The peace that followed Damien’s reckoning was profound. For two full days, the world was quiet. The phones didn't ring with threats, the internet was silent, and the future of my film was secure. It was a fragile, beautiful peace, and I cherished every second of it.
Damien was occupied, dealing with the complex fallout of his corporate war and the restructuring of the packs he had disciplined. It left me with long, quiet hours to myself. I spent them in the library, not working, but simply being. I read, I listened to music, and for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, I allowed my mind to be still.
It was during one of these quiet afternoons, as I was curled up on a sofa with a book, that my phone, sitting on the table beside me, buzzed.
A text from a new, unknown number.
“Mrs. Blackwood, my name is Isabella. Enjoying the little fires your pet monster has set? The real war is just beginning. And you, little girl, are not welcome in my family.”
