The article landed on his screen like a slap.
"SMITH FASHION'S NEW CEO ACCUSED OF TORMENTING CLASSMATE IN SHOCKING EXPOSÉ."
Regina's fifteen-year-old face glared back from a school photo with her eyeliner smudged, her mouth tilted in a smirk.
Daniel's pulse ticked.
Once. Twice.
He scrolled on his contact list and hit the number.
The line rang twice.
"Daniel," Victoria answered, "To what do I owe the early morning theatrics?"
"You know exactly why I'm calling. Don't piss me off."
"Oh, darling," she purred. "You'll need to narrow that down. I've done many delightful things lately."
"You leaked it."
"That depends," she replied, "on what it is."
"Don't play dumb with me."
"Careful," she warned lightly. "You're speaking to the only woman capable of saving that company from imploding."
"You fed that story to the press."
"Let's just say it came to me wrapped like a gift. All I had to do was tug the ribbon."
