“Alright. I’ll be waiting.”
Newell hung up before Anthony could even say a word.
Waiting? Anthony stood there, replaying Newell’s words in his head, feeling like a wave of icy cold had suddenly washed over him.
A few seconds later, Anthony picked up his phone and called Hans. His voice was flat, emotionless. “On the wedding day, increase security around the chapel and the Gates and Blair estates. Ten times the usual number.”
Ten times…? Hans almost blurted out a question, but swallowed it, agreeing with confusion knotting his gut. Was someone trying to crash the wedding?
…
Isle of Veil.
Newell put his phone down, stepping out onto the rooftop terrace, eyes drifting toward the distant sea and mountains. Somewhere past them was Eldoria, under a completely different sky.
“Newell.”
Cedric walked over, holding out a thick folder. “These are the gifts for Nine. Could you look them over?”
Newell took the folder. It was heavy, stuffed with lists. Even a quick glance showed there were at least a hundred gifts, every one rare and impossibly expensive.
“It’s not enough. Add more,” Newell said, snapping the folder shut.
Cedric froze for a moment, caught off guard. “Not enough? Newell, most of what’s left now… those jewels and things. Patricia left those for you, for when… you get married.”

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