"Wright's been meeting frequently with a vice president of Winslow Group," I said, sliding the dossier across the desk. "This is the channel they've been using to pass messages privately."
I'd gotten the information by greasing the right palm—a former driver from the Winslow household.
Theodore studied the documents, his fingertip tapping lightly against the paper. "Reliable?"
"Take it or leave it." I met his gaze evenly. "I only hand you the blade. How you use it is your call."
He looked up, and something like appreciation flickered in those always-guarded eyes. "That's enough."
With my support, Theodore's influence grew like creeping ivy—silent, steady, inescapable. I managed the household, cultivated ties with factions discontented with Wright, and even used my understanding of Is
