My phone rang. I picked it up.

“What’s your assessment of access?” Linus asked.

“Extremely limited. Her family is well connected and has a history of cooperation with military forces.”

All of which I had put into our report. Getting an interview with her would be difficult, getting her House’s permission for me to magic her would be impossible, and if we used brute force and demanded she submit to interrogation and I was wrong, there would be hell to pay.

“I can compel her testimony, but we will need verification,” Linus said.

“Cristal rarely leaves the House Ferrer compound,” I continued.

“But she does enjoy the opera,” Linus said.

“Yes, but the next HOAS gala is tonight, in less than three hours. The tickets for the Crystal Ball are invitation-only and have been sold out for months—”

“I’ll pick you and Alessandro up at seven.”

He hung up.

No good job, no thumbs up. Just pick you up at seven.

Arabella jumped up, ran across the hallway, and opened my door. “What did he say?”

“He wants me to go with him and Alessandro to the gala. Tonight. At seven.”

I stared at my phone. 5:37 p.m. There was no way. The hair alone . . .

“Up!” Arabella snapped at me. “You have less than an hour and a half. You need a shower.”

I texted Alessandro, Opera, 7:00 p.m., tuxedo, and ran upstairs, thanking Arrosa in my head for insisting that I buy a small but expensive wardrobe.

I had three evening dresses: a white sheath, a red dress the color of blood, and a flowing blue gown that hugged my breasts and waist, spilling into a flowing skirt. The sheath was too tight to allow any sort of running, the red dress drew too much attention, so the blue gown was it.

It had taken a miracle, but at 6:58 p.m. Arabella herded everyone into the kitchen, so I could go into Runa’s bedroom and change, because there was no way I could make it down the stairs in the gown.

I stepped into a pair of small silver heels, slipped the dress on, and examined myself in the mirror. My dark hair fell on my shoulders in wide waves, combed back behind one ear in a deep side part. It framed my face, showing off the diamond earrings glittering in my ears. The diamonds were lab made. Arrosa had insisted on the real thing, but I’d refused. Nobody had died digging my earrings out of the ground, and that mattered more to me than what Houston’s elite would think.

My makeup was light for the evening. I never looked good wearing bright lipstick, so I opted for a lighter pink and smoky eyes. Given another half an hour, I would have done a better job contouring my face, but it would have to do. I looked appropriate for the evening, and nobody would laugh in my face. Most of it was in your poise anyway. As long as you looked like you belonged at the venue, people assumed you were supposed to be there, and being escorted by Alessandro Sagredo and Linus Duncan meant most of the attention would be on them.

I took a deep breath and walked out of the room. Voices drifted from the kitchen, and I headed in that direction.

“. . . a dignified pleasant gentleman,” Alessandro was saying. “I was honored to make Mr. Duncan’s acquaintance.”

Honored my ass.

“We shared a drink. It was perfectly cordial—”

I walked into the kitchen. Alessandro stopped in mid-sentence.

He was wearing a tuxedo. It fit him like a glove. He looked like he was born in it, every inch a Prime.

I had seen him in a tuxedo a dozen times on his Instagram, but nothing could’ve prepared me for the real thing. My pulse sped up. I felt slightly light-headed. I wanted to reach out and touch him to make sure he wasn’t a hallucination. People weren’t that handsome in real life. It just didn’t work that way.

It dawned on me that he was staring at me with a slightly bewildered expression.

My sister opened her mouth. Runa elbowed her.

Silence stretched.

I waited for him to speak, but he seemed content to just stare at me.

And this wasn’t awkward. Not at all.

Everyone’s phone chimed, announcing someone at our front door. The most beautiful assassin in the world blinked. It was enough to snap me out of my trance.

“That’s probably Linus. We should go.” I slid my phone into a small, glittering Edie Parker clutch.

Alessandro came back to life. “Yes, we should.”

Grandma Frida blocked the way. “Neither of you are going anywhere until I get a pic for my Insta.”

“Grandma, they’re not going to the prom,” Arabella protested.

