Sophie Laurent sat on a velvet chair in the drawing room of the Croft Manor estate, her hands trembling in her lap. She was drowning in student debt and medical bills for her father, a desperation that Lady Beatrice Croft had smelled like blood in the water.
“Isabella Rossi was a sentimental fool,” Beatrice said, pacing in front of the fireplace. “She protected William. She hid his incompetence.”
Beatrice stopped and looked down at Sophie. “I manipulated the agency list to ensure you were the only viable candidate, Ms. Laurent. Because I need eyes inside that penthouse.”
“I… I just want to take care of the child,” Sophie stammered. “Isabella said he was lonely.”
“The child is the Heir,” Beatrice corrected sharply. “And his father is a broken man. I am preparing a custody petition. I need proof that William is unfit. I need proof of his depression, his neglect, his instability.”
She handed Sophie a check. It was enough to pay off her debts twice over.
“You work for me now,” Beatrice hissed. “Send me daily reports on his schedule and his mental state. If he is failing as a father, I need to know.”
Sophie looked at the check, then at the formidable woman who held her future in her hands. She felt the trap snap shut. She nodded slowly.