Chapter 19
The absolute peace of the Blackwell estate was an elegant illusion maintained by constant, invisible vigilance. Five years had passed since Soren secured his throne, and the syndicate operated with a flawless, legitimate efficiency. The bright, cinematic sunlight poured through the towering windows of Elodie’s private office, illuminating the pristine white marble floors. She sat behind a heavy mahogany desk, her fair, rosy skin glowing with health and profound authority. She was no longer a housemaid; she was the undisputed queen of the empire, currently reviewing the guest list for her massive philanthropic foundation's inaugural gala.
The heavy oak doors clicked open, and Soren stepped into the room. He remained as movie-star handsome as ever, his broad shoulders filling out a tailored dark charcoal suit. His thick, slightly wavy hair was swept back, and his cold, perceptive eyes softened instantly as they locked onto his wife.
"The perimeter is secure, Elodie," Soren murmured, his deep, low voice vibrating in the quiet room. "However, Marcus has flagged a late addition to your VIP list. A Russian investor named Viktor Markov."
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Soren looked up, his expressive brows drawing together. "He offered a ten-million-dollar donation." Soren walked slowly toward her, his tattooed hands resting on the edge of her desk. "Do you believe a man like Markov offers ten million dollars without expecting to buy the entire house?"
"Markov’s background check cleared the federal databases," Elodie noted, swiping through the encrypted tablet on her desk. She looked up at her husband, completely unfazed by the potential danger. "But federal clearance is often just a very expensive lie."
