A Point of No Return

Lorraine sat at her desk, pressing two fingers to her brow, her temples pulsing beneath the fog of too much wine and too little sleep. She had indulged herself tonight, lavishly and stupidly, thinking she could rest. The wine had started to soothe her nerves when the reports arrived. Of course they did.

Trouble in the red-light district.

Normally, she would've passed the matter to someone else. Delegated and filed it under someone else's problem.

But tonight, the name written in the report wasn't just anyone. It was Prince Damian.

Sylvia stood beside her, hands folded in front, her face pale with unease.

Lorraine exhaled through her nose, slow and irritated. "He sure wants to get me."

It was a game now. Obvious. Crude.

Prince Damian, with all his smug smiles and veiled words, was forcing her hand. He wanted to meet Lazira again, to confirm his suspicions. He might have thought himself clever.