Eleanor stood by the floor-to-ceiling window in her study, her gaze lingering on the dark sky above. The stars were scattered like spilled glitter, faint yet constant, whispering memories of a past she'd tried for so long to forget. In the distance, a plane passed silently overhead, blinking red and white across the heavens.
Her thoughts swirled like a storm cloud. "The assassination order wasn't for Eleanor Raynor... but for Eleanor Whitmore," she murmured to herself.
That detail changed everything.
"It means the order didn't come from the business world... and definitely not from the supernatural circles either. If it had, the bounty would be in the millions… not a mere hundred thousand dollars. No, this is personal. It has to be the Whitmore family."
