The meeting with Soren Blackwell took place in a neutral location—a private dining room at one of the capital's more discrete establishments.
When Grim arrived, he found the financial manager already waiting, his usual composure notably absent.
"Lord Ambrose," Blackwell said, rising from his seat with obvious nervousness. "Thank you for agreeing to meet on such short notice."
"Of course," Grim replied, settling into the chair across from him. "You seemed to indicate the matter was urgent."
Blackwell's hands trembled slightly as he reached for his wine glass. "I... I received some information that suggested continued resistance might prove... costly."
"Oh?" Grim asked with mild interest. "What kind of information?"
Blackwell's face had gone pale. "Someone sent me detailed records of my son's academic performance, along with documentation of certain personal arrangements that I believed were private."
