"Do not touch the wax."
Ryan took the heavy black envelope from Victoria Price. The paper was unnaturally cold. It felt like holding a solid sheet of frozen lead.
Victoria stood frozen in front of the glass desk. Her breathing was completely erratic. She looked at the crimson seal as if it were a live explosive.
"Magnus said the courier did not leave a vehicle," Victoria whispered. "He simply walked out of the shadows at the front gate. He was wearing a bespoke suit from the eighteenth century."
Ryan ran his thumb over the intricate crest stamped deeply into the red wax. It was a complex geometric design of interlocking tuning forks and a crown.
"It is the Elysium Summit," Victoria choked out.
Ryan looked up. "Explain."
"They are not a record label, Ryan," Victoria pleaded. "They ar
