Chapter 176
Chapter 176:
Rose nodded, gesturing to the chair across from her. “Thank you for coming, Mr. Reed.”
“Your message said you had information about Camille Kane and Alexander Pierce,” he said, getting straight to business. “Something that would ‘shock New York society.’”
“I do.” Rose removed the memory drive from her purse and placed it on the table. “These photos were taken three days ago on Mr. Pierce’s private yacht.” Reed picked up the drive, turning it in his fingers with caution.
“And you obtained these how?”
“That’s not important,” Rose replied smoothly. “What matters is their authenticity. They’re completely unaltered. Your technical team can verify that.”
“And what do you want in exchange for this… exclusive?”
Rose leaned forward slightly. “Two things. First, complete anonymity. I was never here. We never met. You found the drive in your mailbox from an unknown source.”
Reed nodded. This was standard procedure for tabloid bombshells.
“Second,” Rose continued, “I want you to include certain… context in your reporting.”
“What kind of context?”
Rose withdrew a sealed envelope from her purse. “Background information about Mr. Pierce’s business dealings. His history of using personal relationships for corporate gain. The convenient timing of this affair with Ms. Kane’s sudden rise to power at Kane Industries.”
Reed’s eyes narrowed. “You’re suggesting Pierce is using Kane to get to Victoria’s company?”
“I’m not suggesting anything,” Rose said innocently. “I’m simply providing context that your readers might find… illuminating.”
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Reed took the envelope, weighing it in his hand. “If these photos are what you say they are, this will be front-page news. Online within the hour.”
“I would expect nothing less,” Rose replied. “The public deserves to know when the acting CEO of one of New York’s largest companies is compromised by a personal relationship with a known competitor.”
After Reed departed, Rose remained at the table, ordering lunch she had no intention of eating. Her appetite had been replaced by a buzzing excitement. She checked her watch: 11:47. In thirteen minutes, the first photos would hit The Spectator’s website.
Her phone buzzed with a text from Herod: Financial documents delivered to WSJ and Bloomberg. Contacts confirm they’re following up.
Rose smiled. Perfect timing. She replied: Photos delivered to Spectator. Expect them online by noon.
At exactly 12:01, the headline appeared:
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