Chapter 3 - Forty Million Dollars of Mistakes
By Tuesday morning, Camille, Evelyn, and Sloane were back in my penthouse.
None knew why Dominic was missing.
Nora stood beside the windows.
Not in uniform.
That alone irritated Camille.
She looked at Nora's navy dress.
“So the Cinderella experiment continues.”
Nora said nothing.
I entered.
“Sit.”
Everyone did.
Nora remained standing.
I placed four folders on the table.
“Seventy-two hours are over.”
Camille smiled confidently.
“Finally.”
She pushed photographs toward me.
“The penthouse appreciates at twelve percent annually. The armored vehicles improve your security. The jewelry—”
“Does nothing.”
Her smile vanished.
“Excuse me?”
“You spent eleven million dollars buying things I could have ordered from my phone while eating breakfast.”
Her face reddened.
Evelyn spoke next.
“My acquisitions give you freight capacity and cybersecurity assets.”
“Better.”
She smiled slightly.
“But the freight company has fourteen million in hidden pension liabilities.”
The smile disappeared.
“What?”
Nora quietly slid a document toward her.
Evelyn read it.
Her face changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“The company's retired controller.”
“He signed an NDA.”
“He didn't disclose company secrets. He told me where public pension filings didn't match.”
Evelyn looked at me.
“You let her investigate our purchases?”
“I didn't let her do anything.”
Sloane crossed her legs.
“My investments aren't vulnerable to paperwork.”
Nora looked at her.
“Your judge is.”
Sloane went still.
“What?”
“The gambling debt you paid belonged to Judge Warren.”
“So?”
“He's under sealed federal investigation.”
“That isn't public.”
“No.”
Sloane stared.
“How do you know?”
“The woman who cleans his office noticed investigators photographing his calendar.”
Sloane laughed.
“You're basing this on gossip from a cleaning woman?”
Nora's voice remained calm.
“No. I used the gossip to know which courthouse records to examine.”
She placed another document down.
Sloane stopped laughing.
I leaned against the table.
“Forty million dollars.”
Nobody spoke.
“Forty million spent proving each of you understood power.”
I looked at Nora.
“She spent zero.”
Camille scoffed.
“So she loses.”
“No.”
I placed Dominic's burner phone on the table.
“She found the man planning my murder.”
All three women froze.
Evelyn was first.
“Dominic?”
“Yes.”
Camille whispered, “That's impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
Sloane studied Nora differently now.
“What does this have to do with us?”
“That's what we're going to discover.”
I looked at Nora.
She opened her notebook.
“Mr. Varga needed three things.”
She raised one finger.
“Access to Adrian's route.”
A second.
“A security failure.”
A third.
“And someone powerful enough to make the aftermath disappear.”
Camille slowly stood.
“You're accusing us?”
“Sit down,” I said.
She sat.
Nora continued.
“I checked your purchases.”
Evelyn's eyes narrowed.
“And?”
“Camille's armored-vehicle supplier received an unusual request yesterday.”
Camille frowned.
“What request?”
“A buyer asked for the exact armor specifications of Adrian's convoy.”
Camille's face went pale.
“I didn't authorize that.”
“I know.”
Nora turned toward Evelyn.
“The cybersecurity company you bought experienced an attempted intrusion Sunday night.”
Evelyn stared.
“Into what?”
“Moretti security servers.”
Evelyn whispered, “Jesus.”
Then Nora looked at Sloane.
Sloane's confidence disappeared.
“What?”
“Judge Warren received a message promising his gambling records would disappear permanently if he made one phone call Tuesday night.”
Sloane stood.
“I had nothing to do with that.”
“I believe you.”
That surprised everyone.
I watched Nora.
“You know who did?”
“I know who benefited from all three.”
She placed a photograph on the table.
A man in his sixties.
Gray hair.
Expensive suit.
My father's oldest adviser.
Victor DeLuca.
Camille stared.
“My father?”
Nora nodded.
Camille slapped her.
The sound cracked through the room.
My guards moved.
Nora stumbled but remained standing.
Camille's eyes filled with fury.
“You lying little—”
“Enough.”
My voice made the windows feel smaller.
Camille turned toward me.
“She's accusing my father of trying to murder you!”
Nora touched her cheek.
“No.”
Camille glared.
Nora looked directly at her.
“I'm accusing your father of financing Dominic.”
Camille whispered, “What's the difference?”
Nora answered quietly.
“The difference is that Dominic wanted Adrian dead.”
She slid one final photograph onto the table.
“Your father wanted Dominic dead too.”
I stared down.
The photograph showed Victor DeLuca meeting a second group of men.
Men who had no connection to Dominic.
My stomach tightened.
Nora looked at me.
“You weren't the end of the plan.”
“What was?”
May you like
“War.”
---
