Page 56 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

I inhale slowly, my fingers pressing into the desk. “Who’s attending?”

Olivia flips through her notes. “Four of the key board members who are already leaning in Eleanor’s direction. A few financial backers who aren’t thrilled about the recent scandal. And, most importantly,whoever Eleanor is planning to install as CEO.”

I lean back, rubbing my jaw. “She’s trying to lock in support before we can counter.”

Olivia nods. “Exactly. If she gets enough people behind her, by the time we make our move, it’ll be too late.”

I grip the edge of my desk. “We need to find out who she’s backing. If we don’t know our opponent, we’re fighting blind.”

Olivia leans forward. “That’s the thing, I have a name.”

I sit up straighter. “Who?”

She slides a slip of paper across the desk. I glance down, and my stomach drops. Daniel Whitmore.

I let out a slow exhale. “Of course.” Daniel is old money, Ivy League educated, and aPerfectly Matchedlegacy client, his parents used the service decades ago to secure one of the most high-profile society marriages in the country. He’s everythingEleanor values: polished, respected, and completely lacking a soul.

I glance back up at Olivia. “Does Margot know?”

“Not yet. I wanted to tell you first.”

I nod, already reaching for my phone. “Then let’s make sure we control the narrative before Eleanor does.”

By the timeI step into Margot’s office, she’s already pacing behind her desk, phone in hand.

She doesn’t look at me right away, but I can see the tension in the way her fingers grip the edge of her desk, the way her brows furrow as she scrolls through whatever news alert just hit.

“You heard,” I say. It’s not a question.

Margot exhales sharply, tossing her phone onto the desk. “Daniel Whitmore.”

I nod. “Eleanor’s chosen puppet.”

She crosses her arms, biting her lower lip, a habit I know she does when she’s thinking ten steps ahead. “He’s exactly the kind of candidate the board will eat up. No scandals, no emotional ties, just business.”

I step closer. “But he doesn’t knowPerfectly Matchedlike we do. He doesn’t have the relationships we’ve built. He doesn’t understand what makes this companywork.”

Margot finally looks at me, her blue eyes sharp. “Then we have to make sure they remember that.”

I nod, but before I can respond, my phone buzzes in my pocket. I pull it out and glance at the screen.

Cassian. Of course.

I put it on speaker. “Laurent.”

“Ah,King.” Cassian’s voice is pure amusement. “You’ll be delighted to know that your matchmaking client is currently trying to fire me.”

Margot blinks. “Isabella?”

“Who else?” Cassian sighs dramatically. “Apparently, she doesn’t appreciate myconstructive criticismabout her unrealistic dating expectations.”

Margot pinches the bridge of her nose. “Please tell me you didn’t say something offensive.”

Cassian hums thoughtfully. “I may havelightlysuggested that dating someone outside of Hollywood might introduce her to the wild concept of emotional depth.”

I snort. “You basically called her shallow.”

Cassian sighs. “She took itpersonally.”

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