Alpha's Private Plaything (Elsa and Drake Stone) novel Chapter 117

Alpha’s Private Plaything

Chapter 117

The receptionist fidgeted with her pen. “He’s actually leaving directly

for the mixer from his current location. And after that, he has…

personal plans.” She lowered her voice. “Maybe you could call

tomorrow for an appointment?”

“Where’s the mixer?” I asked instead, my mind already calculating

angles and approaches.

She hesitated. “The Grand Hotel ballroom. But it’s invitation only.”

I was already heading for the door. “Thank you for your help.”

Wilson thinks he can shake me by hiding behind “invitation only”

events? Fucking amateur hour. I’ve crashed bigger parties than this.

I showed my Stone Industries credentials at the door and was

admitted without question. Too damn easy. The ballroom was

crowded with the city’s business elite, mingling over cocktails and

appetizers. I spotted Wilson near the bar, now engaged in what

appeared to be a heated discussion with a woman in an expensive

black dress.

I kept to the edges of the room, observing without drawing attention.

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Chapter 117

Know your prey before you strike. As I moved closer, I could hear

fragments of their conversation.

“-can’t believe you would do this to your own brother,” the woman

was saying, her voice tight with anger. “Owen, you have no humanity!

First you lie to your own brother, and now-”

“Lower your voice, Margaret,” Wilson hissed, glancing around

nervously. “This isn’t the place.”

“When is the place?” she demanded. “At home, where you ignore me?

Or at the office, where you pretend I don’t exist?”

Well, well, well. Family drama. How fucking delicious. My pulse quickened as I sensed opportunity. Nothing made people more vulnerable than personal scandal, and vulnerability was exactly what

I needed right now.

I circulated through the crowd, picking up bits of gossip. Apparently, Margaret Wilson was Owen’s sister–in–law, married to his older brother and business partner. According to the whispers, there was

trouble brewing in the Wilson family business, with accusations of

embezzlement and mismanagement flying.

Even more interesting was a rumor that Owen’s brother had been caught in a compromising position with a female student from Twin

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Moon University. A scandal that could potentially damage the

family’s reputation if it became public.

Jackpot. My mind raced with possibilities, a heady mix of excitement

and calculation flooding my system. If I play this right, Wilson will

be begging to sign our agreement.

I approached Margaret Wilson after Owen stormed off, introducing

myself as a journalist working on a piece about family businesses.

Sorry, honey, but you’re my ticket to getting what I need.

“Mrs. Wilson, I couldn’t help overhearing,” I said, my voice

sympathetic while my mind worked coldly. “Family businesses can be so complicated, can’t they? Especially when personal issues spill over

into professional relationships.”

Margaret looked suspicious but didn’t walk away. “Who did you say

you work for?”

“I’m freelance,” I lied smoothly, feeling a perverse thrill at how easily

the deception came. If Drake could see me now, he’d either be proud

or terrified. “But I’m working on a feature about the challenges of

family–run companies. Your family’s business is quite successful,

despite the recent… tensions.”

Her eyes widened. “What do you know about that?”

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Chapter 117

I leaned in slightly. “I know your brother–in–law has been making

some questionable financial decisions. And I know about your

husband’s indiscretion with the university student.” Got you by the

short hairs now, don’t I?

Margaret’s face paled. “That’s–that’s private family business.”

“For now,” I agreed, a predatory satisfaction unfurling in my chest.

“But these sorts of scandals have a way of becoming public, especially

when there’s money involved.” I glanced at my tablet, pretending to

make notes. “A scandal like this could be devastating for your

company’s reputation, don’t you think?”

Christ, I’m turning into Drake. When did I become this person? The

fleeting thought was quickly drowned by the rush of gaining the

upper hand.

Margaret reached for my tablet, her face contorted with panic. “No!

You can’t publish that! Delete it right now. Who gave you permission

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