of roasted lamb and rosemary filled the air, a dinner meticulously prepared by their private chef-meant to be shared with Cedric at Le Jardin tonight. But the cancellation of the board

nd had been a spark; now, sh

ully crafted-a subtle leak about "irregularities" in Varnholt Enterprises' recent financial reports, hinting at overstated profits to lure investors. It wasn't a fatal blow, just enough to stir media buzz and raise eyebrows among shareholders. The files she'd copie

already alight with chatter-analysts questioning the company's stability, investors demanding transparency. It was chaos, but controlled c

He tossed his briefcase onto the couch, barely glancing at her. "What a disaster," he muttered, running

's happened?" she asked, her voice soft, the perfect imitation of the d

ng our numbers. It's baseless, of course, but the timing couldn't be worse. The investors are already on edge after your li

lmost playful. "I made a strategic call, Cedric. The board w

mess. I've spent all day putting out fires, and Marianne's been hounding me about rescheduling the meeti

ine. Oh, Cedric, you have no idea. "I'm sorry it's been such a rough day," she sa

ion softening slightly, as if

of hand." He sank into the chair across from her, loosening his collar. "We'

sweet but edged with something sharper. She leaned forward, her eyes locki

arb for jealousy. "Come on, Ellie. She's just trying to help. You kn

, her role in Eleanor's downfall. Eleanor's grip on her glass tightened, but her smile rem

incoming call. As he stepped away to answer it, Eleanor's gaze drifted to the t

aces scrutiny after reports of financial discrepancies. Sources su

h to avoid immediate legal repercussions but potent enough to rattle Cedric's carefully curated image. She watch

*

news reports with dread, not triumph. The gala on April 17, 2024, had been the

s. The investors had lapped it up, their whispers growing louder: "She's not cut out for this." "Cedric's the real leader." M

in ruins. She'd been too naive to see the setup, too trusting to question the numbers. The memory of her humili

*

nymore. She was the one pulling the strings, and the irony was delicious-Cedric, oblivious to her hand in the scandal, was scrambling to fi

r of chocolate tarts, untouched. She plated one, her movements deliberate, and returned to the table, h

liding the tart toward h

er leaked this knew exactly how to stir the pot." He took a bite of the tart, oblivious to

after all." The flattery was a mask, one she wore effortlessly. Inside, she was cataloging his every

nce against Cedric. The financial files she'd copied held more damning evidence-offshore accounts, siphoned funds-but she'd need Julian's expertise to expose th

rship. Cedric glanced at the screen, his jaw tightening, but he said nothing, his focus back on his phone. Eleanor w

er eyes. Cedric thought he was still in control, but he was wrong.

contin