The world took notice.
Not of the war.
Of the city.
Of the empire Christabel was building.
And they wanted in.
---
It started with a call.
Not from an enemy. From an ally. Someone who had been watching from the shadows. Someone who had been waiting for the right moment.
"Mrs. Moreau."
"Who is this?"
"A friend. Someone who admires what you're building."
"I don't have friends who call without identifying themselves."
"Then let me introduce myself. My name is Alexander Pierce. I represent a group of investors who are very interested in Verona."
"What kind of investors?"
"The kind who can help you build faster. Stronger. Better."
"What do you want in return?"
"A seat at the table."
---
Christabel set down the phone.
Damien was in the doorway.
"Who was that?"
"Alexander Pierce. He represents investors. They want in."
"In to what?"
"Verona. The city. The empire."
"How did they find out?"
She looked at him.
"Everyone knows now."
---
The next day, more calls came.
Investors. Developers. Politicians.
Everyone wanted a piece of what they were building.
Christabel was overwhelmed.
Damien found her in the study.
Staring at the phone.
"You don't have to answer."
"I have to."
"Why?"
"Because if I don't, they'll go elsewhere. And elsewhere might be against us."
"Then let them go."
"We need allies."
"We need loyalists. Not opportunists."
"They're the same thing."
"No." He walked to her. "They're not. Opportunists come and go. Loyalists stay. Even when it's hard. Especially when it's hard."
---
She looked at him.
"How do you tell the difference?"
"You watch. You wait. You see who shows up when you need them."
"And if no one shows up?"
"Then you do it alone."
---
That afternoon, Christabel called a meeting.
Not with the investors. With her inner circle.
Cole. Nyra. Dmitri. Sarah.
"We have a problem," she said.
"What kind?"
"Everyone wants in. Investors. Developers. Politicians. They see what we're building. They want a piece."
"That's not a problem," Sarah said. "That's an opportunity."
"It's both."
"What are you going to do?"
Christabel was quiet for a moment.
"I'm going to choose carefully."
---
The next few days were a blur.
Meetings. Phone calls. Negotiations.
Christabel met with Alexander Pierce.
He was tall. Gray hair. Sharp eyes. The kind of man who had been playing the game for decades.
"Mrs. Moreau."
"Mr. Pierce."
"Thank you for meeting with me."
"I didn't have a choice."
"Everyone has a choice."
She sat across from him.
"What do you want?"
"I want to help you build."
"Why?"
"Because I believe in what you're doing. Because I think you're going to change the world. Because I want to be part of it."
"What do you want in return?"
"A seat at the table. Nothing more."
"Nothing more?"
He smiled.
"I'm not greedy. Just ambitious."
---
Damien watched from the doorway.
After the meeting, he walked to Christabel.
"What do you think?"
"I think he's lying."
"About what?"
"About not being greedy."
"Then why are you considering his offer?"
"Because we need allies. And he has resources we don't."
"At what cost?"
She looked at him.
"I don't know yet."
---
That night, Christabel put Lena to bed.
Not Damien. Her.
She read her daughter a story. Not a baby book. A real story. One of her favorites.
"There was a woman who was offered everything," she read. "But she didn't take it. Because she knew that everything came with a price."
Lena stared at her.
"Bah," she said.
"That's right," Christabel said. "Bah."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"She said it again."
"She said it to me."
"She said it to both of us."
She closed the book.
Set it on the nightstand.
"She's going to be wise."
"She's going to be just like you."
"God help the world."
"God help anyone who tries to trick her."
---
They stood over the crib together.
Lena was asleep. Her tiny chest rose and fell.
"I'm going to turn him down," Christabel said.
"Pierce?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because I don't trust him."
"Then trust your instincts."
"I do."
"That's why you're going to succeed."
---
The next morning, Christabel called Alexander Pierce.
"I appreciate your offer. But I'm going to decline."
"May I ask why?"
"Because I don't trust you."
"Fair enough."
"Thank you for understanding."
"I don't understand. But I respect your decision."
"Goodbye, Mr. Pierce."
"Goodbye, Mrs. Moreau."
---
Damien was in the doorway.
"It's done?"
"It's done."
"He's not going to go away."
"I know."
"He's going to find another way in."
"Then we'll be ready."
---
That afternoon, Christabel went to the garden.
The rose was still blooming.
She knelt beside it.
"I turned down a powerful man today," she whispered.
The rose swayed.
"He wanted in. But I didn't trust him."
She touched the petals.
"I hope I made the right choice."
---
Damien appeared in the doorway.
"She's awake," he said.
"Lena?"
"Yes."
"I'll be right there."
He walked to her.
Took her hand.
"You made the right choice."
"How do you know?"
"Because you followed your gut."
"My gut has been wrong before."
"Not about people."
---
Lena was in the nursery.
Awake. Alert.
Christabel lifted her from the crib.
Held her against her chest.
"Good morning, little one," she said.
Lena cooed.
"I turned down a powerful man today. He wanted to be part of our family. But I didn't trust him."
Lena stared at her.
"I hope I made the right choice."