Chương 10
His embarrassment became anger because anger was easier.
“You arranged my marriage to solve a balance sheet.”
“I arranged a partnership. You were thirty-one, not a child at an auction.”
“You knew she was trapped.”
“I knew she was controlled. There is a difference.”
“Only to the person watching.”
Elena’s eyes filled, which irritated him more than it softened him.
“I spent twenty years keeping your father’s company alive,” she said. “I signed loans when no one would lend to a widow with two unfinished projects and a dead man’s guarantees. I sold our house. I fired people I loved. Then Emmett offered stability, and you agreed.”
“I didn’t know the cost.”
“You didn’t ask.”
The echo of Rosalie’s accusation silenced him.
Elena pushed the payroll folder closer. “Do not turn me into the only coward in this family.”
He stared at the names beneath the totals. Carpenters, site managers, estimators, office staff. People who had worked for him since he was young enough to be introduced as the owner’s son.
“What would you do?” he asked.
“Protect the company.”
“At any cost?”
“No.” She looked toward the elevators. “At a cost I can survive admitting.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It is the only honest one I have.”
Rosalie appeared at the edge of the lobby. She wore a dark sweater, black trousers, and flat shoes borrowed from Maya. Her auburn hair had been cut shorter near the thinning temple, not for style but because blood had dried into it after the wedding.
Elena stood.
The two women faced each other for the first time without Emmett directing the terms.
Elena said, “I’m sorry.”
Rosalie’s expression remained guarded. “For which part?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“That’s convenient.”
“Yes.”
Elena accepted the insult without defense.
Rosalie looked at the payroll folder. “How many people lose their jobs?”
“Potentially all of them.”
“Because of me?”
“No,” Manuel said.
Elena answered at the same time. “Because of Emmett.”
Rosalie’s gaze shifted between them. “He will still call it my fault.”
Elena sat again. “He has always been good at making the injured person feel expensive.”
That sentence altered something. Rosalie did not forgive her. She did not soften. But she pulled out a chair.
“What did he offer?” she asked.
They explained.
Rosalie listened with her hands folded on the table. When Manuel finished, she looked at Elena.
“If I submit to his evaluation, he gets a doctor to say I’m unstable. Then he challenges my access to the trust.”
“Probably,” Elena said.
“If we give up the box, evidence disappears.”
“Possibly.”
“If we refuse, Nelson collapses.”
“Possibly.”
Rosalie leaned back. “He built the choice correctly.”
Manuel said, “We can find another path.”
“People say that when they don’t have one.”
He resented her because she was right.
That afternoon, Manuel met with the senior staff at Nelson Development. He told them the company was in danger, though he did not disclose Rosalie’s medical history or the contents of the deposit box. Rumors had already reached them. Some were sympathetic. Others were furious that a private family dispute threatened their livelihoods.
The chief estimator, Tom Alvarez, asked why Manuel had entered a marriage tied to company financing.
Manuel could have blamed Elena, Emmett, or the board.
“I thought I could benefit from something ugly without becoming responsible for it,” he said. “I was wrong.”
No one applauded the honesty.
Tom looked at the table. “My wife is eight months pregnant.”
“I know.”
“Knowing is not payroll.”
“No.”
A project manager named Keisha Ford asked whether Manuel would sell his ownership stake.
“If it keeps operations alive, yes.”
Elena turned toward him. They had not discussed that.
Keisha said, “Would anyone buy while Durham is poisoning us?”
“Not at a fair price.”
“Then don’t sell cheap and call it sacrifice. We’ll still be unemployed under new owners.”
The meeting became messy after that. People interrupted. One superintendent accused the office staff of hiding financial risk. The controller began crying and became angry when anyone acknowledged it. Tom left halfway through, then returned because he had forgotten his coat.
By the end, they had no solution. They did have a plan to complete two non-Durham contracts early, collect overdue receivables, ask senior staff to delay bonuses, and approach a regional competitor about temporary equipment sharing.
It bought perhaps twelve days.
When Manuel returned to the hotel, Rosalie was sitting on the floor beside the coffee table surrounded by copies of her mother’s records.
She had organized the papers into uneven stacks: trust transfers, clinic payments, correspondence, and names.
“You’re not supposed to review those alone,” he said.
“I’m not alone.”
Maya was asleep upright in an armchair, glasses crooked on her face.
Rosalie pointed to a payment ledger. “The clinic that held me received money from a Durham subsidiary one week before I arrived.”
“That seems important.”
“The company’s listed address is a storage facility.”
“Shell company?”
“Probably.”
She handed him another page. “This payment is dated two days after my mother died. Same company. Same clinic.”
“For what?”
“No description.”
Manuel sat across from her. “Could it be connected to Voss?”
“He became medical director there six months later.”
“That’s not proof.”
“I know.”
The sharpness in her voice suggested many people had told her what was not proof.
Manuel picked up a photocopy of Lorelei’s handwritten note. “Who is Adrian Vale?”
Rosalie glanced at it. “My mother’s accountant. He disappeared from the records after her death.”
“Dead?”
“I don’t know.”
Maya opened her eyes. “Alive.”
Neither of them had heard her wake.
She straightened her glasses. “Adrian Vale is seventy-four and living in Oregon. I found a professional licensing record. He surrendered his CPA license for health reasons twelve years ago.”
“Have you called him?” Rosalie asked.
“Three times. No answer.”
“Does Emmett know where he is?”
May you like
“Assume yes.”
Rosalie looked at the page again. Lorelei’s statement said Adrian held duplicate records and had agreed to contact investigators if anything happened to her.
