Chương 3
“My board.”
“All of them?”
“Not everyone.”
His eyes moved toward a man standing near the bar.
A tall man with gray hair and a carefully neutral expression.
“David Mercer.”
I recognized the name.
Not personally.
Professionally.
David was one of the earliest investors in Nathan’s company.
He appeared in interviews whenever journalists discussed the company’s history.
He was known as the person who kept Nathan grounded.
But now he looked uncomfortable.
That was interesting.
“Why would your board invite me to test people?”
Nathan exhaled slowly.
“They wanted proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“That my company was not becoming dependent on image.”
I stared at him.
“That sounds like something people say when they already know they have a problem.”
A faint smile crossed his face.
Even now, he appreciated when I challenged him.
“You are usually right when you say things like that.”
“Usually?”
“Always.”
I almost smiled.
Almost.
Then I remembered the water.
The railing.
Veronica’s hands.
The memory arrived suddenly through a sensation rather than a thought.
The smell of salt.
The weight of wet fabric.
The panic of not knowing which direction was up.
I looked away.
Nathan noticed.
His face softened.
“I should have protected you from this.”
“You should have trusted me with the truth.”
He nodded.
“That too.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
The yacht continued moving through the ocean.
The engines created a low vibration beneath our feet.
People walked quietly around us, trying not to appear like they were listening.
They failed.
A woman near the window approached carefully.
“I’m sorry.”
She was one of the guests who had watched Veronica earlier.
“I should have said something.”
I looked at her.
She looked embarrassed.
Not because she had done anything.
Because she had done nothing.
“What would you have said?”
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
That was the honest answer.
Nobody knew what they would have done until the moment arrived.
“I don’t know,” she admitted.
I nodded.
“I understand.”
She seemed relieved and uncomfortable at the same time.
That was probably the closest thing to truth people could offer that night.
Captain Reynolds approached with a tablet.
“Mr. Carter.”
Nathan turned.
“We found something.”
The captain looked at me before continuing.
“There was an issue with the security footage.”
My stomach tightened.
“What kind of issue?”
“The cameras covering the upper deck were disabled for seven minutes.”
Nathan’s expression hardened.
“Disabled?”
“Yes.”
“Accidentally?”
The captain hesitated.
“No.”
Nobody spoke.
“Who had access?” Nathan asked.
The captain looked at the tablet.
“Four people.”
“Names.”
The captain read them.
“Two crew supervisors, one event technician, and Veronica Hale.”
The room shifted.
Veronica immediately stepped forward.
“That does not mean I did anything.”
Nathan looked at her.
“Did you disable the cameras?”
Her hesitation was brief.
But everyone noticed.
“I asked for privacy.”
“For what?”
She looked at Marcus.
Her husband looked away.
That was another answer.
“For a conversation.”
“With my wife?”
Nathan asked.
Veronica’s face changed.
“No.”
The word came out quietly.
A few guests exchanged looks.
The story had changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“Who were you talking to?” Nathan asked.
“I don’t know.”
“That is not possible.”
“It was a man.”
“Name?”
“I didn’t get one.”
Nathan studied her.
I watched Veronica’s confidence disappear piece by piece.
She was used to controlling rooms.
She was not used to being the person everyone was analyzing.
“What did he want?” I asked.
She looked at me.
For a second, something like shame appeared.
Then it vanished.
“He asked questions.”
“About what?”
“About you.”
The answer made my skin feel cold.
“What questions?”
Veronica crossed her arms.
“He wanted to know if you were really Nathan Carter’s wife.”
Nathan became completely still.
“What else?”
“He wanted to know if you knew about the board vote.”
I looked at Nathan.
He looked back at me.
The pieces were moving.
But they were not forming a picture yet.
“Why would someone care if I knew?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
Because everyone in the room was thinking the same thing.
Maybe I was not the target.
Maybe I was the test.
Nathan stepped away from me and walked toward the bar where David Mercer stood.
“David.”
The older man looked tired.
“I was wondering when you would come over.”
The entire room seemed to hold its breath.
“You knew about this.”
David rubbed his forehead.
“I knew there were concerns.”
“You knew they were testing my wife.”
“I knew they wanted to understand whether you were being isolated from reality.”
Nathan laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“By throwing my wife into a room full of people who judge her?”
“I did not know Veronica would do that.”
“That is exactly the problem.”
David looked down.
“I underestimated her.”
The admission sounded worse than a denial.
I watched Nathan carefully.
He was not just angry anymore.
He was disappointed.
That was more dangerous.
“You let people use my marriage as evidence in a corporate argument,” Nathan said.
David swallowed.
“And now you know why some of us were concerned.”
Nathan stared at him.
“Explain.”
David looked around the room.
Then at me.
“The concern was never your ability to run the company.”
A pause followed.
“It was whether you still knew who you were running it for.”
The words stayed there.
Not because they were true.
Because they were close enough to hurt.
Because they were close enough to hurt.
I had spent years watching Nathan build a company by refusing to become the kind of person who believed money solved everything.
Now I was standing in the middle of a yacht full of people who had used my humiliation to answer a question about his character.
The irony was not lost on me.
Nathan looked at David for several seconds.
Then he asked, “Did you approve the invitation?”
David hesitated.
That hesitation was enough.
Nathan’s shoulders lowered slightly.
Not in defeat.
In disappointment.
May you like
“Yes,” David said.
“I approved it.”
