Chapter 4 - WHAT CAMILA TOOK
I did not go alone.
I simply made sure Camila believed I had.
The address led to an old bakery warehouse in Queens that had been converted into private offices and artist studios.
Nothing about it looked connected to a luxury resort empire.
That was probably why she chose it.
David wanted two security officers beside me.
I refused.
Instead, they remained outside the building with instructions not to enter unless I triggered the emergency function on my phone.
My father did not know where I was.
That part of Camila’s instructions I followed.
Not because I trusted her.
Because for the first time, I wasn’t sure I trusted him with every piece of information either.
The realization hurt.
I walked up three flights of narrow stairs and found Camila waiting behind a glass door.
She had changed clothes.
My cashmere coat was gone.
So was the dress she had worn the night before.
She wore jeans, a gray sweater, and no makeup.
The emerald pendant still rested against her throat.
My anger returned instantly.
“Take that off.”
Her hand moved toward it.
Then stopped.
“I can’t.”
“That was not a request.”
“Elena.”
“Take it off.”
She unfastened the chain.
For one hopeful second, I thought she would hand it to me.
Instead, she placed it on the table between us.
“I was going to.”
“Going to what?”
“Return it.”
“You wore it while my husband threw me out.”
Her expression tightened.
“He told me you gave it to him.”
I almost laughed.
“And you believed that?”
“He told me a lot of things.”
“That does not make you innocent.”
“I know.”
That answer stopped me.
There was no excuse.
No performance.
No attempt to blame Julian for everything.
She knew exactly what I thought of her.
Good.
I sat across from her.
“Mateo Ruiz.”
She looked toward the windows.
“What did you find?”
“That he died in St. Lucia.”
“Anything else?”
“My name is on the internal approval.”
Her eyes closed.
“That’s what Julian said he would do.”
A chill moved through me.
“When?”
“Six years ago.”
“You knew?”
“I knew he was altering access logs.”
“Camila.”
My voice sharpened.
“A man died.”
“I didn’t know that at first.”
“What did you know?”
She sat.
“I worked for Julian before I worked for Meridian.”
That was not what I expected.
“What?”
“Red Birch wasn’t created eighteen months ago.”
“The registration says it was.”
“That version was.”
“What does that mean?”
“Julian had companies before Red Birch.”
“How many?”
She looked at me.
“Seven that I know of.”
My hands became cold.
“What were they used for?”
“Moving consulting fees.”
“From us?”
“Not at first.”
“Then from whom?”
“Developers.”
“Explain.”
Camila rubbed her hands together.
“Julian would identify distressed hospitality projects.”
“He would offer consulting?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“He would find weaknesses.”
“Financial?”
“Sometimes.”
“Legal?”
“Sometimes.”
“Then what?”
“He would position investors.”
“His investors?”
“Sometimes his father’s.”
Robert Cross.
The dead executive my grandfather had fired.
I leaned forward.
“Did you know his father?”
“No.”
“Then how do you know that?”
“Julian told me.”
“When?”
“Before you married him.”
I stared at her.
“How long have you known my husband?”
“Twelve years.”
Every number seemed to get worse.
“Twelve.”
“Yes.”
“You met him before I did.”
“Yes.”
I looked at the pendant.
“And you slept with him?”
“Not then.”
“When did that start?”
She hesitated.
“Two years ago.”
The receipt from St. Lucia flashed through my mind.
“You were in St. Lucia with him six years ago.”
“Work.”
“My mother had the receipt.”
Camila looked startled.
“Your mother?”
“She investigated Julian.”
Camila laughed once under her breath.
“Then she was smarter than the rest of us.”
I ignored it.
“What happened in St. Lucia?”
She stared at the table.
“The project was over budget.”
“By how much?”
“Twenty-three million.”
“How?”
“Procurement.”
“Kickbacks?”
“I never saw proof.”
“But you suspected.”
“Yes.”
“Mateo Ruiz found something.”
Her eyes met mine.
“He found that the structural reinforcement specified in the plans had been substituted.”
My body went still.
“With cheaper materials?”
“Yes.”
“Who approved it?”
“I don’t know.”
“Julian?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I know Julian pressured the contractor.”
“Why?”
“To bring the budget back under control.”
“And Mateo discovered it.”
“Yes.”
“What happened next?”
“He threatened to report the substitutions to the authorities.”
I could hear the hum of the building.
Nothing else.
“Then he died.”
Camila swallowed.
“Yes.”
“Did Julian kill him?”
Her eyes widened.
“No.”
“That was too fast.”
“I did not see Julian hurt him.”
“That is not what I asked.”
She leaned back.
“I don’t know.”
“What do you know?”
“Julian was terrified after the accident.”
“Because he had caused the conditions?”
“Maybe.”
“Camila.”
“He called me at two in the morning.”
Her voice lowered.
“He said everything had to be cleaned up before the board found out.”
“Cleaned up.”
“That was the word he used.”
I thought about the report with my signature.
“What did you do?”
“I helped alter consulting invoices.”
My stomach turned.
“To hide the savings from the material substitution?”
“Yes.”
“And my credentials?”
She looked ashamed.
“He already had them.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“You helped him use them?”
“No.”
“Did you see him?”
“I saw an approval generated under your account.”
“When?”
“The morning after the accident.”
I had to force myself to breathe.
“Where was I?”
Camila looked at me carefully.
“Do you really not remember?”
Something about her tone frightened me.
“Remember what?”
“You were in Boston.”
I froze.
