The Northvale Key

Episode 6

The Seasonal Charity Banquet

Cassian threw himself over Lianna, sliding across the living room floor just as a loud crash shattered their apartment window. Sharp crystal shards rained down on Cassian’s back like a small storm. He could feel Lianna’s heart beating wildly against his chest, as fast as the wings of a trapped bird. Don’t move an inch! Cassian commanded. His voice no longer sounded gentle; it was as sharp as a freshly whetted blade. His blue eyes scanned the darkness, searching for the red laser trail. But the light had vanished.

Cassian... what was that? Why are they...? Lianna whispered, her breath hitching. Her body trembled violently in her husband’s embrace.

A warning, Cassian muttered softly. He rose slightly to crawl toward where the projectile had landed. He found it embedded deep in a wooden cabinet—a small cylindrical tube, not a live bullet. A marker gas or a micro-transmitter, he thought. Kenneth Stark was starting to play dirty.

Get up, Lianna. We have to move to a hotel for a while. Someone got far too bold tonight, Cassian said as he helped his wife up. Lianna stared at the small hole in the window, her face pale. Why is this happening just when I finally felt a glimmer of hope? That gallery building, the deed... is it all connected?

Focus on your safety first. Tomorrow is the Seasonal Charity Banquet, isn’t it? You can’t look broken in front of all of them, Cassian said, trying to provide a sense of calm while his hand secretly sent a command code to Agent D from inside his pocket.

Two days later, the crystal chandeliers in the main hall of the Grand Estetik Hotel glowed blindingly, reflecting off rows of luxury watches and designer gowns. The scent of expensive champagne and rose perfume filled the air. This was the night the Ashworth family always tried to flaunt their social dominance in the city. Cassian stood slightly behind Lianna, wearing an old black suit that had begun to fade at the elbows. He stood in stark contrast to the crowd before him.

Goodness, Lianna! Is that the dress you wore for Valerian’s birthday three years ago? The voice came from Viona. She stepped forward gracefully in a red silk gown that likely cost as much as a mid-range car. She looked at Lianna with a disdainful gaze, then shifted her eyes to Cassian. And you, Cassian... still wearing those cracked leather shoes to an event of this caliber? A true insult to the Ashworth family, Viona added, covering her mouth with a feather fan, pretending to stifle a laugh.

Lianna tightened her grip on her worn-out handbag. This event is for charity, Viona. The quality of my dress won’t change the value of the help we provide.

What help? Cyrus suddenly appeared from Viona’s side, sipping his drink with an arrogant air. You mean that second-hand dress you’re going to auction? Don’t embarrass us, Lianna. You already received a miracle in the form of that Silver-Gate gallery for free; at least try to look like the owner.

Cassian only gave a thin smile, his gaze remaining flat. Laugh while you still can, he thought. We feel quite comfortable with this appearance, Mr. Cyrus, Cassian replied calmly.

Of course you’re comfortable, you freeloading leach! Shameless, Cyrus snapped. Listen, tonight is the peak of the high-caste art auction. We will be offering Great Grandmother’s Golden Falcon Statue to boost the family’s reputation. So, make sure you stay in your corner seats and don’t make any moves that might attract the attention of our colleagues.

Lianna looked down, her eyes tearing up slightly from the public attack. She turned and walked toward the very back table, avoiding the gazes of other guests who had begun to whisper.

Don’t listen to them, Cassian whispered once they were seated in the last row.

It’s hard, Cassian. They’re right. I feel like a stranger in my own home here, Lianna lamented. Great Grandmother is watching me from the upper stage with such a disappointed look.

Tonight won’t end the way they imagine, Lianna. Trust me just this once, Cassian said, his left hand quickly operating an encryption app on the phone beneath the table.

The hall lights suddenly dimmed, leaving only the spotlight directed at the main stage. A professional auctioneer stood there in white gloves. Ladies and gentlemen, we have come to the main item of the evening. A masterpiece from the golden era, a Solid Gold Falcon with rare sapphires for eyes. An offering from the Matriarch of the Ashworth family!

Whispers of admiration spread. Cyrus stood confidently near the front row, while Viona was already preparing to show off her family’s pride to the elite guests.

We open the first bid at five hundred thousand dollars! One million! an oil tycoon shouted. One million two hundred! another chimed in.

Viona looked toward Lianna’s table with a triumphant smile. See that? The Ashworth name is skyrocketing thanks to Grandmother’s assets. Not that mysterious gallery of yours, Lianna!

Cyrus laughed loudly, feeling as if the night belonged entirely to him. However, the bidding suddenly stopped at two million dollars. The atmosphere in the hall grew quiet for a moment. Just as the auctioneer was about to strike the gavel for the second time, Cassian typed a single command line into his phone: Anonymous authorization. Target: Lianna Ashworth. Instant closing price.

A second later, the auctioneer’s assistant at the side of the stage raised his hand with a phone pressed to his ear. His face changed from formal to extremely tense. Interruption! the assistant shouted. He whispered something to the lead auctioneer.

