Chapter 4: The Second Collar
Magnolia’s fingers trembled around the edge of the wax-sealed letter.
The seal was unmistakable gold, with the snarling wolf of the Rhodes bloodline carved into its face like a brand.
She didn’t open it in the hallway. Not under the cameras. Not with Carlton standing like a statue ten feet away, pretending not to watch. She nodded once, tucked the paper into the inside pocket of her coat, and walked away.
The corridors of the Callahan estate twisted like a maze ornate, silent, and far too symmetrical. Every painting was of a man in power. Not a single woman. Not a single Luna.
The East Wing was quiet when she returned. Her room was exactly as she’d left it untouched, cold, too perfect. Magnolia locked the door, drew the curtains, and pulled the letter out with shaking hands.
She broke the seal.
The paper inside was thick. Crisp. Expensive. It smelled faintly of smoke and cedar.
Ms. Blake,
There are always options.
My son believes he can control the outcome. That you are desperate, and therefore predictable. But I believe in leverage. And you, Magnolia, are leverage yet unclaimed.
You’ve spent your life crawling out of graves other people buried you in. Let me offer you something better than a coffin with silk sheets.