The autumn wind whipped through Central Park. Sophie Laurent sat on a bench, her hands clenched in her lap. A few feet away, Leo, now a toddler, played in the leaves. Hovering over him like a dark cloud was Lady Beatrice Croft.
“Look at you,” Beatrice cooed, handing Leo an imported wooden toy far too expensive for a park playdate. “You look just like your father. Such a shame he isn’t here.”
“William is busy with the wedding planning,” Sophie said, trying to intercept. “He wanted to come.”
Beatrice ignored Sophie entirely. She leaned down, whispering directly into Leo’s ear. “Daddy is sick with sadness, Leo,” she murmured, planting the seeds of the lie. “He doesn’t have time for you anymore. And Sophie… well, she isn’t your real mommy, is she? She’s just a visitor.”
“Stop it,” Sophie hissed, stepping forward.
Beatrice straightened up, her eyes flashing cold steel. “Careful, Ms. Laurent,” she warned. “Remember who holds your leash. One wrong move, and the world sees the dossier. Leave the back door unlocked next Tuesday. I want to take my great-grandson to the zoo.”
Sophie watched her walk away, realizing she was trapped in a blackmail scheme that was slowly severing her bond with the child she loved.