Kael Dreaven
I pulled open the wardrobe and grabbed a long dark coat. This one had golden cuffs, embroidery at the collar, and a subtle design running along the hem. It was heavier than my usual ones, but it would do. Given that this was supposed to be a party, so appearance matters.
Slipping it on, I reached into my pocket and pulled out the photograph again. Alexandra Dwayne. I stared at her face for a second longer before tucking it away.
Then, crouching down, I pulled out the box from under the bed. The weight of the metal inside was familiar, almost comforting. I ran my fingers over the sleek barrels before picking one up, checking the magazine, then sliding it into the waistband of my pants.
As much as I wanted to press that gun to his fucking head and pull the trigger, I couldn't.
He knew I couldn't.
