“Judy Dean isn’t just the girlfriend of Tom Massot,” Lazard said. “She was also the mistress of Pierre Massot. Or should I say, one of them.” His lip curled with disdain. “But she stuck around longer than most. Pierre bought her an apartment on rue des Cloches. Promoted her. He was the only reason Judy kept her job. Now that the kid looks like his father, she’s banging him too.” He smiled nastily.

“Let me get this straight. She screwed the father and the son?”

Lazard nodded.

Stockton grinned broadly. “Fucking beautiful. Did the wife know?”

“She knew about her husband. That’s why Sophie fired her.”

“And the kid?”

Lazard shrugged. “The kid’s a selfish little prick who threw a tantrum over mama taking his slot. I don’t know if they’re even talking.”

Stockton chuckled. “Wonder how she feels about her possible daughter-in-law. Or does the son ask what the dad was like in bed?” He smirked. “The press will have a field day. I can’t wait to see these hoity-toity aristos dropped in the shit. House Massot? More like the Addams family.”

“We can do better than that. Let’s play it smart.”

“Go on.”

“Call the Massot kid. He’s so concerned about his precious family name; tell him we’ll publish this whole affair unless he withdraws all lawsuits and signs off on a statement of support for us and the direction of the company. A real kiss-up statement. I’ll write it myself.”

“I like it.”

“And then we call the wife. And Montfort. Tell them to wind up their little rhinestone business unless she wants her boy’s name dragged through the mud.”

Stockton’s eyes sparkled. “Not bad, you devious little fucker.”

“And as soon as that’s done, we spill the beans on Judy’s affair anyway,” Lazard said, exultantly. He thought of Sophie’s expression, that proud bitch, as she’d fired him. He would enjoy humiliating her. He’d make sure to turn the knife, too.

“We’ll call a press conference. Announce that that’s why we’re firing Judy Dean. Go into detail. Have employees available to give background interviews on the record.”

“Perfect. Let’s do it.” Stockton nodded at Lazard. The little toad might just turn out to be a good hiring decision after all. “Call Tom Massot right away. Let’s see these stuck-up bastards dancing to our tune for once.”

Lazard kissed the tips of his fingers. “My pleasure.”