his gaze dropping to my lips. "Who are you really working for?"

A low, guttural growl erupted from the rubble. The Executioner was standing up. This time, the blade was glowing with a sickly purple light.

Silas didn't move. He kept his eyes on mine, his thumb still digging into my skin.

"Answer me," he commanded, "or I'll let him take your head."