Later that night, William found Lady Beatrice sitting in the conservatory, staring at the orchids. She looked different–less like the terrified woman who had vomited in the garden, and more like the Matriarch who had run the family for a decade.
“You didn’t save that boy,” Beatrice said quietly.
“I couldn’t,” William replied. “If I fought him, he would have won. I have to pick my battles.”
Beatrice nodded. “You have your father’s patience, William. But you have my conscience.” She looked around to ensure they were alone, then leaned in.
“He keeps a ledger,” she whispered.
William froze. “What?”
“In Zurich,” Beatrice revealed. “He ran the Syndicate from a chalet in the mountains. He kept a physical book–a leverage ledger. Names, dates, bribes, the details of the ‘kidnapping’ plot. He trusts no one, not even computers. If you want to destroy him, you don’t need a lawyer. You need that book.”
William looked at her, realizing the magnitude of the gift. The “Victim” had just handed him the weapon.