Monday morning arrived like a slap.
No slow start. No buffer of calm. Just fallout.
Isabelle was in her office by 7:45 a.m., the sun not even fully up, her coffee scalding and untouched. She had barely opened her inbox when Lila burst in like a controlled fire.
“Don’t panic,” Lila said, which, of course, meant panic was appropriate. She slapped her tablet onto the desk and pointed to the glowing headline.
From Debutante to CEO: How Celeste Bennett’s Daughter Quietly Built a Children’s Empire—With a Little Help From Home
Isabelle’s stomach sank.
She scrolled, scanning the byline—one of those legacy reporters who fawned over pedigree and believed success was inherited like a trust fund.
The first paragraph read like flattery. A soft-focus profile. Pictures of the Bennett estate from t
