Three days later, the conference room of Carter Holdings looked like a crime scene for human patience. Papers everywhere. Coffee cups abandoned like casualties. Perfume in the air heavy enough to choke the ancestors.

Vivienne Carter stood in the center of the chaos tall, flawless, and dramatic as always, wearing a silk blouse so white it could blind a bishop. Her heels clicked like gunshots on the marble floor as she paced back and forth.

Her previous PA, Melissa, hovered nervously with a clipboard.

“Madam, these are the shortlisted candidates. Should we—”

Vivienne raised a manicured hand.

“Melissa, sweetheart, I don’t need commentary. Just send in the first victim— I...