"What?! Are you joking?!" Madam Beckett glared at the tablet. "No demands? No paper trail of greed? Nothing?"
Alan shook his head once more.
"Damn it!"
The old woman clicked her tongue sharply, her jaw tight with irritation.
"What on earth could buy that kind of loyalty?"
Her voice dropped into a commanding, dangerous snap.
"Change our course, Alan. Forget the Headquarters. If I want answers, I'll just have to look these people in the eye myself!"
Meanwhile, back in his private quarters, Ryley leaned his head against the closed door, letting out a long, shuddering sigh.
"Your Highness? You look like you've seen a ghost," Mitchell murmured, studying the tense line of Ryley's shoulders. "What happened?"
"It's Miss Starla," Ryley said, pushing off the door and pacing the room. "She wants to launch her own perfume line in Germany. She just offered to buyout and transfer a specific line of my scientists out of the Japan branch."
