The envelope was waiting for them on the counter when they woke.
No courier, no knock, no cameras catching the delivery. It just appeared.
This was the work of a professional, they both thought. And the perpetrators were not kidding at all. They were here for serious business.
Liam stared at it like it might be a bomb. The paper was thick, ivory, expensive. The kind of stationery you used when you wanted someone to feel small just touching it.
Ava didn’t need to open it to know. The handwriting alone — looping, deliberate, every stroke the perfect blend of elegance and threat — was Delilah’s.
Dearest Ava,
You always did shine brightest under my light. Join me tonight at the Glass House. No security, no Liam. Just you. Let’s see if you still know how to play.
— D.
She read it once.
