Red approached him, her silk gown rustling like a warning."A heavy crown for such a festive night, Mr. President," she murmured, leaning against the mahogany pillar beside him.Vane didn't turn. "The PrivateSociety promised me this would be over by Christmas Eve. It’s nearly midnight.""The paperwork is in the library," Red replied, her eyes scanning the room for the Society’s enforcers. "But I think you know the price isn't just a signature. They want the infrastructure bill passed by New Year’s."
By the time the final bell chimed, "Freckled Red" had vanished into the snowy night, leaving the leader of the free world with a choice: remain a puppet or burn the Society to the ground with their own secrets.