Chapter 8
Seth had ridden his motorcycle back to the cabin after following Petra from Kaiserslautern.
The small rental property sat about fifteen minutes from the castle, tucked into the forest with enough privacy for a shifter who needed to come and go without being noticed.
He’d stashed his gear there, set up a basic command center with his laptop and encrypted communications equipment, and used it as a place to sleep during the brief hours he wasn’t watching the castle.
Now he stood in front of the bathroom mirror, buttoning a fresh dress shirt.
Navy blue this time, paired with charcoal slacks and Italian leather shoes that had cost a small fortune.
The Maserati waiting outside wasn’t his—it belonged to Mark’s European operation—but Seth had borrowed it for tonight’s performance.
Because that’s what this dinner was. A performance designed to send a very specific message to anyone watching.
The opposition needed to know that Petra Haas wasn’t alone anymore. She had resources, allies, and protection. The vulnerable newcomer was already building a power base, and anyone who thought they could intimidate or eliminate her would need to reconsider their strategy.
Seth checked his watch. It was time to make his entrance.
The Maserati handled like a dream on the winding roads between the cabin and the castle.
Seth had always appreciated good engineering, and Italian sports cars represented some of the finest craftsmanship in the automotive world.
The engine’s purr was deeply satisfying as he navigated the curves with practiced ease.
He pulled up to the castle’s main entrance at precisely seven o’clock. Timing mattered. Early suggested eagerness or insecurity. Late implied disrespect. Right on time demonstrated professional competence and attention to detail.
Herr Müller opened the door before Seth could knock. The butler’s expression remained neutral, but Seth caught the quick assessment in his eyes. Taking in the car, the clothes, the confident posture of someone who belonged in places like this.
“Good evening,” Seth said in flawless German. “I’m here for dinner with Frau Haas.”
“Of course, sir. Please, come in.” Herr Müller stepped aside, his movements stiff and formal. “May I take your jacket?”
“Thank you.” Seth shrugged out of the leather jacket he’d worn over his dress shirt, revealing the full effect of his carefully chosen outfit. He handed it to Müller with the casual ease of someone accustomed to being waited on.
The butler’s eyes narrowed fractionally. Reassessing. Seth could practically see the calculations happening behind that impassive face. Who was this man? What was his connection to the new owner? And more importantly, what did his presence mean for the existing power structure?
“Frau Haas is in the library with her other guest,” Müller said. “If you’ll follow me.”
Seth trailed behind him through the castle’s opulent halls, his senses on high alert despite his relaxed exterior.
His sensitive hearing picked up the usual sounds of a large house.
Water was running somewhere on the second floor.
There was also a distant clatter of dishes from the kitchen.
Footsteps on the floor above, probably one of the maids.
But there was something else. A faint electronic hum that didn’t quite fit with the castle’s medieval bones. It was likely coming from electronic surveillance equipment. Seth would bet money on it.
He filed that information away as Müller led him to the library. The door stood open, and Seth could hear Petra’s voice before he saw her.
“…accounts in Luxembourg, Switzerland, and the Cayman Islands. The numbers are staggering.”
“Indeed,” Katja’s crisp tones replied. “But manageable with proper oversight.”
Seth stepped into the library and paused, taking in the scene.
Petra sat at the massive table with documents spread before her, looking far more composed than she had this morning.
She’d changed into one of her new purchases, the burgundy cardigan he’d suggested over dark designer jeans and a cream blouse.
The colors suited her far better than the boring beige she’d tried to buy.
Katja sat across from her, still in the sharp charcoal suit she’d worn to lunch but with her jacket draped over the chair back. She looked up as Seth entered, her pale blue eyes missing nothing.
“Ah, our security consultant,” she said with the faintest hint of amusement. “You’re very punctual.”
“Always.” Seth moved into the room with measured confidence. He caught Petra’s eye and saw relief flicker across her face before she schooled her expression. “Thank you for including me this evening.”
“Of course.” Petra gestured to the seat beside her. “Frau Brenner and I were just reviewing the estate documentation.”
Seth sat, very aware of Herr Müller still standing in the doorway. The butler cleared his throat. “Dinner will be served at seven-thirty as requested, madam. Will you take aperitifs in the library?”
