My Vampire Harem Will Dominate Everything

Chapter 135: The First Opponent

Ezra, Olivia, and G walked up the stairs with little fanfare, their trance calculated to bld into the luxurious ambiance.

They smiled, joining the stream of elegantly dressed vampires making their way inside.

Inside, the main hall was a spectacle of grandeur. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm glow over the assembled guests, and the air was filled with the soft murmur of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The decor, a tasteful bld of old-world elegance and modern luxury, provided the perfect backdrop for the city's elite covs.

Ezra led the way, his eyes scanning the room for pottial allies and threats. Olivia stayed close, ready to introduce him to key figures, while G observed the crowd, her sses attuned to any sign of the Maguire Cov or other dangers.

Powerful vampires from various covs mingled, their conversations a murmur of intrigue and power. Ezra could feel the weight of the occasion, the importance of each interaction they would have. He exchanged a glance with Olivia, a silt affirmation of their shared resolve.

Olivia took the lead, guiding them gracefully through the crowd, introducing them to key figures, and gaging in strategic conversations.

G's knowledge of the covs' histories and alliances proved invaluable, allowing them to navigate the complex web of relationships with ease. Red's insights into the currt stimts helped them idtify pottial allies and avoid pottial pitfalls.

Ezra observed, participating wh necessary, but mostly suring that their strategy was being executed flawlessly. He could see the interest they were gerating, the way others were beginning to take notice of their presce and their pottial.

The first blow of the night began as the conversations a them gradually fell into a hushed murmur. Most eyes turned to them, curiosity and tsion palpable in the air. Ezra felt a prickling ssation at the back of his neck, a premonition of something significant about to unfold.

A deep, commanding voice sounded from behind them. "Ezra Matt. How fortuitous to see you here."

They turned to see Count Solomon standing before them, his presce radiating power and authority. His regal bearing and piercing gaze silced the room further.

His gold hair shone under the lights, making him look like his sigil, a gold lion. He wore a beautifully decorated cloak of gold thread over his dark suit. His piercing red eyes which had a gold cross set within it, pinned them in place, like a mouse in front of a rat.

The vampires Ezra and Olivia had be conversing with discreetly melted into the crowd, leaving them standing alone against the imposing figure of the count. Ezra couldn't blame them. Ev he would do the same in their place.

Internally, Ezra marveled at how Solomon had approached them unnoticed. The man was as eye-catching as one could be and yet, they never noticed his presce till he got so close.

Fuck. Ezra cursed within the privacy of his mind. This was going to be a disaster. He could tell. Meeting Solomon in full view of everyone was far from ideal. It was a public stage, and Solomon thrived in such vironmts.

Ezra inclined his head respectfully. "Count Solomon, it's an honor."

Solomon's eyes bore into him, a flicker of contempt and curiosity dancing within them. "So, you're the one who killed my right hand man, Malachi," he remarked, his tone cold and accusatory.

The room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of Solomon's words pressing down on everyone prest. Ezra met his gaze steadily, feeling Olivia's presce beside him, a silt source of strgth.

"Malachi's actions left us no choice, Count Solomon." Ezra responded evly, his voice carrying just ough deferce to respect the count's status without appearing weak. "It was a matter of survival and I believe that every vampire has a right to defd himself."

Solomon's eyes narrowed, his lips curling into a sardonic smile. "Survival, you say? Such a convit justification for murder, don't you think? Killing a man who just wanted a conversation."

Ezra could feel the scrutiny of the gathered vampires, each one waiting to see how this confrontation would unfold. He knew that any sign of weakness now could undermine everything they had worked for.

"I do not believe that a giant sword is usually used to gage in cordial conversation. Malachi was a formidable adversary," Ezra continued, choosing his words carefully. "But his actions were a threat to our cov's safety. We acted in self-defse."

Solomon's gaze shifted to Olivia, his expression inscrutable. "And you, Miss Wild? Do you share this stimt?"

Olivia's eyes remained steady, her voice unwavering. "I do, Count Solomon. We had no desire for conflict, but we will defd ourselves wh necessary."

For a momt, the tsion in the air was almost unbearable. Th, Solomon's smile wided, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Very well. But understand this, Ezra Matt." He projected his voice, so that the other vampires in the room could hear him. "All actions have consequces. You've made powerful emies.

You had better be careful how you step."

Ezra knew what was happing. A count declaring mity with the Matt Cov, no one would want anything to do with them. Not in a million years. Solomon had made his declaration. There was only one way to answer.

Ezra inclined his head again, accepting the implicit threat. "We are aware, Count Solomon. We do not take our responsibilities lightly."

As the tsion betwe Ezra and Count Solomon reached its peak, another presce made itself known.

Count Griffin, respldt in a dark, tailored suit that acctuated his commanding aura, approached with a confidt stride. The air a him seemed to crackle with authority.

"Ah, Solomon," Griffin's voice cut through the low murmur of the crowd, "I see you've found Ezra and Olivia. Quite the gathering tonight, isn't it?"

Solomon's gaze shifted to Griffin, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "Griffin, always a pleasure. Though I must say, the company here has tak a rather unexpected turn."

Griffin smiled, a sharp glint in his eyes. And with that, Ezra knew that whatever hope he had of controlling the narrative had scattered in the metaphorical wind.