“And the girl from the wrong side of the tracks can become…” A princess. A riddle. An heiress. A game. Jameson smiled. If this was a test, I’d passed. “On the surface,” he told me, “it appears that the letter outlines what we already know: My grandfather died and left everything to the devil he didn’t know, thereby reversing the fortune of many. Why? Because power corrupts. Absolute power corrupts absolutely.”
