Of course she had to see Sophie. See that wedding ring, every day. Watch Sophie take ownership here, in Pierre’s place; Judy’s love, the man who had never cared two straws for Sophie. That was bitter, and time did not make it any better. Every day that Sophie Massot came here, impeccably, quietly elegant, asserting her rights, was another day that part of Judy died.

On the other hand, she knew, she had never had such an opportunity. The stupid, spoiled bitch liked her. Of all the people in the world, Sophie was giving Judy the chance to be revenged on those who had scorned her, muttered about her, laughed at her, kept her down. It was through Sophie that she had finally got rid of Giles and was running the divison, at last. Through Sophie that she got the money Gregoire had cheated her of. The fact that she no longer had to run the gauntlet of stares was wonderful. Judy was feared, and she triumphed, savagely, in her new power.

But even the triumph had a bitter edge. Judy had longed to head the division for so long, and now she could not care less about it. What joy was there in heading PR when Sophie had the whole company? What pleasure in being a senior vice president if Pierre’s wife was chairman?

She hated Sophie for it. Achieving her dreams, and finding them ashes.

Judy didn’t know, yet, exactly what she was going to do. But she knew what she wanted. Money, real money, a slice of what everybody else was getting. Power, not just being the head of some stupid division, reporting to Sophie. She would not rest until Sophie Massot respected her, as an equal. No, Judy thought: a superior. She was not about to put herself on the level of some placid fool of a woman who had married for money, a woman who’d had Pierre next to her all those years and never let him touch her heart.

Lastly, of course, she wanted revenge. She had suffered humiliation for too long to turn the other cheek. Enough of all that; nobody would pity Judy Dean anymore.

Sophie was about to reveal her plans. And then Judy would decide what to do with them.

She thought she already had a pretty good idea. There was one person who would, most definitely, be in the market for that sort of information.

Hugh Montfort.

Chapter 23

Chapter 23

Heinrich Brandt sat next to his wife, Gertrud, and tried not to look as nervous as he felt.