“I don’t think so, since this is a working dinner,” Petra said. “Thank you, Herr Müller.”
The butler bowed slightly and withdrew, closing the door behind him with a soft click.
The moment he was gone, Seth leaned back in his chair and smiled at both women. “The entire place is wired for sound,” he said conversationally, as if discussing the weather. “I’d be shocked if we weren’t being recorded right now.”
Petra’s eyes widened, but Katja merely nodded. “I suspected as much. Kettering Enterprises manufactures state-of-the-art surveillance systems. It would have been foolish of Herr Kettering not to use his own products in the public spaces of his home.”
“Which means we don’t say anything we wouldn’t want everyone else to know,” Seth said.
“Agreed.” Katja gathered the documents into neat stacks. “Though I think we can discuss security concerns in general terms. That’s perfectly reasonable given the size of the estate and Ms. Haas’s position as a newcomer.”
“You are correct, of course,” Seth said. His respect for the lawyer continued to grow.
A few minutes later, they made their way to the dining room, where Frau Dietrich had outdone herself. The table was set with crystal and fine china, the flower centerpiece looked professionally done, and the smell of roasted meat and herbs filled the air.
One of the maids served the first course. It was a delicate soup that was probably delicious but tasted like nothing to Seth. His attention was elsewhere, cataloging everything about the staff’s behavior.
The maid kept her eyes down, moved efficiently, and disappeared the moment her task was complete. She was being professional…and very careful not to make eye contact with any of them.
That was interesting.
“The soup is excellent,” Petra said, filling the silence the next time the maid made the rounds of the table. “Please give Frau Dietrich my compliments.”
“Of course, madam,” the maid murmured, and fled.
Katja waited until the door closed before speaking.
“The estate’s lawyers will likely present several documents tomorrow.
Power of attorney forms, corporate governance papers, banking authorizations.
” She sipped her soup delicately. “All standard for an inheritance of this size. I’ve reviewed what you’ve already received, and nothing seems unusual on the surface. ”
“On the surface,” Seth repeated, catching her emphasis.
“I’ll want to examine everything thoroughly before anything is signed.” Katja set down her spoon. “There may be clauses buried in the fine print that limit control over certain assets or properties. We need to ensure complete authority before making any significant changes.”
“Changes like what?” Petra asked, playing her part.
“Staffing decisions, for one. Property access restrictions. Terminating existing arrangements that don’t serve your interests.” Katja’s pale eyes were sharp. “You’re the owner now. You should have complete discretion over who comes and goes from your property.”
Seth caught the subtext. She was talking about the mages without actually mentioning them.
“That makes sense,” Petra said. She was doing well, keeping her voice steady and her expression thoughtful. “I’ve been thinking about the staff situation actually. No offense to the people who’ve been here, but I’d prefer to bring in my own team eventually. People I choose myself.”
“A reasonable decision,” Seth said. “Though you’ll want to handle it carefully. Terminating long-term employees requires proper notice and severance in Germany. You don’t want legal complications.”
“Herr Müller mentioned he’s been here thirty-two years,” Petra said. “That’s quite a commitment.”
“Loyalty like that is valuable,” Katja said carefully. “Though loyalty to the previous owner doesn’t always transfer to the new one. Something to keep in mind.”
The main course arrived. Frau Dietrich herself brought in the plates this time.
She served a perfectly seared duck breast with roasted vegetables and some kind of berry reduction that looked like art on the plate.
The cook’s dour expression didn’t change as she served them, but Seth noticed the way her eyes lingered on Petra. Assessing. Judging.
Not friendly. Definitely not friendly.
“This looks amazing,” Petra said warmly. “Thank you so much, Frau Dietrich.”
The cook nodded stiffly. “Master Abdul always appreciated fine cuisine. I hope it meets your standards as well, madam.”
There was something in her tone. Not quite insolent, but close. A reminder that Petra was new, unproven, and possibly unworthy of the position she’d inherited.
Seth’s inner jackal growled low in his mind. He kept his expression pleasant, but he was filing this interaction away. Frau Dietrich was loyal to Abdul’s memory and possibly to his associates. She needed to go.
After the cook left, they ate in silence for a few moments. The duck was exceptional, but Seth’s mind was busy thinking through logistics.