High above the city, the phone on the mahogany desk buzzed. Malcolm was in the boardroom, dismantling the charity division, leaving his private cell unguarded.
Seraphina Rivers, the “Survivor” who had talked her way into the inner circle, picked it up. The screen flashed: *ONE NEW VOICEMAIL – BELLA.*
Seraphina pressed play.
*”Malcolm… it’s Bella. I’m in New York. I tried to come up, but your new assistant blocked me. Please, call me. It’s not about us. It’s about… I have something to tell you. Something that changes the succession. Please.”*
Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. “Succession.” That meant a baby. An heir.
If Malcolm found out he had a child, he might soften. He might reconcile with Isabella. And if he reconciled with Isabella, he wouldn’t need a “public face” like Seraphina to distract the press.
“Sorry, Bella,” Seraphina whispered. “This seat is taken.”
She pressed *DELETE*. Then she went into the blocked caller list and added Isabella’s number, creating a digital firewall around the man she viewed as her meal ticket.