“Raise the headline. Make sure the photo of Vania you use is the one that looks the least like a respectable woman.”

Madam Wiratama’s voice was calm but carried an authority that could silence an entire boardroom.

She sat behind her mahogany desk, surrounded by the quiet luxury of her private study — sunlight spilling through the tall windows, illuminating the perfectly trimmed rose garden outside.

“Yes, Madam,” replied the editor on the other end of the call. “We’ll prepare an exclusive report about Mr. Arga and Mrs. Vania.”

“Don’t call her Mrs., ” she interrupted sharply. “Write the ex-wife of businessman Devandra Montgomery. Let the public remember who she...