Serene
The Moonclaw pack house feels different. Despite the warm air outside, it feels colder. The warm emotion that used to fill the room when I stepped in is gone. It is now replaced with wary stares and judgment.
Everything about my life feels… supervised.
After the auction disaster, Victor didn't yell at me again. That would have been easier to endure. Instead, he moved with cold efficiency. He disappeared into meetings where they reviewed my assets and used the words "risk containment" far too often.
My accounts are no longer fully mine. Large transactions require approval. Trust distributions are monitored. Even my personal investments are being "rebalanced."
Rebalanced.
It is such a polite word for losing control. I am being treated like a child.
I sit in the
