The Assassin's vow

My pulse shouldn't have been racing. I've broken into government buildings. I've escaped interrogation rooms with bruises and lies. And yet… Caleb Vale's voice in the dark? That had my heartbeat betraying me.

After my near slip in Desmond's study, I knew I had to tread carefully. The man was cold steel and hidden knives. And his son? A mystery wrapped in ink and suspicion.

Back at Vanguard, things moved fast.

The headmistress announced a midterm masquerade gala. Black tie, masks, dancing the kind of event where secrets spark under candlelight and enemies toast with champagne.

I was already planning who to corner in the shadows.

Brielle Vaughn

She walked into fencing class like she owned the room. Jet black hair in a slick braid, violet tinted lenses, and a reputation that preceded her.

"She used to train with MI6," Lila whispered like it was gossip. "Her mom's some big diplomat in London."

Brielle studied me like a chess piece.

"You're the Monaco girl," she said after class, wiping sweat from her collarbone.

"Ava Monroe," I replied, gripping my foil.

She nodded slowly. "You fence like you've seen real combat."

I smiled. "Maybe I dream in battlefields."

Her smirk was sharp. "We should spar sometime. No masks."

Dangerous. I liked her already.

The days leading up to the masquerade blurred. I collected intel, deepened friendships, and traced the threads of Celeste's journal. A name kept surfacing: Cassian Rowe. Not one of the Eight. But something darker. Someone outside the circle… watching.

Masquerade Night

My mask was midnight blue, feathered, and rimmed in silver. My dress sleek, black, and silent. Ava Monroe, untouchable, unreadable.

But tonight wasn't about Ava.

It was about strategy.

The ballroom was dripping in decadence. Gold chandeliers. Candlelit tables. Students twirling in rhythm, laughter echoing like a melody of lies.

I slipped through the crowd like smoke, brushing shoulders, catching snippets:

"Did you hear Julian Morton's firm is under audit?"

"Caleb hasn't danced with anyone tonight."

"The Vale heir's brooding again."

I found Caleb near the back, drink in hand, mask half off.

"You clean up well," I said.

He looked at me like I was both answer and riddle. "You look… dangerous."

I leaned in. "I am."

He offered his hand.

I took it.

We danced. Slow. Close. The kind of dance that wasn't innocent.

"You're not who you say you are," he said softly.

I blinked. "Then who am I?"

His eyes burned into mine. "Someone with secrets worth killing for."

And then… the fire alarm blared.

Chaos.

Screams. Scrambling. Sprinklers triggered from above.

But it wasn't a false alarm.

A message flashed across the screen behind the orchestra:

"We know what you did. Eight will fall. One by one."

Students panicked. Staff rushed to secure exits.

I stood frozen.

Because I didn't send the message.

Someone else did.

Someone who knew.

Later, when the school was locked down and students sent to their rooms, I sat on my bed, hair damp, heart pounding.

I pulled out Celeste's journal.

A new page.

One I hadn't seen before.

"There's another. A second daughter. Trained like me. She wants blood too. But she doesn't want justice. She wants chaos."

I stared at the words.

There was someone else.

A second player in the game.

And now, the rules had changed.

I wasn't the only assassin on campus.