Lady Beatrice sat at her antique desk in the East Wing, attempting to transfer funds to her private investigator. She typed her password.
*ACCESS DENIED.*
She frowned and tried again.
*ACCOUNT FROZEN. CONTACT ADMINISTRATOR.*
“What is the meaning of this?” Beatrice hissed, reaching for the phone.
“I wouldn’t bother calling the bank.”
Malcolm Fotheringham stood in the doorway. He was leaning against the frame, holding an apple, looking utterly relaxed.
“What have you done?” Beatrice demanded, standing up. “My personal accounts are untouchable.”
“Nothing is untouchable when you hold the power of attorney for the entire estate,” Malcolm said, taking a bite of the apple. “I flagged your accounts for ‘suspicious activity.’ Apparently, there have been large, undocumented payments to blackmailers over the last year. I thought it prudent to freeze them to protect the family legacy.”
Beatrice went pale. She realized he knew about the money she had paid to Sophie’s father–and the hush money for the “Subject B” adoption.
“You are a monster,” Beatrice whispered.
“I’m a quick learner,” Malcolm smiled coldly. “I learned from the woman who erased me.”