“You have managed to cause a great deal of unnecessary noise today,” Margaret said, sitting down in the armchair opposite me without being asked.

“The noise was created by your son when he tried to erase my daughter,” I replied.

Margaret’s expression did not change.

She smoothed the lapel of her coat with a manicured hand.

“Adrian is impulsive,” Margaret said calmly. “He has always lacked the foresight required to manage a legacy of this scale.”

“He denied his own blood,” I said.

“He did,” Margaret agreed, her voice flat. “And that was a tactical error. But more importantly, it was a public relations disaster.”

She looked at Grace.

“The story your contacts are shopping to the business journals must be killed immediately.”

“That depends entirely on what you are prepared to offer,” Grace said, leaning back in her chair.

“I am prepared to offer a private trust for the child,” Margaret said.

She reached into her designer handbag and pulled out a single sheet of paper, sliding it across the desk toward Grace.

“A generous settlement. Five million dollars, managed by a trustee of my choosing, to be released when she turns twenty-five.”