THIRD PERSON POV
The restaurant was quieter now, the laughter fading as the night deepened. Beatrice sat alone in her corner booth, the same drink still untouched before her. Her lips curved into a thin smile as she scrolled through her phone, her mind racing with the opportunity she'd just uncovered.
Instead of messaging Diana, her fingers hovered over another name... Mrs. Camilla Langley.
" Ma'am, there's something important I need to discuss with you. It's urgent." Beatrice texted in a hurry
She barely had time to set the phone down before it buzzed again, an incoming call from the woman herself.
Beatrice straightened, smoothing her blouse and lowering her voice. "Good evening, ma'am."
Camilla's voice came through cold and cutting. "What is the meaning of this nonsense, Beatrice? You bypass Diana to contact me directly? Do you realize what kind of line you just crossed?"
Beatrice swallowed hard but forced a small, respectful tone. "Ma'am, I understand this is unusual, but the matter concerns you more than Mrs. Diana. I thought it best to come to you directly before word spreads."
There was a pause on the other end , brief, but heavy. Then Camilla's voice softened slightly, curiosity edging through the chill. "You have ten seconds to convince me this isn't a waste of my time."
Beatrice leaned closer, lowering her tone to a conspiratorial whisper. "It's about your stepson… Ace Langley. And the girl, Sharon."
The silence on the other end stretched.
Camilla's next words were measured, almost calm, the kind of calm that made people nervous. "Go on."
Beatrice hesitated, knowing the bait had been taken. "I saw them tonight. Together. She was drunk, and he came rushing over to take her home. And from the way he looked at her, ma'am… it's not just casual concern. It's something more."
Camilla exhaled slowly, the sound sharp like a blade drawn from its sheath. "All these are things I already know but are you certain?"
Beatrice nodded, even though the woman couldn't see her. "Yes, ma'am. I also found out something else tonight, something about your husband."
That earned a longer silence.
Camilla's voice dropped an octave, cold and dangerous now. "My husband?"
Beatrice smiled faintly, sensing the shift. "Yes, ma'am. Sharon met with Mr. Victor earlier today. For a company deal, but… he told her he liked her. That he wanted her."
A sharp intake of breath. Then Camilla's voice returned, slow and deliberate. "He said that to her?"
"Yes, ma'am."
For a moment, all Beatrice heard was quiet... the soft, steady hum of power building on the other end of the line. Then Camilla said, "You've done well to tell me this, Beatrice. From now on, you'll report to me directly. Not Diana. Understood?"
Beatrice smiled, her plan working perfectly. "Yes, ma'am."
"Good," Camilla said, her voice returning to its cold authority. "Now disappear. No one must know about this conversation. Especially Diana."
The line went dead.
Beatrice sat back, exhaling a shaky laugh. She picked up her drink and swirled it lazily, the ice clinking softly.
"Looks like I've just earned myself a new queen," she murmured.
But somewhere deep down, a flicker of unease twisted in her gut because when it came to the Langleys, even loyalty came with a price.
The phone call with Beatrice ended with a soft hum on Camilla Langley's lips. She stood by her window for a while, her reflection staring back at her like a stranger she didn't recognize anymore. Then, she turned and walked down the long hall toward the study... his study.
Victor sat by the open window, glasses perched low on his nose, a cigar smoldering quietly on the ashtray beside him. His favorite scotch gleamed amber under the light, half-empty. The air smelled of smoke, arrogance, and silence.
Camilla stood by the door for a while, watching him. He didn't bother looking up. He just flipped a page of his book, the scratch of paper the only sound in the room.
When she finally moved closer, her heels clicked once, twice. She stopped beside his chair and then she crossed her arms and leaned against the desk, her presence suddenly capturing his attention but Victor didn't move.
"Woman, if you have something to say, then say it," he muttered, his voice low and rough.
"How has work been?" she asked softly.
That made him look up. For a second, surprise flickered in his eyes, then turned into a smirk.
"This is new," he said, swirling his drink. "You never ask that."
Camilla's smile didn't waver.
"I suppose I've been distracted lately," she replied, her tone smooth as silk.
"You know, Victor," she began, tracing her fingers along the edge of his desk, "I've been thinking… perhaps that little girl disturbing Aec, what's her name again? Sharon, right? Perhaps she's been getting a bit too comfortable around you."
Victor's eyes flicked up from his book, expression unreadable.
"What are you implying?"
She shrugged.
"I'm saying people talk. They notice things. A woman like that could become inconvenient."
She let the word linger in the air, then added softly,
"Maybe it's best to cut her loose before she becomes a liability."
Victor's gaze hardened.
"She's not a liability."
Camilla raised a brow.
"No? Because if the board or the press ever got a whiff of anything about Aec's relationship..."
"Enough," he cut in, his tone sharp this time. "I'll handle her... Leave her out of your games."
For a heartbeat, silence thickened between them. Then, slowly, Camilla's lips curved into a small, knowing smile.
"Interesting," she murmured. "You defend her."
Victor frowned, realizing too late that he'd walked straight into her trap.
Camilla turned away, her voice calm and almost sweet as she said,
"That's all I needed to know."
Then, with that satisfied smile still touching her lips, she sat down opposite him, and her tone shifted silk turning to steel.
"Now tell me, Victor… just how deep are you in with this woman?"
He raised a brow.
She tilted her head, her eyes sharp now.
"Yes, Victor. Like the one where you mix business with pleasure."
Victor froze for a heartbeat. Then he gave a short laugh and looked away.
"You've been listening to gossip again. I told you before, Camilla, the boardroom and the bedroom are two different arena's."
She took a step closer, close enough to smell the liquor on his breath.
"Are they?" she asked quietly. "Because from what I heard, you seem to be crossing those arenas quite often these days."
Victor looked up sharply this time, meeting her gaze head-on.
"And what exactly did you hear?"
Camilla's lips curved, but her eyes stayed cold.
"That you've taken an interest in that woman."
He said nothing, but his silence was louder than a confession.
She leaned forward, resting her hand lightly on the table between them.
"Tell me, Victor. Is it true?"
He exhaled slowly, setting the glass down.
"You're being dramatic, Camilla. She's just a ..."
"A girl you're ruining?" she finished for him.
He flinched.
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Then Camilla straightened, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her sleeve.
"You should be careful, Victor," she said, her voice smooth again. "You think you're playing with a nobody, but this… this could cost you more than your reputation."
"Are you threatening me now?"
She smiled faintly.
"No, darling. I'm reminding you. Everything you touch, you stain. And this time, I won't clean up after you."
She turned and walked toward the door, her perfume lingering behind her.
Before stepping out, she paused.
"Oh, and Victor…" she said without turning around. "If you plan on meeting her again at least make sure your son doesn't read about it in the papers."
Then she left, leaving him alone with his cigar and silence, staring at the door long after it closed.