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Chapter 105: Ignition Sequence
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... edictable. Cool even in summer. The scent—damp oak and old grapes—had a calming quality. Every Wednesday afternoon, she came down to dust, polish, reorganize. No one ever came here. It was hers. A little space beneath the noise.
She worked in silence, humming under her breath as her cloth swept across the dusty bottles. Vintage Bordeaux, year ’73. Untouched for decades. The Wallenberns had thousands of bottles like it. Nobody drank them. Just symbols. Power in glass.
Then—footste ...
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