Lady Bianca

The morning sky over Manhattan stretched pale and endless, the color of watered down steel. The city below pulsed faintly, cars slipping through intersections, horns echoing in the distance, life moving on with its usual indifference. From the penthouse suite of the Langford Estate, the chaos looked almost serene, a symphony of control from ten stories above.

Lady Bianca stood by the window, her reflection ghosting across the glass. She wore a robe of deep crimson silk, tied ...