The private tea room at the Plaza was empty, reserved exclusively for a meeting of vipers. Cynthia Sharpe sat opposite Lady Beatrice Croft. On the table between them lay a manila folder containing Sophie’s financial records and the agreement with the agency.
“The girl is compromised,” Cynthia said, sipping her tea. “She’s fallen in love with him. She won’t send you the dirt you need for custody.”
“I am aware,” Beatrice replied, her voice icy. “She is weak. Just like his mother was.”
“But her weakness is our weapon,” Cynthia leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with the intent of “The Exploiter”. “William is planning something big. He’s happy. If we expose her now, he might forgive her. But if we wait… if we humiliate him publicly just as he thinks he’s won… he will never trust anyone again. And you will get your great-grandson by default.”
Beatrice tapped a finger on the dossier. “What do you propose?”
“The Season Finale of ‘The Luna Search’ is next week,” Cynthia smiled dangerously. “Live television. Millions of viewers. I want to reveal the spy in front of the world. I want to break him on stage.”
Beatrice considered this. It was cruel. It was destructive. It was perfect.
She slid the dossier across the table. “Do it.”