The auctioneer’s jaw dropped, and he adjusted his bowtie. His voice sounded shaky. There is a bid coming in from an encrypted private network... A man on behalf of Mrs. Lianna Ashworth!

The entire hall suddenly went silent. Cyrus, who had been raising his glass, froze with his mouth open. Viona nearly dropped her fan. Lianna? Lianna whispered in shock, looking at her husband in confusion. Cassian, what is this?

The auctioneer took a deep breath. One final bid for this Golden Falcon in the amount of... Five Million Dollars! On behalf of Mrs. Lianna Ashworth as her private donation to the city foundation!

The room exploded instantly. Hundreds of guests stood up, and the spotlight automatically shifted from the stage to the dark corner table. There, in the dimness, Lianna’s previously pale face was now illuminated by a brilliant light, revealing her beauty despite her old dress.

Cyrus let out a stifled scream, his face turning beet red as if he were being strangled. What? Impossible! Where did she get five million dollars?

Viona stared at her cousin with a look full of spite and fear. Did she steal company money? Great Grandmother! Something must be wrong!

Cassian remained seated calmly, leaning back in his wooden chair as if that insane bid weren't his doing. He glanced at Cyrus, who was trying to curse at the auctioneer’s assistant, demanding data verification. The funds have been verified and entered the foundation’s account ten seconds ago! the assistant's announcement completely stopped Cyrus's resistance.

Great Grandmother, sitting in the second-floor VIP row, stood up slowly. Her aged eyes narrowed, staring intently at Lianna and the "useless" man beside her. The room was filled with thunderous applause from the city's elite, who now viewed Lianna as an incredibly powerful secret philanthropist.

Cassian... did you do something? Lianna asked in a very low voice, her hands gripping the edge of the table.

I’m just your bookkeeper, Lianna.

"How could I possibly have five million dollars?" Cassian replied with a perfectly flat tone. "But look at Viona’s face. What do you think is a fair price for her arrogance tonight?"

Lianna drew a breath, slowly standing tall as the servers approached her with an attitude far more respectful than before. In a matter of minutes, her status had shifted from a beggar in a second-hand dress to the city’s prima donna of generosity.

However, amidst the commotion, a male server approached Cassian discreetly. Without a word, he dropped a mauve-colored handkerchief onto the table in front of Cassian. Cassian frowned and picked it up. On the edge was an embroidered symbol he recognized instantly: a lion logo within a crown entwined with thorns. The ancient symbol of Northvale.

A small note was tucked inside the folds of the fabric. Cassian opened it slowly.

A sweet offer, Little King. But by throwing around five million dollars so recklessly, you’ve just sent a navigation signal to the Coven Entity. Meet me at the hotel’s back entrance in ten minutes. –The Root Iron.

Cassian’s heart rate quickened. His identity’s security was beginning to falter faster than he had anticipated.

"I have to go to the restroom for a moment, Lianna. You enjoy this victory for now," Cassian whispered, his eyes trailing the shadow of the server disappearing into the crowd.

"Cassian, don’t be long. Grandmother will surely call me for an explanation!" Lianna said anxiously.

Cassian simply gave a small nod before slipping out of the circle of light. He walked through the quiet service corridors of the hotel, every step feeling heavy. When he reached the emergency exit behind the building, illuminated by a single dim bulb, a middle-aged woman in all-black attire was already waiting for him, her posture as rigid as steel.

"You’re more reckless than your father, Cassian Northvale," the woman’s voice was heavy, cold, and filled with authority. The woman was Lady North—the Root Iron.

"Or maybe I’m just more impatient to destroy them all," Cassian replied defiantly.

The woman stepped closer, the dim light highlighting a long scar across her palm. "If the goal was only to humiliate two pests like Cyrus and Viona, you didn’t need to use the Syndicate account. You triggered the enemy's radar protocol. Out there, the Starks aren’t the only ones looking for you tonight."

"What do you know about my parents' deaths fifteen years ago?" Cassian cut in sharply.

Lady North fell silent for a moment. Her eyes gazed into the distance, toward the dark city sky. "That night wasn’t just about a robbery of wealth. It was a mass execution of a financial system they deemed too dominant. And the man who led that slaughter... he’s here, Cassian. In this city."

Before Cassian could ask anything else, the sound of shoes scuffing against the concrete stopped their conversation. Cassian immediately drew a breath and lowered his stance.

"Is someone following us?" Cassian hissed.

Lady North drew a short blade from her sleeve. "Stay where you are, Record Keeper. Time to see if your bloodline’s legacy is enough to keep you alive."

Suddenly, a deep voice laughed from the darkness of the alley, followed by the appearance of three large men with masks covering their faces. "The Northvale wolf cub has quite the formidable guardian, it seems. Hand over that biometric key now, or your beautiful wife inside will be bringing home a corpse tonight!"

Cassian clenched his fists. The charity gala wasn’t over yet, but his bloody war had just begun on this cold concrete floor.