Six years earlier.
Boston.
A hospital.
A private room.
White sheets.
Julian holding my hand.
I closed my eyes.
I had lost a pregnancy that week.
Fourteen weeks.
No one outside my immediate family knew.
I had spent two days sedated and another week barely functional.
Julian had taken my laptop.
He told me he was handling work so I wouldn’t have to.
I opened my eyes.
“He used my credentials while I was in the hospital.”
Camila didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
For years, I had remembered that week as the time my husband took care of me.
Maybe he had been taking care of something else entirely.
My stomach twisted.
“Why are you telling me now?”
Camila laughed bitterly.
“Because last night I realized I am next.”
“What happened?”
She pulled out her phone.
A screenshot.
A message from Julian.
If Elena challenges the accounts, Red Birch is yours.
I understood instantly.
He had set her up.
“Everything is in your name.”
“Enough of it.”
“You helped him.”
“Yes.”
“You benefited.”
“Yes.”
“You slept with him.”
Her jaw tightened.
“Yes.”
“And now you want protection.”
“Yes.”
The honesty made it harder to dismiss her.
“What do you have?”
She reached into a canvas bag.
A small black phone.
A burner.
“I kept this for six years.”
“Why?”
“Insurance.”
“Against Julian?”
“Against everyone.”
I picked it up.
“What’s on it?”
“Texts.”
“Between you and him?”
“Yes.”
“Emails?”
“Some.”
“Audio?”
She hesitated.
“One recording.”
I looked up.
“What recording?”
“The night Mateo died.”
My skin went cold.
“What does it say?”
“You need to hear it yourself.”
She typed a code.
Opened an audio file.
The timestamp matched the night of the accident.
Julian’s voice filled the room.
Younger.
Panicked.
But unmistakable.
You need to get the invoices changed before Thomas sees them.
Camila’s recorded voice answered.
What about Elena?
Julian responded.
She’s in Boston.
A pause.
Then the sentence that made me grip the edge of the table.
Use her approval.
Camila said something else.
If she finds out—
Julian interrupted.
She won’t.
Another pause.
Then he laughed.
She trusts me more than she trusts herself.
The recording ended.
For several seconds, neither of us moved.
My eyes burned.
Not from grief.
From rage.
The betrayal was not the affair.
The affair suddenly felt almost small.
He had used the worst week of my life to hide a dead man behind my name.
I looked at Camila.
“Why didn’t you report this?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of him?”
“Of prison.”
“At least that part is honest.”
She nodded.
I picked up the burner.
“I’m taking this.”
“I know.”
“And the pendant.”
She pushed it toward me.
I reached for it.
Then stopped.
There was a tiny scratch beside the emerald setting.
I had never noticed it before.
“Did you damage this?”
“No.”
“Julian did.”
“When?”
“Last night.”
“Doing what?”
“He opened the back.”
My fingers froze.
“The back doesn’t open.”
“It does.”
She picked it up.
Pressed the emerald twice.
Twisted the outer setting.
A small metal plate released.
Inside was a narrow compartment.
Empty.
I stared at it.
“What was there?”
“A strip of paper.”
“What paper?”
“I never saw it.”
“Julian took it.”
“When?”
“Before we entered the archive.”
My pulse accelerated.
“What did it say?”
“I don’t know.”
“Where is it now?”
“With him.”
I stood.
“What did he do after he took it?”
“He stared at it for a long time.”
“Then?”
“He said something.”
“What?”
Camila looked suddenly afraid.
“He said your father had lied to both of you.”
I stared at her.
“About what?”
“He didn’t say.”
She reached for her phone.
“Then he texted someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“Message?”
She scrolled.
“I saw part of it over his shoulder.”
“What did it say?”
Her voice dropped.
“Get the St. Lucia file before Elena sees the original.”
I looked at the burner.
“The report?”
“I thought so.”
“You don’t anymore?”
“No.”
“Why?”
Camila took a breath.
“Because Julian used the word original.”
My thoughts raced.
Official reports.
Internal reports.
Approvals.
My signature.
“What original?”
“That’s why I called you.”
I stared at her.
“You don’t know?”
“I know where he kept things he never trusted electronically.”
“Where?”
“A private storage room.”
“Here?”
“No.”
“Where?”
She hesitated.
Then said, “At the old Bellamy property in Connecticut.”
I frowned.
“We haven’t used that house in twenty years.”
“I know.”
“How does Julian?”
Her answer chilled me.
“Because his father used to work there.”
The room went silent.
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed.
David.
I answered.
“Elena.”
His voice was tight.
“You need to come back.”
“What happened?”
“Julian filed for an emergency injunction.”
I expected that.
“That’s not surprising.”
“This is.”
“What?”
“He attached a loan agreement.”
My stomach dropped.
“What loan?”
“Eighty million dollars.”
“From whom?”
“Northstar Capital.”
“I never approved an eighty-million-dollar loan.”
“Your signature says otherwise.”
I closed my eyes.
Another forged authorization.
Then David continued.
“And Elena.”
“What?”
“The loan comes due in seventy-two hours if Julian’s executive authority is suspended.”
I looked at Camila.
She had heard enough to understand.
“What happens if we don’t pay?”
David exhaled.
“They can seize pledged operating assets.”
“What assets?”
A pause.
Then the answer.
“The Grand Meridian brand rights.”
My heart stopped.
Julian had not merely prepared to fight my family.
May you like
He had wired the entire company like a bomb.
And the countdown had already begun.
