## Chapter 2: The Cold Street
# The Glass Inheritance
The rain in Seattle didn’t fall; it seeped into your bones. Emily stood on the sidewalk outside the towering iron gates of the Blackwood estate, her single suitcase clicking against the wet pavement. She had no money, no references, and now, a looming threat of a police report.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket. A text from Julian: I’m so sorry. I’m handling it. Don’t disappear. Go to the Westin. Room 402. It’s in my name. I’ll come for you.
Emily stared at the screen. Was this a lifeline or a trap? If she went to the hotel, she was truly his mistress. If she stayed on the street, she was a target for Victoria’s lawyers.
Suddenly, a black SUV pulled up to the curb. The window rolled down to reveal Victoria’s head of security, a man named Miller with eyes like cold flint.
“Mrs. Blackwood wants you to know that the police are already at the station,” Miller said, his voice a low growl. “She’s offering you a deal. Leave the state tonight. Never contact Mr. Blackwood again, and the 'theft' charges disappear. Stay, and you’ll be in a cell by midnight.”
Emily looked back at the mansion. It sat on the hill like a crown of thorns. She thought of Julian’s eyes—the way he looked at her sketches. He was the only person who had treated her like a human being in years.
“Tell Mrs. Blackwood she can keep her deal,” Emily said, her voice stronger than she felt. “I didn't steal anything. And I won't be bullied.”
May you like
Miller shrugged. “Your funeral, kid.”
He drove off, splashing dirty rainwater onto her coat. Emily turned toward the bus stop. She wasn't going to the Westin. She was going to the only person she had left—her brother, Leo, who worked at a dive bar across town. But as she walked, she felt the unmistakable sensation of being followed. A silver sedan was trailing her, keeping its distance, its headlights like the eyes of a predator.
