The letter is waiting on my desk when I arrive at the office Tuesday morning.
No postage. No return address. Just my name written in block letters that look deliberately disguised.
I know before I open it that it's bad.
"Harper." I don't touch the envelope. "Call Jordan. And maybe Marcus. Actually, call everyone."
She sees the letter and her face goes pale. "Not again. I thought this was over."
"Apparently not."
Jordan arrives first, already pulling on gloves from his investigation kit. He photographs the envelope from every angle before carefully opening it.
Inside is a single page. Typed. Anonymous.
Congratulations on the merger. On the Forbes feature. On thinking you've won. But victories built on lies don't last. You destroyed three lives to build your empire. Ethan's. Layla's.
