Chapter 723:

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Adella’s POV

The freezing morning mist of Lake Geneva clung to the black waters like a heavy, suffocating shroud. I sat rigid in the passenger seat of the unmarked tactical speedboat, the icy wind biting through my dark, tailored suit.

“Approaching the private dock, Luna,” Alistair’s voice crackled softly through my invisible earpiece. “Heart rate is steady. Remember, Beatrice Vance doesn’t walk; she glides over people. Do not break character.”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. The medical-grade silicone mask adhered to my cheekbones felt tight and foreign, a physical reminder that one wrong micro-expression would mean my death. The sharp, overpowering scent of Beatrice’s custom, expensive perfume completely suffocated my natural moonflower aroma, turning me into a ghost wrapped in an aristocrat’s skin.

The speedboat bumped gently against the damp, slippery wood of the dock. I stepped off, my high heels clicking sharply in the dead silence of the morning.

𝖱е𝘢𝗱 𝖿𝗿𝘦𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝘃e𝘭𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝘨a𝘭𝗇𝗈𝘃𝖾𝘭ѕ.𝖼o𝗆

I approached the heavy oak doors of the lakefront chalet. Pushing them open, I stepped into the dim interior. The air inside smelled of old wood and the faint, metallic tang of the Syndicate’s bio-vault. The only light came from a few logs crackling in the massive stone fireplace.

Standing near a steel inventory table was Silas Thorne.

My wolfless heart skipped a beat. Seeing the cowardly Syndicate rat who had funded Braydon Hyde’s mental cage for me sent a spike of pure, visceral hatred through my veins. But I ruthlessly crushed Adella Everett down into the dark, letting the icy, arrogant soul of Professor Beatrice Vance take the wheel.

Silas dropped his clipboard, the color draining from his face. His cowardly posture instantly shrank at the sudden appearance of a High Council elite.

“Beatrice?” Silas stammered, his eyes wide with shock. “What are you doing here? Gideon didn’t authorize an inspection—”

“Don’t gawk at me like a fool,” I snapped, perfectly mimicking Beatrice’s icy, aristocratic drawl. I walked slowly toward him, projecting absolute, unyielding disdain. “Cassian’s pathetic paranoia is giving me a migraine. I am not here for an inspection. I need the Level 9 Neural Regeneration Override Drive. Now.”

At the mention of his brother, Cassian, a dark, ugly flicker of suppressed jealousy flared in Silas’s eyes. It was exactly the psychological wound I needed to exploit.

But Silas was a rat who survived by fearing the biggest predator in the room. He took a trembling step back, his gaze darting nervously toward the hidden vault behind the fireplace.

“I… can’t,” Silas stuttered, his survival instinct briefly overriding his awe. “Gideon will skin me alive if I hand over Syndicate tech without his direct clearance. Is this for the Council? Cassian didn’t send any orders.”

The air in the dim room froze. If he reached for the comms on his belt to verify my request, the illusion would shatter. I would be dead before Dallas even breached the black site in the city.

I didn’t panic. I didn’t step back.

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