Neville tapped on the play prompt on his phone hurriedly, but what they saw was utterly shocking.
They wouldn't have guessed, not by a long shot, the image that graced their screen.
Mr. & Mrs. Ashford recording themselves.
A soft voice bled in from offscreen, left in on purpose. "We'll keep it gentle," Lila said. "Timing TBD —will follow the Blackwood's gala" The video cut jumped,"She is good," Mrs. Ashford said. "She is good."
Then the screen froze on her face, eyes bright, her mouth about to add a sentence they might never hear.
A bold slate slammed over the image, tabloid-bright:KITCHEN CONTEXT: HOW ASHLEY MADE MRS. BLACKWOOD.
Brooke swore under her breath. "My God! Who did this? They're not even trying to hide where the blow lands next. This is so low."
She fumed in righteous indignation.
Neville's voice stayed even. "Dubious heading, clean cut. No voiceover, so they'll let the subscribers do the whole slander."
Brooke took it back five seconds, frame-by-frame. "Do you hear that bed of sound under Lila? Like a room tone that isn't the kitchen?"Neville cocked his head. "She's obviously not there with them, clever."
"So L.V Outreach isn't working from a desk," Brooke said. "They're moving."
"Sender?" Neville asked.
"Unknown number"Brooke replied absentmindedly.
Neville kept the phone on the table. "Two possibilities. A personal vendetta with Ashley and Julian, or a corporate dispute that got personal. Which do you want to argue for?"
"I can argue both," Brooke responded, because she could.
"Vendetta looks like this," she pointed towards the card, the 'friend' joke, and the timing of the release. This person knows Julian's moves, all about the black tie event, and that this is the first time Ashley would attend as his wife and wants to humiliate them publicly."
"Not just wife," Neville said, tapping the screen. "Her parents. This goes deeper than corporate, this is someone holding a personal grudge."
"This is why I hate this more," Brooke said quietly. "Corporate looks more like a competitor that would want him distracted, board pressure, hostile plays, messy headlines to reduce the price of shares . But they rarely touch the family. That's dirty business and so sinister."
Neville's mouth tipped. "Shit happens. But the handwriting here is tidy. That's almost worse."
"Which is why you're arguing vendetta?.""I'm arguing about capability," he responded . "Whoever this is, keeps sending the right wrong thing at the right time. They have taste, access, and manners.
They want the couple rattled and Ashley's name to carry the stain."
Brooke collapsed into the chair, the leather exhaling her tension.
"So, a former lover with a budget. Or a corporate competitor?""Or both," Neville said. Then added,
"They could be cooperating, to bring him and the company down."
"Effective.""Do we tell them?" Brooke asked, already hating the answer.
Neville looked at the paused frame again, Mrs. Ashford's face, mid-sentence. "Not yet."
"Say why," Brooke replied , because she needed reasons she could live with.
"Because right now all we have is a thirty-second clip and a watermark," Neville said.
"We can't stop a ghost. We need a lead, distribution path, platform, and legal choke point. If we tell them without a plan, Julian will burn the nearest building on principle and Ashley will carry that fire to her parents. No one wins.
"Brooke stared at the ugly headline again, nodding in agreement. "So what's the plan?"
"We figure out the real platform, we get the likely carriers' compliance teams on speed dial, GossipNet, Sleek, the syndicates. If 'S.V. Outreach' is white-listed, we get it de-listed."
"Two," Brooke said, catching the rhythm, " Legal protection.
We put a withdrawal of consent affidavit for Mr. & Mrs. Ashford before anyone asks them a question. Notarized, timestamped.
That gives us grounds for an injunction."
"And three," Neville added, "Honeytrap, We make S.V. show their hand. We send a courtesy note, per your message, please confirm the post-charity window and invoicing details, from a fresh account, salted with a tell only someone in their chain would recognize,See who bites."Brooke's mouth crooked. "You must be fun at parties."
"I leave before the police arrive," he said, returning the banter, while he quickly added "We should also call the concierge agency and make them decide if they prefer a Blackwood business or a client who writes on cream stock."
Brooke tapped her pen against the desk. "Exactly, I like the way you think. You beautiful, gorgeous, brilliant man, come here." She grabbed his head, smoldering him with kisses.He laughed, "you ain't bad yourself, either."
Brooke refused to be offended.
Neville held up a finger for each. " Besides personal vendetta group , we have other suspects. I don't trust Camilla and her camp. The board rivals, men who would want Julian humilated. Acquisition casualties, old grudges with new money. Fixers, anyone who sells scandal wholesale."
"And Charles?" Brooke asked. Neville didn't blink. "He's being used by them, he is a small fish."
"So we leave him for now?'" Brooke said."For now," Neville agreed.
"How many enemies does one man need," she whispered. Sincerely in awe of the list.
"As many as he made winning," Neville said.
They both looked back at the screen again. They paused at the kindness of a mother's face and the headline trying to turn it into a weapon.
Brooke exhaled hard. "Okay. Platform. Paper. Honeytrap."
"And Brooke," Neville said, as if changing subjects and not changing it at all, "Remember we said we would not mix pillow and briefs, can you see the irony of what is happening ? he smiled despite the news. "Who would have thought we'd be standing on the same side so soon. But If this turns…"
"We tell them," she finished the sentence for him.
"Yes."He nodded in agreement .
"We will, if we must."
They paid their bills, the whole unexpected clip souring their beautiful dinner, that was meant to celebrate. Effectively turning it into an investigative brainstorming session .