Chapter 9 - Victor’s Half-Truth.
Mara wanted to drive back to Aurelia immediately.
Ethan refused.
“Serena wants you there angry.”
“You don’t know that.”
“She asked where your sister’s files were, and your apartment was opened less than an hour later.”
“That means she might have the flash drive.”
“Exactly.”
“So we go get it.”
“That is the emotional version of a plan.”
Mara glared at him.
“What’s the rich-guy version?”
“Get more information than the person who thinks they have the advantage.”
Mara hated how reasonable that sounded.
They sat in Ethan’s car across from her building while an officer finished taking notes upstairs.
Ethan called Victor back.
“Tell me everything about Claire.”
Victor did not answer immediately.
“I already did.”
“No.”
Ethan’s voice was calm.
“You told Mara enough to keep her listening.”
Victor exhaled through the speaker.
Mara leaned closer.
“You said you helped Claire leave.”
“I did.”
“How?”
“I gave her access to the loading dock after hours.”
“Who picked her up?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did she take documents?”
“Yes.”
Mara’s heart kicked.
“What documents?”
“Copies of vendor invoices.”
“Northstar?”
“Mostly.”
“What else?”
“Private-event guest lists.”
Ethan’s eyes narrowed.
“Why guest lists?”
“Claire believed the suspicious invoices matched certain VIP visits.”
Mara looked at Ethan.
“Like Marcus Vale.”
Victor went silent.
“Victor.”
“Yes.”
“How many guests?”
“I don’t know.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“Seven that Claire confirmed.”
Ethan’s face hardened.
“Names.”
Victor listed them.
Ethan recognized five.
Two were CEOs.
One was a senator’s major donor.
One controlled a regional media company.
One had abruptly withdrawn from a corporate sale after dining at Aurelia.
Mara’s unease deepened.
“What happened to them?”
“Different things,” Victor said.
“One got sick.”
“One had a private argument recorded.”
“One lost a confidential document.”
“One was photographed with someone they didn’t want photographed.”
Mara stared through the windshield.
“This isn’t about food.”
“No.”
Victor’s voice sounded tired.
“The restaurant is just the room where things happen.”
Ethan understood immediately.
“A controlled environment.”
“Exactly.”
“Cameras, staff, private rooms, billing records, access to schedules.”
“Yes.”
Mara looked at Ethan.
“And a kitchen where nobody questions a plate.”
Victor said nothing.
Ethan’s eyes hardened.
“What was supposed to happen to me tonight?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I knew the plate had been altered after Mara brought it back.”
“Altered how?”
“I don’t know.”
Mara remembered the fork hovering near Ethan’s mouth.
“Could it have hurt him?”
Victor paused.
“It could have caused a serious reaction.”
Mara felt sick.
Ethan’s expression remained controlled.
“What did my reservation notes say?”
Victor hesitated.
“Dietary restrictions.”
“Which ones?”
“Your assistant provided them.”
Mara turned to Ethan.
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
Ethan’s voice was colder now.
“He knows everything my medical concierge considers relevant to travel.”
Victor continued.
“I saw an ingredient on the private-prep tray that wasn’t supposed to be anywhere near your order.”
Mara stared at the phone.
“You saw it before I stopped him?”
Victor’s silence lasted too long.
Mara’s voice rose.
“You knew before I stopped him.”
“I suspected.”
“You stood there and watched him raise the fork.”
“I was trying to find Serena.”
“You could have shouted.”
Victor’s voice broke.
“And if I was wrong?”
Mara laughed in disbelief.
“If you were wrong, a rich man gets annoyed.”
“If I was right, the people who threatened my family would know I turned on them.”
Mara went silent.
Victor continued.
“I froze.”
There was no heroic excuse in his voice.
Only shame.
“I watched you do what I should have done.”
Mara looked away.
Ethan spoke after a long pause.
“That’s the first thing you’ve said tonight that I completely believe.”
Victor breathed out slowly.
“There’s more.”
Mara closed her eyes.
“Of course there is.”
“Claire didn’t leave alone.”
Mara turned toward the phone.
“What?”
Victor’s voice dropped.
“Someone from Cole Meridian helped her.”
Ethan went still.
“Who?”
“I never knew his name.”
“What did he look like?”
“Mid-thirties then.”
“Dark hair?”
“Yes.”
“Tall?”
“About six feet.”
“Anything distinctive?”
Victor thought.
“He wore silver rectangular cuff links.”
Mara stared at Ethan.
Ethan’s face became unreadable.
May you like
Daniel had worked for Cole Meridian for nine years.
Two years ago, he had been thirty-six.
