Chapter 2 — The Gala Heist

Kael

The Gilded Alchemy Auction House rose before him like a monument to wealth and power, its marble columns bathed in golden light spilling onto the cobblestone street. Kael tugged at the cuffs of his sleek black suit—a rare departure from his usual leather jacket—making sure the faint glint of his lock-picking gauntlet remained hidden beneath the fabric. He adjusted his posture, blending into the flow of attendees drifting toward the grand entrance. Their laughter and murmured conversations carried a hollow ring, the polished veneers of art collectors and power brokers barely disguising their insatiable greed. Kael doubted many of them had ever gone to sleep with an empty stomach, let alone woken up wondering how they’d survive the next day.

His gray eyes swept over the façade, cataloging details with practiced precision: cameras discreetly mounted to monitor the entrance, security guards stationed in pairs at the towering doors, the telltale earpieces nestled against their collars. A fortress dressed in opulence. But every fortress had cracks. The key wasn’t brute force—it was invisibility. To blend in, to become just another shadow slipping through the cracks.

Kael’s gaze shifted to the rear service entrance concealed by an ivy-covered archway. He moved briskly but smoothly, a stray current of air passing unnoticed. The faint hum of conversation from the street faded as he ducked into the cover of shadows. A flick of his wrist and the gauntlet’s fine-tipped lock picks slid silently into place. He crouched by the steel door, his dark silhouette merging with the ivy-covered wall. A soft snick broke the stillness, and the lock yielded without resistance. In seconds, he was inside, swallowed by the cool, shadowed interior.

The air inside carried the faintly cloying scent of champagne mingled with polished wood, and the muted hum of laughter and conversation filtered through the walls. Kael moved with the quiet efficiency of a predator, each step soft against the marble floor. Ornate sculptures loomed like silent watchers, their shadows stretching in the dim light. He’d memorized every detail of the auction house’s blueprints, stolen from a well-guarded archive, and his route through the staff-only corridors was as clear in his mind as a well-worn map. His pulse remained steady, his breathing even. Jobs like these were his specialty.

But something gnawed at the back of his mind, keeping his movements sharper than usual. A job this clean—a single target, minimal interference—it was too easy. And easy always meant there was a catch. He hated catches.

His instincts sharpened further as two guards came into view, loitering at the edge of a back hallway. Kael slowed, pressing himself into the shadowed recess of a doorway, straining to catch their conversation.

“Boss said to double security for tonight,” one muttered, his voice low but audible. “Apparently that locket’s worth more than the rest of this junk combined.”

Kael’s jaw tightened. He hadn’t expected this. The brief had been explicit about the security layout—there wasn’t supposed to be any last-minute changes. His stomach twisted, a flicker of frustration and unease sparking through him. Of course, they couldn’t make this easy. He adjusted his position, waiting for the guards to pass before slipping back into motion, his movements smooth but deliberate. The doubled security meant tighter patrols, more eyes, and far less room for mistakes.

Kael’s path eventually brought him to the edge of the main auction hall, where a gilded archway framed the view of the glittering crowd below. The light of crystal chandeliers danced across the polished floors, catching on the jewels and finery of the assembled guests. Conversations buzzed like an undercurrent, punctuated by soft laughter and the occasional clink of champagne glasses. On the stage at the room’s center, rare artifacts sat displayed in glass cases, each one a story waiting to be stolen.

The locket rested in the smallest case, understated compared to the other treasures. Its gold surface gleamed under the spotlights, the intricate floral etching almost invisible from Kael’s vantage point. It didn’t look like much, but Kael knew better than to trust appearances. The client had been clear—retrieve the locket and ask no questions. Still, unease twisted tighter in his chest. His instincts wouldn’t quiet, a silent warning thrumming beneath his skin.

Sliding into motion, Kael wove around the room’s edges, staying within the shadows of curtains and storage crates. The guards patrolled in tight, coordinated movements, their vigilance a constant reminder of the doubled security. His sharp gaze caught sight of a young server weaving through the crowd, balancing a tray of champagne flutes. Timing his approach perfectly, Kael brushed past the man, pulling a security badge from the server’s pocket with a single fluid motion. The server didn’t miss a step, too engrossed in avoiding a tipsy collector’s wandering hand to notice the theft.

Kael palmed the badge and turned his attention to the glass case, moving with the kind of confidence that went unquestioned. No one stopped a man who looked like he belonged. Reaching the display, Kael crouched as though tying his shoe, angling his body to shield the case from view. The gauntlet’s tools emerged with a flick of his wrist, and he worked quickly, his fingers moving with practiced precision. The magnetic lock was a challenge, but not an insurmountable one. Within seconds, it clicked open, the glass lid shifting just enough to let him slip the locket into his hand.

Up close, the locket felt heavier than its size suggested. The intricate etching of swirling vines caught the light, delicate and almost hypnotic. Its surface was worn smooth in places—a mark of years of being held, turned over, cherished. Kael’s fingers traced the pattern almost absently, the weight of it pressing against his palm. This wasn’t just a piece of jewelry. It carried history. Significance.

A crackle of static and the low murmur of a guard’s voice through an earpiece jolted Kael from his thoughts. He slid the locket into his pocket and rose smoothly, masking his tension behind a neutral expression. Something had shifted. The low hum of the crowd sounded sharper now, the laughter thinner. The guards moved differently, their eyes scanning the room with renewed focus. Kael’s instincts screamed at him to get out.

He slipped back into the shadows, retracing his steps with controlled urgency. The opulent surroundings gave way to the sterile corridors of the service areas, the cold gleam of polished metal and fluorescent lights replacing the auction’s gilded warmth. His pace quickened, his footsteps near-silent against the tiled floor. He hadn’t tripped any alarms, but the guards were searching for something—or someone.

The service door he’d entered through came into view, but a voice crackled through a nearby radio before Kael could reach it. “East exit clear. Sweep the south corridor next.”

Kael froze, cursing under his breath. He couldn’t risk running straight into the guards. His gaze darted to a staircase leading upward, the faint glow of an emergency exit sign at the top. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than walking into a trap.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Kael emerged onto the rooftop, the cool night air biting against his skin. The city spread out before him, a jagged silhouette of glass and steel against the black sky. The muted sounds of the auction—music, laughter, the occasional clatter of glass—drifted up faintly from below. Kael moved quickly to the roof’s edge, scanning for an escape route. A maintenance ladder ran down the side of the building, its lower rungs just within reach. He glanced back toward the rooftop door, half-expecting it to burst open, then leapt for the ladder.

The metal swayed under his weight as he climbed down, the vibrations rattling through his hands. His heart pounded, each descending step bringing him closer to the ground and further from the auction’s reach. When his boots finally touched the pavement, he slipped into the alley’s shadows, pulling his collar up against the chill. His fingers brushed the locket in his pocket, the cool metal pressing against his palm like a warning.

For a moment, Kael hesitated. His instincts told him to hand it over to the client and walk away, no questions asked. But the weight of the locket felt heavier than gold, and a quiet voice in the back of his mind urged him not to let it go—not yet.

With a final glance at the glowing façade of the auction house, Kael melted into the night, the locket’s secrets trailing him like a promise of trouble yet to come.