The invitation had arrived under the guise of an olive branch. It was Evelyn's style—always the master of appearances, the queen of playing both sides while manipulating the world around her. The summit she'd called was meant to showcase her power, her control, and, in her mind, to cement her place at the top of the business and political food chain.
Malia sat across from Nixus, her gaze unwavering as she read the contents of the invitation for the third time. The sleek paper felt cold between her fingers, and the seal—Evelyn's symbol—was a cruel reminder of what was at stake.
"So, she thinks she can just call a meeting and pretend everything's fine?" Malia muttered, crumpling the paper in her fist. Her voice was laced with contempt.