The office of the White Queen was no place for the faint of heart. Velvet drapes swallowed the sunlight, and the mahogany desk bore the weight of ledgers that moved fortunes—or ended lives. Emma sat behind it, flawless in a white power suit streaked with moonlight, her ice-blue eyes cool as diamonds.

A soft knock at the door—a signal only she and her assistant understood—sent a ripple through the charged air. The assistant entered, heels clicking like a metronome of loyalty. In her arms, she carried a single black envelope: the coded threats from a rival family, meant for Emma’s eyes alone.

Emma reached across the desk without a word. The assistant laid the envelope gently before her, fingers brushing the wood as if to claim it—and Emma’s attention—as sacred. She moved without asking, sliding into the seat beside Emma to light the single candle on the desk, its flame revealing the assistant’s steady resolve.

No one else ever got this close. No one else ever saw the shadows beneath the White Queen’s poise. But here, in this silent ritual, they were equals in power and purpose—two women bound by blood debt, ambition, and an intimacy forged in secrets.

And in that hush, as the candle flickered between them, Emma knew there was no limit to the favors her assistant would do… or to the price they both would demand.