The staff outside his office appear sheepish. As I approach the frosted glass door, Stuart comes out looking like he’s just witnessed an unhappy CEO.
‘Hi, Stuart.’
Those familiar eyes soften. ‘Hi, Scarlett.’ His voice betrays his disheartened mood and gives me a small insight into what’s waiting behind the door.
Gregory is pacing, the tails of his blazer pushed back by his hands in his pockets, his tie looser than usual at his neck, hair out of place like he’s dragged his fingers through it. Even the air in the room is tense.
‘Close the door,’ he snaps.
I do so, taking steps into the middle of the office.
‘You were right,’ he says, pausing but facing out to the city. ‘It’s Nick fucking Henshaw.’
I nod but don’t speak.
‘Stuart swears he has nothing to do with it. Says he’s never heard of Nick or Francis.’
‘Do we believe him?’
‘He swore on his mother’s life. That’s not something a man does lightly.’
I venture forward now, taking a seat in the chair opposite Gregory’s desk. The black leather is still warm. No doubt Stuart got a thorough dressing-down. Most likely a threat on his life if he so much as thinks about crossing Gregory.
Gregory laughs now, sardonically, and strokes his forefinger and thumb along his jawline, his other hand still resting on his hip. ‘He wants a payout.’
I had suspected as much but I let him speak.
‘Three fucking million. Three. Fucking. Million. It’s nothing to do with the fucking game.’
‘He wants money because you forced him to resign.’
‘Fucking prick.’
‘I had a feeling that would be the case once I realised it was him. The way he spoke at the gala, he?—’
‘Well, fucking marvellous, Scarlett. When the fuck were you going to share that feeling with me?’
I stand abruptly from my chair.
‘Attitude check, Ryans. Right the hell now! Or you can stare at my back as I walk out of this office and leave you in the shit.’
He turns from the window and opens his mouth to protest. He doesn’t apologise but he does move to sit into his desk chair opposite me, putting us on the same level when I sit, too.
‘I’ve been thinking about it all morning,’ I say calmly.
‘I’m all ears.’ His tone is as tame as I suspect this hungry lion is going to get.
‘Stuart created the game. If we believe he isn’t involved, he still has certain unregistered intellectual property rights.’
‘Does that help us?’
‘Absolutely, so long as we can prove it. If Nick’s demanding money, it tells me he doesn’t really wantBlack Diamonds. If he wanted to set up alone and put a new game on the market, he would; he has the knowledge to do it. He’s trying to threaten you that he can use whatever version ofBlack Diamondshe has to eat into yourJail Runprofits. He’ll know that’s whyyouwantedBlack Diamonds.’
‘I think I’m following.’ Given the speed the words are leaving my mouth, that’s nothing short of a miracle. ‘He thinks the threat of him having the game on the market is worth three million pounds to me.’
‘Right. So let’s call his bluff. Let’s make it so he doesn’t have the threat of takinghis Black Diamondsto market. Then he has nothing on you.’
Gregory’s eyes widen and he sits a little straighter in his chair. ‘How do we do that?’
