Chương 7
“Now?”
“Yes. They want a meeting today.”
Marcus mouthed, Yes.
Elena ignored him.
“What changed?”
“Her lawyer won’t say.”
Rachel turned the laptop toward Elena and pointed at Camille’s name.
Elena understood.
“Tell them four o’clock.”
Camille arrived at Dana’s office wearing a gray suit and no jewelry.
Without the champagne-silver gown, the diamonds, the penthouse lighting, she looked younger than thirty-two and more tired than Elena expected.
Her lawyer was a compact woman named Grace Lin who began by making it clear that Camille was not waiving any privilege, admitting any wrongdoing, or agreeing to cooperate beyond the narrow scope of the conversation.
Dana listened.
Elena watched Camille’s hands.
Camille kept one thumb pressed into the opposite palm.
Finally Dana said, “What can your client tell us?”
Grace nodded to Camille.
Camille looked at Elena for the first time.
“Strategic Opportunities was Adrian’s idea.”
Elena said nothing.
“He said the company needed a vehicle that could move quickly without putting every transaction through the hospitality board.”
Dana asked, “For what purpose?”
“Special situations. Distressed property, short-term investments, bridge financing.”
“Was that approved?”
“Adrian said it was.”
“Did you verify?”
Camille’s jaw tightened. “No.”
Grace touched her sleeve.
Camille continued more carefully.
“I was not responsible for governance.”
“You were an authorized signer,” Elena said.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian traveled.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“It’s the answer.”
Elena stared at her.
Camille looked away.
“Sometimes wires needed two approvals. He didn’t want finance holding things up when he was on a plane.”
Rachel, sitting beside Dana, asked, “Did you approve the Halcyon transfers?”
Camille’s eyes flicked toward Grace.
Grace said, “My client can answer whether she acted on instructions.”
Camille nodded.
“Yes.”
“Whose?”
“Adrian’s.”
“Written?”
“Sometimes.”
“Do you have them?”
“Some.”
Marcus had been excluded from the meeting at Elena’s insistence. She was grateful for it.
Dana asked, “Why only some?”
“Because some were texts. Some were calls. Some were messages in the company system.”
“Are the company messages preserved?”
“I don’t know.”
“You worked there yesterday.”
Camille’s face tightened.
“I don’t work there today.”
Elena sat forward.
“What happened?”
“Adrian put me on administrative leave.”
“When?”
“Ten this morning.”
“Why?”
“He said there were questions about my handling of financial communications.”
The answer hung there.
Elena almost felt sorry for her.
Almost.
“You signed the wires.”
“Yes.”
“You sent his instructions.”
“Yes.”
“You helped rewrite the schedule he wanted me to sign.”
Camille looked at Elena.
“Yes.”
“And now that he’s blaming you, you’re here.”
Grace leaned forward. “Mrs. Cross—”
“No. I’m asking her.”
Camille’s thumb dug deeper into her palm.
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised Elena.
Camille swallowed.
“I’m here because he’s blaming me.”
Elena sat back.
At least it was not courage pretending to be virtue.
Dana said, “What were the Halcyon investments?”
Camille looked at Rachel.
“I thought they were company investments.”
“You thought?”
“Adrian said Strategic Opportunities would hold positions that weren’t suitable for the main balance sheet.”
“That sentence should have concerned you,” Rachel said.
“It concerns me now.”
“What changed?”
Camille hesitated.
Grace said, “You can answer.”
Camille looked at Elena.
“Tuesday night.”
The penthouse.
Elena felt the room narrow.
“When your pendant lit up, Adrian knew what it was.”
“Yes.”
“He told me afterward that your father had been monitoring you for months.”
“He wasn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“How?”
“Because Adrian had been telling me you were unstable. That Marcus was trying to pull you out of the company. That the records requests were your father using you to force a governance fight.”
Elena felt something hard settle behind her ribs.
“And you believed him.”
“I believed parts of it.”
“Which parts?”
Camille looked uncomfortable.
“That your father is controlling.”
Elena almost smiled.
“He is.”
“And that you were under pressure.”
“I was.”
“And that you had been… erratic.”
Elena stared at her.
Camille’s face reddened.
“I’m not proud of that.”
“What did erratic mean?”
Grace shifted in her chair.
Camille answered anyway.
“Leaving meetings. Missing calls. Asking the same finance questions repeatedly. Crying in Adrian’s office once.”
Elena remembered that day.
Her mother’s birthday. A lender call. Adrian telling her she was embarrassing him because she had asked why cash reserves had fallen.
She had cried for perhaps thirty seconds in a bathroom, not his office.
“Anything else?” Elena asked.
Camille shook her head.
“So he described a woman questioning money and occasionally crying as unstable.”
“When you say it like that—”
“How did he say it?”
Camille was silent.
Dana intervened. “We can return to this. What made Tuesday different?”
Camille looked down.
“When security arrived, Adrian told me not to leave.”
Elena remembered.
“I thought he meant because of company exposure. Then, after you left, he locked the penthouse door.”
Grace turned toward her.
“You didn’t tell me that.”
Camille’s eyes filled suddenly but did not spill over.
“It was maybe three minutes.”
“Why?”
“He wanted my phone.”
The room went still.
“He said legal would need it.”
Dana asked, “Did you give it to him?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“He asked again. I said no. He stood between me and the elevator.”
Elena felt a strange, unwelcome recognition.
Camille took a breath.
“Then he moved.”
“Did he touch you?” Dana asked.
“No.”
“Threaten you?”
“No.”
“Did you feel free to leave?”
Camille looked at Elena.
“No.”
For a moment neither woman spoke.
Camille glanced at her hands.
“I understand that isn’t the same as what happened to you.”
Elena thought of Adrian’s shoe over the broken phone.
“No,” she said. “It’s close enough for you to stop explaining.”
Camille nodded.
Rachel asked, “After you left?”
“I went home. Adrian called twelve times.”
“Did you answer?”
“The first three.”
“What did he want?”
“To know what I had told security.”
“Had security spoken to you?”
“No.”
“Anything else?”
Camille looked at Grace.
Grace said, “Careful.”
Camille nodded.
“He told me to delete a draft of the ratification from my personal laptop because it contained outdated figures.”
May you like
Rachel’s posture changed.
“Did you?”
