Chapter 88: A Mother’s Gambit
Mrs. Blackwood’s POV
I smoothed the lines of my fitted blue dress as I entered the private salon via creaking huge wood doors. Only a solitary, low-hanging chandelier and the gentle warmth of the fireplace illuminated the shadowed area. Maxwell Grayson was sitting close to the fireplace, leaning back in his chair with a smug smile pulling at his lips.
"You’re late," he said, swishing a brandy glass.
"I’m here, aren’t I?" With a purposeful thump, I placed my handbag on the table in response. I crossed my legs and sat down opposite him. "Let's get started. We cannot afford to squander time.
Leaning forward, Grayson laughed. "Direct and to the point. That's something I like about you, Mrs. Blackwood.
I didn't bother to answer. A guy like Grayson's flattery
