The next morning, I headed to my office. The morning air smelled like victory- though I had mixed feelings, I felt satisfied that I was finally going to make Beatrice pay for all she did to me.
I sat across from Mr. Reynolds, my lawyer, who wore a mix of disbelief and cautious admiration. The folder on my desk contained the proof we’d been searching for.
Beatrice had been the mastermind behind the scandal, pulling the strings of deceit with payments traced to several media houses and gossip blogs. Bank statements and emails were all there in black and white.
“Honestly, Stella,” Mr. Reynolds said, folding his hands on the desk, this is defamation and Beatrice has no chance against us in court, I don’t understand why you are not taking any action against her.”
I leaned back in my chair,
