Chapter 125: Mysterious Banquet

Chapter 125: Mysterious Banquet

The date on the invitation was tonight.

Ethan stood at his desk, held the gold-edged card for two seconds, and let out a short laugh.

"Leo, you better have something useful for me."

The card had nothing extra on it — just an address, a time, and a short string of numbers.

The simpler it looked, the more wrong it felt.

Knowing how Leo operated, something like this never showed up for no reason.

Ethan slipped the invitation into his inner jacket pocket and looked over at Noah.

"Keep eyes on Mike. Keep digging into the Valentine family — don't spook them."

"Got it."

"And I'm heading out tonight. Double the security at the apartment."

"Already done."

Ethan gave a nod and walked out of the office.

By the time he got back to the temporary apartment, the sky had started to dim. The people they'd pulled out were waking up one by one.

Mia was the first to sit up.

She had a blanket wrapped around her, hair a little messy, color not quite back in her face. When she saw Ethan walk in, she opened with that easy, breezy tone she always had.

"The hero returns. I figured I'd wake up to a doctor first, then maybe a bill."

Ethan walked over and handed her a glass of water. "Lucky you — the doctor's off today."

Mia took it and knocked back a couple sips, eyes running over him quickly.

"You're not hurt?"

"Getting tagged by a bunch of idiots in black robes? That'd be embarrassing."

Mia curved her lips slightly and left it at that.

Across the room, Clara was awake too.

She was propped against the headboard, hair loose over her shoulders, face still pale, but her eyes were steady. She looked Ethan over and spoke in that familiar tone of hers.

"You look better than I expected. Shame — I was hoping to take your jacket off myself and check for wounds."

Ethan leaned against the doorframe and looked at her.

"Save your energy. Flirting can wait until tomorrow."

Clara's mouth curved up and she gave a quiet laugh. "Then remember — you owe me one."

Ethan didn't take the bait. He laid out the situation plainly.

"Listen. This isn't over. For the time being, nobody goes anywhere. The office, this apartment, the rooftop helipad — that's it. You go out, you take someone with you. Non-negotiable."

Mia raised her hand in a mock surrender. "Copy that, boss."

Clara looked at him and gave a small nod. "No argument from me."

Evelyn woke up later than the others. She sat up the moment her eyes opened and her first words were pure reflex. "Where are those black-clad lunatics?"

"Most of them are dead."

Ethan stood at the foot of the bed, voice flat.

Evelyn opened her mouth like she hadn't quite processed it yet. A moment later she managed, "Oh my God..."

Grace and the others came around gradually, starting to talk among themselves.

David didn't ask much when he woke up. He just rolled his shoulder out of instinct, made sure everything was still attached, then looked at Ethan. "Sorry for the trouble again."

"You're alive. That's all that matters."

David was quiet for a moment, then nodded.

Susan had barely been awake five minutes before she started in — first the bed was too hard, then the curtains were the wrong color, then her makeup case she'd left back at the villa.

"Oh God, my eyeshadow palette was in there. Limited edition, just bought it last week. Couldn't those lunatics have at least let me grab my things first?"

Ethan was standing in the living room. He let her finish, then said one thing.

"You made it out alive. You already won. I'll have someone get you a whole box of eyeshadow palettes."

Susan blinked, and her tone dropped a notch. "Well... you don't have to go that far. Two sets would be fine."

Evelyn buried her face in her hands. "Mom, please stop."

Susan shot her a look. "What? I almost got kidnapped and killed. Can't I get a little something for the trauma?"

Ethan had no interest in refereeing a family argument. He ran through the rules one more time.

Susan kept muttering under her breath, but she didn't actually push back.

After what they'd been through, even the most oblivious person understood it wasn't safe out there.

Time moved fast.

When the night had fully settled in, Ethan changed into a black shirt and dark gray overcoat, grabbed a low-key black Dodge from the company garage, and headed out.

The address on the invitation was a long-established banquet hall on the east side of downtown.

Traffic was steady. Streetlights lit up the whole district.

Ethan drove with one hand on the wheel, the other tapping the edge of the window, running through the recent threads in his head.

Mike. The Valentine family. The Aeterna Causality. Leo. The invitation.

Odds were good he'd run into at least one of those threads tonight.

About twenty minutes later, the Dodge pulled up outside the venue.

The place was impressive — red carpet at the entrance, warm gold lights lining both sides of the steps, a row of luxury cars parked out front.

But it wasn't the venue that caught Ethan's attention. It was the people.

A crowd of young men stood outside, all looking somewhere between twenty and thirty at most. Suits and formal wear pressed and neat, hair perfectly done, holding glasses and chatting with the kind of self-satisfied ease that came naturally to people raised in money.

What was stranger was that there were almost no older guests anywhere in sight.

"Interesting."

Ethan pushed the car door open, stepped out, and scanned the area.

The other guests were holding invitations too, but theirs looked different — silver-white or deep blue, well made, but nowhere near the same level as the gold-edged card in his pocket.

Someone noticed him.

A curly-haired young man glanced at Ethan's car with a flicker of contempt, then shifted his eyes to the invitation in Ethan's hand as he came up the steps.

His expression changed immediately.

Not just him — a few of the people nearby went quiet too.

"Is that a gold card?"

"No way, those never go to outsiders."

"Who is this guy?"

"Never seen him before."

The murmurs drifted into his ears. Ethan walked on like he hadn't heard a word.

Security at the door was heavy — four big men, earpieces, white gloves, black suits, eyes that sized up everyone who came through.

The young men ahead of him handed over their invitations and got a routine check.

Then it was Ethan's turn.

The lead security guard had barely taken the card before his expression shifted. He looked down, checked the number again, then straightened up and dropped his chin slightly.

"Good evening, sir. Welcome."

The two guards beside him stepped aside at the same moment — smooth, practiced, completely respectful.

That was all it took. The looks from the crowd around him changed entirely.

Envy. Scrutiny. And more than a few glares that made no effort to hide their resentment.

Ethan's face stayed blank. He pocketed the invitation and walked inside.

The interior was even more lavish, but ten or so steps in, Ethan's brow pulled together slightly.

It wasn't just that everyone here was young.

It was that everyone here was male.

The entire hall looked like someone had deliberately cleared out half the population. All that was left was a room full of well-dressed young men standing around with drinks, making conversation.

"Perfect," Ethan thought. "Let's hope this isn't what it looks like."

He kept moving, eyes sweeping the room.

Some of them looked like the sons of wealthy businessmen. Some looked like students. Others had that unmistakable bearing that came from military or political families.

The way they stood, the way they talked, the watches, the cufflinks, the shoes, even the way they held their glasses — all of it had a trained quality to it.

This didn't feel like a party. It felt like a screening.

Then the room went noticeably quieter.

The small clusters of conversation broke off. Everyone's attention shifted toward the far end of the hall. Even the band stopped playing.

Ethan followed their gaze.

At the top of the grand spiral staircase at the back of the hall, a figure appeared.