The invitation arrived the next morning, delivered by a courier who looked terrified to be there. Another black-edged envelope, this time addressed specifically to Emily Chen.
Alexander intercepted it before Emily could open it, his face going pale as he recognized his mother's distinctive style.
"Don't open it," he said, his voice tight with controlled panic. "Whatever she wants, whatever she's offering—say no. Stay away from her, Emily. Promise me."
But Emily had already taken the envelope from his hands, her curiosity overriding her caution. Inside was a single card, cream-colored and expensive, with elegant handwriting:
Miss Emily Chen,
I would be delighted if you would join me for tea this afternoon at 3 PM. The Peninsula Hotel, private suite 2847. Come alone. We have much to discuss about my son's... tendencies.
With warmest regards,
Eleanor Drake
