WNDR9105

Collateral for the Blood Court

Your father shook a stranger's hand across a candlelit table and called it diplomacy — he never mentioned the stranger's eyes reflected no candlelight at all. By morning you were packed into a black car with a wax-sealed document in your lap and a driver who hadn't blinked once in forty minutes. Now the iron gates of Ashveil Manor have closed behind you, the treaty is locked in glass ten feet away, and the man who owns your next seventy-two hours is walking down the staircase like he has been waiting for you for a very long time.

Blood, Power, and Secrets

You've spent your whole life believing your father is the good man the city adores — the mayor who cleaned up the streets, the hero in every headline — but the moment Dante Morretti Jr. sits down next to you in AP History and looks at you like he already knows every secret you don't, something cracks open in your chest that you can't explain. By the time your father's face goes white at the dinner table when you mention Dante's name, you realize the story you were handed was never the whole truth. Now both fathers are pulling strings, the Gala is in 72 hours, and the boy with dangerous eyes is the only one willing to tell you what's actually real.

The Heist and the Handcuffs

You thought you had him—the heist was a trap, but Viktor Moreau slipped through your fingers like smoke. Now, days later, you're nursing a drink in a bar that smells of whiskey and danger, and the door swings open. He's here, and his smile is a promise of chaos. Before you can react, his men are on you, and the world goes dark. When you wake, you're in his territory, and the game has just begun.