Annakel
The first knock isn’t dramatic.
It’s polite.
That’s what makes it terrifying.
A soft thud against the private elevator door in Alexander’s corridor, followed by the muted sound of voices through the intercom. Building security. A request. A legal-sounding word salad that tries to make intrusion feel like procedure.
Annakel stands in the living room with her arms folded tight across her chest, trying to keep her body from shaking. Alexander’s scent on her throat still feels warm, like a phantom hand. It calms her just enough to think, which might be the cruelest part.
She’s calm enough to understand what’s coming.
Mason isn’t here to retrieve a bride.
He’s here to retrieve control.
Viktor’s voice is clipped as he listens to the corridor feed. “They’re saying they have ‘welf