“Shush. They’re going to a high society shindig and I’m getting at least one good picture of them together.”

If we didn’t do it, I’d never hear the end of it. “He’s supposed to be in Hawaii right now.”

“I won’t post it until next week.”

I turned to Alessandro. “She’s lying.”

Alessandro graced her with his brilliant smile. “I’d be delighted to pose for a picture.”

“Smile, Catalina,” Grandma commanded.

I arranged my face into a carefree smile.

Grandma took the pic and checked it.

“Good enough?” I asked.

“It will do.”

Alessandro offered me his arm, I put my hand on his wrist, and we walked down the hallway. He smelled of sandalwood, vanilla, and a hint of citrus. I felt completely ridiculous. I was Cinderella going with my prince to a ball. Where I would beguile and interrogate a woman who made monsters for an assassin consortium, and I had to do a very good job so the National Assembly wouldn’t murder the lot of us.

We reached the door to the office, he held it open for me, and we headed to the front door. Every step was an effort, like someone had put a rubber band around my legs.

“You look very beautiful,” Alessandro said.

When given a compliment, always respond, Arrosa’s voice murmured in my head. “Thank you. You look very handsome.”

He opened the door and I walked out into the street, where Linus’ armored Escalade waited under the light of the streetlamp.

“Weapons?” Linus asked.

“No,” I said. I had checked the security requirements for the gala. Ever since Baranovsky, one of the richest Primes in the country, was murdered at his own charity dinner, the safety measures for high society events had risen to ridiculous levels.

Alessandro shrugged. “No need. There will be plenty of security people around.”

And they would be carrying weapons he could copy.

“How wide is your range?” Linus asked.

Alessandro gave him his wolfish smile.

“I ask, because I brought a full trunk. How close does the vehicle need to be to the building?”

“How far away will the car be parked?”

Linus shook his head. “If it’s parked 0.14 miles away, would that be close enough?”

“Yes.”

The car turned onto Texas Avenue and pulled up in front of the Wortham Theater Center, joining the line of other luxury vehicles dropping off their passengers, as if we all were elementary school kids. Night had fallen, but the entire street was bathed in bright electric light.

“All right, children,” Linus said. “We’re going to walk inside, mingle briefly, and be seated at our table. The ball will consist of five acts with twenty-minute intermissions. Dinner will be served in courses during the intermissions. It is customary to dance and socialize between the acts. Catalina, you’re going to find Cristal, and when an opportunity presents itself, become her best friend in the whole world. We need definitive proof of her involvement, the location of the facility, and an admission of guilt, if you can get it. Record everything she tells you. Alessandro, under no circumstances is Catalina to be harmed. Avoid violence, but if you have no choice, try to take care of it quietly. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” I said.

Count Sagredo didn’t dignify the question with an answer.

The Escalade slid to a stop. The usher opened my door and offered me his hand. I leaned on it and stepped out of the vehicle into the night.

A hundred and fifty feet of red carpet stretched across the narrow plaza, bordered by lush oaks and lit by globe streetlights. At the end of it, the glass entry archway glowed with golden light. People in evening attire strolled toward it, women in glittering gowns and men in suits, pausing at the topiary to have their pictures taken against the red-carpet backdrop. Onlookers waited on the edges of the path, eager for a glimpse of the rich and famous. A TV crew lurked in the distance, by the entrance, the correspondent interviewing the guests. Cameras flashed, ushers hurried back and forth, jewels sparkled on skin and hair . . .

The urge to crawl back into the Escalade gripped me.

I raised my chin. I wasn’t some Cinderella with a magic dress from my fairy godmother. I bought my own dress with money I earned, I bought my shoes and my bag, and nothing was going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight. I didn’t like this fake world of glamour and excess, but nobody had the right to question my presence here. I had a job to do, and I would do it.

Alessandro came around the car and offered me his arm again. A few heads turned our way.

Linus exited the Escalade. A subtle change came over the crowd. They didn’t exactly gape, but the Primes of Houston paused. Every single one of them knew Linus was there.