Page 81 of In A Mood For Mr. Wrong

54

GRAYSON

Eleanor King is coming for blood. The lawsuit is her last-ditch effort to sinkPerfectly Matched, and she’s not being subtle about it. It’s an all-out war and if she thinks I’m going to stand by while she tries to burn everything I’ve built? She’s about to learn just howruthlessI can be. ThePerfectly Matchedexecutive conference room is filled with a tense, simmering energy. The air is thick with the scent of strong coffee and barely contained frustration. Papers are spread across the sleek ebony conference table, highlighted documents, legal briefings, and projections stacked in a way that makes it painfully clear just how much damage Eleanor could cause if we don’t shut this lawsuit down, fast. Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city stretches out in its usual glittering chaos, but I barely register it. My focus is locked on the meeting unfolding in front of me.

Margot, seated beside me, is in full battle mode, her blue eyes sharp, her back straight, her fingers tapping impatiently against her tablet. Across from us, Olivia is flipping through her notes at lightning speed, speaking with the kind of no-nonsense authority that makes even seasoned board members nervous.

“I’ve analyzed the claim,” Olivia says, adjusting her glasses. “Eleanor isn’t just suing for wrongful removal, she’s demanding full reinstatement as CEOanda financial settlement for damages.”

Margot lets out a slow, disbelieving laugh. “She really hasno shame, does she?”

I grit my teeth. “No. And that’s what makes herdangerous.”

Cassian, sprawled in a chair at the head of the table, sips his espresso like we’re discussing theweather. “I have to say, I admire her audacity,” he muses. “She getspublicly ruined, loses everything, and still thinks she can talk her way back into power.Bold.”

Isabella, lounging beside him with one leg crossed over the other, smirks. “Remind me, am I supposed to beworried about her ordeeply entertained?”

Margot side-eyes them. “You two are disturbingly relaxed about this.”

Cassian grins. “That’s becauseIhave a plan.”

I sigh. “Why does that make me nervous?”

Margot mutters under her breath, “Because itshould.”

Cassian ignores us, setting down his coffee with a flourish. “Here’s what we do, we turn this into aspectaclebefore she has the chance to. She’s banking on the board panicking and wanting a settlement. Instead, we make it clear that a settlement isoff the table, she can fight this out publicly, andlose, or she can back down now.”

Olivia nods. “That could work. If we control the media narrative first, Eleanor won’t be able to position herself as avictim.”

Margot leans forward. “We need leverage. Somethingstrong enoughto make her reconsider dragging this out.”

Cassian smirks. “Then it’s a good thing I have avery interestingdocument sitting in my possession.”

I glance at him warily. “What kind of document?”

Cassian pulls out his phone, scrolling lazily. “A little something that proves Eleanor didn’t justhidefinancial discrepancies, she directlybenefitedfrom them. Offshore accounts. Unreported assets. Let’s just say, if the SEC takes an interest, she’ll havefarbigger problems than a wrongful termination case.”

Margot’s eyes widen slightly. “How did you get that?”

Cassian shrugs. “I haveresources.”

Isabella lifts a brow. “You meanshady connections?”

Cassian grins. “Potato, po-tah-to.”

I exhale sharply, rubbing my temple. “You could have led with that, Laurent.”

Cassian leans back, clearly enjoying himself. “But where’s thefunin that?”

Margot shakes her head. “Alright. So, we have leverage. Now we need to make sure she knows it.”

I nod. “Then we set up a meeting.”

The room is set.A private executive suite in one of the most high-end hotels in the city, neutral ground. The floor-to-ceiling windows offer a stunning view of the skyline, but the atmosphere inside is cold, clinical, and charged with tension. Eleanor walks inlike she owns the place, her emerald-green dress tailored to perfection, her expression a mask of calm control. But I see it, the flicker of uncertainty in her sharp gaze, the way her fingers tighten slightly around her designer clutch. She’snotuntouchable anymore, and she knows it. Margot sits beside me, poised and unflinching, while Cassian and Isabella lounge opposite us, their expressions unreadable. Olivia remainsstanding near the back, arms crossed, watching like she’s analyzing every micro expression Eleanor makes.

Eleanor takes her seat, smooths out a nonexistent wrinkle in her dress, then lifts her chin. “I assume you called this meeting tonegotiate.”

I smirk. “No. We called this meeting towarn you.”

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