Chapter 170

Victoria

The Lion’s Den was buzzing with its usual night crowd: young professionals winding down after work, clutching overpriced cocktails and laughing too loudly at jokes that weren’t funny. I nursed my gin and tonic. The ice had long melted, making the drink almost tasteless–just like my mood.

“You’re looking particularly murderous tonight,” Penelope said, sliding into the booth across from me. Her hair was perfect as always, not a strand out of place despite the humid evening. “Bad day at the office?”

“Bad week,” I corrected, watching as she signaled the waiter. “Bad month, Bad year, actually.”

“Vodka martini, extra dirty,” she ordered before turning back to me. “Let me guess, still stewing over your cousin and his little marketing wife?”

I shot her a withering look. “Your counteroffer idea was a complete waste, just as I suspected.”

“It was worth trying,” Penelope replied with a casual shrug, but I caught the flash of irritation in her eyes. She hated failing as much as I did.

The waiter returned with her martini, three olives pierced by a toothpick. Penelope plucked one off and popped it into her mouth before continuing.

“We’ve got so many options still on the table,” she said, leaning forward. “The Thompson account was just one approach. I have connections at several publications who’d love to run more stories about the gold–digging marketing exec who seduced her way to the top.”

“That angle might actually be working,” I admitted, swirling what remained of my drink. “I had lunch with my grandfather yesterday, and he mentioned seeing the article. He played it off, but I could tell it planted a seed of doubt.”

“Really?” Penelope brightened, taking a long sip of her martini. “Do tell.”

at the last

together. “I mean, I want it to be fake because I want Alexander back, but

woman for longer than it takes milk to expire, suddenly fell madly in love with some random employee right after being told he needs to marry to keep control of the

put it that

it doesn’t matter,” I continued, leaning closer. “I just need to create enough friction to break them apart. Once the board sees Alexander can’t maintain a

then you get the controlling power,” Penelope finished,

my designer handbag and pulled out

the phone and opened it to my photo gallery. The first image showed Olivia sitting at a bar, laughing at something James Westbrook

asked,

O’Malley’s. My source says they talked for

the next photo. Olivia and James were at a café table, coffee

between them,” I said. “James has always had

just talking. There’s no sexual tension, no furtive touching.” She handed the phone back to me. “Trust

looks a little too interested in

looks like someone having a business conversation,” Penelope

the photos. But there’s something off about their marriage, and I’m going to figure

Penelope said, finishing her martini and signaling for another. “Something

thinking the same thing,” I agreed, a slow smile spreading across my face. “And I might have just the

eyes gleaming

began, lowering my

with Penelope’s fresh martini, cutting me off. I waited impatiently as she thanked him,

of earshot, “we need

“Go on.”

beautiful women

“I’m more than happy

be strategic about this. The goal isn’t just to seduce him; it’s to create doubt in Olivia’s mind

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