The invitation was their only way in. An event of this caliber, a private showing for a reclusive legend like Dubois, was a closed circle. The guest list would be shorter and more heavily guarded than a state dinner.
"Get me two invitations," Kaelen said to Marcus over the phone, his voice clipped and efficient. "Immediately."
He expected it to be handled within the hour. In his world, access was a commodity, and he could afford any price.
Twenty minutes later, his private line rang. It was not Marcus.
"Kaelen, darling," a voice purred from the speaker. It was a voice Kaelen knew well, one that dripped with the condescending sweetness of old money. Penelope Vanderbilt.
Her family, the Vanderbilts, were co-sponsoring the event. They were dinosaurs, a clan whose current influence was a pale shadow of their ancestors', but they clung to their pedigree like a drowning man to a life raft.
"My assistant passed on your… request," she continued, drawing out the word as if it were distasteful. "I wanted to handle this personally."
Kaelen waited, his expression unreadable. Evelyn sat in the armchair opposite his desk, a book open in her lap, but he knew she was listening to every word.
"I'm so sorry, Kaelen," Penelope said, her voice lacking any hint of actual apology. "But I'm afraid the Dubois retrospective is a rather exclusive affair."



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