Her talent was undeniable. Her fame spread far beyond her hometown. Madelaine, the pianist. She could charm the most iron-hearted of men with just a few sweet notes. Men were falling down at her feet one by one: rich and poor, dukes and commoners, husbands and sworn bachelors.

She wasn’t picky, she knew every man had a role to play in her life. Everyone could be used to her benefit. Some were amazing lovers, some would pour expensive gifts upon her, some could pave the way to new, advantageous connections. Everyone was a vessel she would happily deplete and leave behind with no sign of remorse, like a praying mantis. Mister Wolf was one of those countless suitors. His family business was very prosperous, and he had no heirs.

To top it off, he was almost 100 years old, so his inevitable demise was just around the corner. What a perfect candidate to marry. She’d just had to wait for a little bit and then live lapped in luxury for the rest of her life. After the wedding, they were meant to meet at the Wild Rose Hotel to monumentalize their bond. Madelaine checked in to the aforementioned hotel and started waiting for her target.

Hours went past with no sign of him. Horribly bored, she was looking for something to distract herself. Her gaze got fixed on an antique piano in her room. Nicely convenient! She made herself comfortable and started playing. The entrancing melody filled the room. Hours went past, days, years... Her betrothed never showed up. Guests who now come to the hotel can still sometimes hear the quiet echo of the piano playing in the vast halls of the mansion.

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