Anabella Clayton's POV:
Night had fallen, and Elinor was long since tucked away in sleep.
Jewell and I sat in the hushed luxury of the hotel's executive lounge, the city lights shimmering beyond the glass.
"A succession war. Wow. Sounds positively cinematic. If you win, you'd better let me handle the estate restructuring. That might just be the largest sum I've ever laid hands on." Jewell swirled the amber liquid in his glass, a predatory glint in his eye.
I rolled my eyes. "Don't get ahead of yourself. Winning isn't a guarantee."
He threw his head back and laughed. "I have more faith in you than you do. So, what's the play?"
"I'm still weighing my options. An investment bank offered me a partnership today..." I let out a bitter, hollow laugh. "Liars."
"Don't dance with those silver
