Chapter 12
Merrick expected violence.
He kept watching my hands.
Understandable.
My reputation helped him control Elias for months.
I decided not to reward that expectation.
No beating.
No dramatic execution.
I removed everything more important to him.
Access.
Name.
Rooms.
Introductions.
Every guest he had promised something to received the same message from me personally:
Merrick Fairfax speaks only for Merrick Fairfax.
Simple.
Devastating.
His value collapsed before midnight.
He tried laughing.
“You think that erases what I know?”
“No.”
“What stops me selling stories?”
“Nothing.”
His smile returned.
Then I added:
“But now everyone knows you sold the same door to six people tonight.”
The smile disappeared.
Trust is the product of brokers.
Once gone, inventory becomes worthless.
I did not need to threaten him.
The people he manipulated would decide whether they ever trusted him again.
Most would not.
He left the lodge under escort at dawn.
Not arrested.
Not harmed.
Simply excluded from every Wynthorne property and relationship.
Elias watched him go.
“You’re letting him walk?”
“Yes.”
He looked dissatisfied.
Fair.
“He took six months.”
“I know.”
“So that’s it?”
“No.”
I looked at him.
“You decide what contact you ever have with him. Rosamonde decides hers. The guests decide theirs.”
I paused.
“But I’m not turning your disappearance into another performance of my power.”
Elias considered that.
Then nodded slowly.
He had spent months fearing the Mafia boss he never met.
Maybe the first thing I owed him was proving Merrick’s version of me incomplete.
Nerelle joined us.
She carried the cleaned coat.
The wine stain remained faintly visible.
Elias touched the cuff patch.
“You still sew badly.”
She hit his arm.
Good.
Normal cruelty.
Sibling kind.
Then Elias asked:
“Can I have it back?”
Nerelle looked at the coat.
“No.”
He blinked.
“Why?”
“Because you used it to scare me half to death.”
May you like
Fair.
For the first time since the reception began, I laughed.
