The invitation arrived two days later. It was a thick, creamy envelope of a weight and texture that whispered of extreme importance. It was addressed to Lucien Gates, CEO. It bore a wax seal, not with an initial, but with a small, intricate emblem—a stylized winged helmet.
Lucien opened it at the breakfast counter, his knife slicing through the seal with a crisp sound. He pulled out a heavy cardstock invitation. His eyes scanned the words. A slow, dazzling smile spread across his face.
“The Valkyrie Masterclass,” he breathed, his voice full of awe. “Ziva. Do you know what this is?”
She knew. Every architect did. It was a myth. An invitation only, never applied for. A secretive, week long retreat for ten global visionaries. It was named for the choosers of the slain, picking only those d
