Chapter 5: His Fiancée’s Secret

Sloane Whitmore stared at the figures on her laptop, as she had checked them three times.

It was the same amount, dates, and recipient. Every transfer led back to an account connected to Victor Hale, and she clicked on the latest transaction.

$2,400,000.

The payment had been made six days before the warehouse disaster, and another transfer followed two days later. Then a third, just hours before the fire.

Sloane leaned closer to the screen.

Her father had always been careful with money, all of his investment was documented, every major transaction discussed with his financial advisers too. He never moved millions without a reason, so why were these payments hidden?

She opened the attached records and found a company name she didn’t recognise.

Vantage Operations LLC.

The account had received money from Whitmore Holdings before transferring it to a subsidiary managed by Cross Meridian.

Sloane reached for her phone, she had barely unlocked it when a voice came from behind her.

“What are you doing?”

She spun around.

Richard Whitmore stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

“Dad.”

He glanced at the laptop.

“Close it.”

Sloane slowly lowered her hand.

“What is Vantage Operations?”

Richard walked into the room and shut the door.

“Where did you get those records?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I asked you a question.”

“And I’m asking you one.”

He approached the desk and looked at the screen, as his eyes settled on the transfer history.

For the first time, his expression changed, only slightly.

But Sloane noticed.

“Why are you sending money to Victor Hale?”

Richard closed the laptop.

“These are business transactions. You have no reason to involve yourself.”

“Three payments went through before the warehouse disaster. Why?”

“Because Victor was handling an operation that required financial support.”

“What operation?”

Richard straightened his jacket.

“One you know nothing about.”

Sloane stood.

“Eleven people died in that warehouse.”

“And what exactly do you expect me to do about that?”

“Tell me the truth.”

Richard stared at her.

“You are marrying Damian Cross in a few weeks. I suggest you start behaving like someone who understands the importance of that marriage.”

“Is that supposed to be a threat?”

“It’s advice.”

He moved towards the door.

“Forget what you saw. And don’t contact Victor about those payments.”

“Why?”

Richard stopped. His hand remained on the door handle.

“Because some questions are better left unanswered.”

He then walked out, but Sloane remained standing beside the desk.

Her father’s words kept repeating in her head, and she had spent her entire life believing Richard Whitmore was a man who could control any situation.

Now she wasn’t sure whether he was protecting her or himself.

****

Damian Cross dropped a document onto Amara’s desk, but she didn’t look up immediately.

“What’s this?”

“An offer.”

“I don’t remember asking for one.”

“Read it.”

Amara picked up the document.

It was a draft agreement for a new ten-year AEGIS licence.

Her eyes moved down the first page before she placed it back on the desk.

“No.”

Damian exhaled.

“You haven’t even read the terms.”

“I don’t need to.”

“Amara, this is different.”

“Is it?”

He pulled out the chair opposite her and sat down.

“I’m prepared to make a public statement correcting everything that was said about you after the disaster. I’ll have the company issue a formal apology. Your reputation will be restored.”

She looked at him.

“How generous.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

Damian leaned forward.

“You want people to know you weren’t responsible? I’ll make sure they know.”

“And what do you want in return?”

He tapped the agreement.

“A new licence.”

Amara laughed quietly.

“There it is.”

“You’re not listening.”

“No, Damian. I’ve listened to you for years. I’ve listened to your promises, your explanations and your excuses. I’m finished.”

His expression hardened.

“Do you honestly believe I caused your brother’s death?”

She stared at him.

“I believe you knew something was wrong. I believe Noah came to you for help. I believe you demanded his phone, and I believe you kept quiet when I needed you to speak.”

“That doesn’t mean I caused the fire.”

“Then prove it.”

“I’ve told you what I know.”

“You’ve told me what you want me to believe.”

Damian stood.

“I didn’t disable those safety systems, Amara. I didn’t order anyone to lock those doors. I approved an emergency reroute. That’s all.”

“Then help me find out who did.”

He looked at her for a long moment.

“And if the investigation destroys this company?”

Amara rose from her chair.

“Then perhaps it deserves to fall.”

Damian’s jaw tightened.

“You think you can rebuild everything in sixty days?”

“I don’t need sixty days to know what you’re afraid of.”

He picked up the agreement.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“Then let me make it.”

Damian turned towards the door.

“Amara.”

She didn’t respond.

“Whatever you think of me, I never wanted Noah dead.”

Her fingers tightened around the edge of her desk.

“Wanting something and being responsible for what happens are two different things.”

He left without another word, and Amara remained standing.

For a moment, she allowed herself to remember the man who had once sat beside her on the floor of their first apartment, helping her work through the earliest version of AEGIS.

Then she remembered the divorce papers.

She opened her laptop and returned to work, she couldn’t afford to miss him.

Not now.

****

Sloane waited until evening before making her decision, and she couldn’t tell Damian what she had discovered. Not yet. She needed to understand how much he knew and whether her father had involved him.

But there was one person she could no longer ignore.

Amara Quinn.

She found her number through an old company contact and sent a message.

“We need to talk. It’s about Victor Hale and my father.”

The reply came several minutes later.

“Who is this?”

“Sloane Whitmore.”

There was no response, then she tried again.

“I think my father has been financing Victor’s operations. I have records.”

This time, the answer came almost immediately.

“Where?”

*****

The restaurant was nearly empty when Amara arrived, and Sloane was already seated in a corner booth, wearing a cream-coloured coat, and a small handbag rested beside her.

Amara stopped beside the table.

“I didn’t expect you to come alone.”

“I didn’t want Damian knowing about this.”

Amara pulled out the opposite chair.

“Then you understand why I don’t trust you.”

Sloane nodded.

“Fair enough.”

Amara sat.

“Why did you contact me?”

Sloane took a breath.

“My father has been transferring money to an account connected to Victor Hale.”

Amara’s expression changed.

“How much?”

“Millions. Three major transfers before the warehouse disaster.”

“Do you have proof?”

“I have copies of the transaction records.”

“Then send them to me.”

“I can’t.”

Amara leaned back.

“Then we have nothing to discuss.”

“Please.” Sloane reached across the table. “You need to understand something. My father knows I’ve seen those records. He came into my room this afternoon and warned me to stop investigating.”

“And you decided to come to me?”

“Because I think this is bigger than my father.”

Amara studied her.

“What makes you say that?”

Sloane hesitated.

“Because when I asked him about the payments, he didn’t deny them. He told me some questions were better left unanswered.”

Amara’s eyes narrowed.

“Did he say what the money was for?”

“No. But I heard him speaking to someone on the phone yesterday. He mentioned Victor and said the operation couldn’t be allowed to collapse.”

“Did he know about the warehouse disaster?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did Damian?”

Sloane looked down.

“I don’t know that either.”

Amara watched her carefully.

“You expect me to believe you know nothing about your own father’s business?”

“I know my father. I know how he operates. But I don’t know what he’s involved in.”

“You’re engaged to Damian Cross. You must have noticed something.”

Sloane’s face tightened.

“Damian keeps a lot of things from me.”

“Welcome to the club.”

For a brief moment, neither woman spoke.

Then Sloane reached into her handbag and removed a folded sheet of paper. She pushed it across the table, and Amara opened it.

Three payment references were printed on the page, along with the name of the receiving company.

Vantage Operations LLC.

She recognised the name from the suspicious transfers Eli had mentioned.

“Where did you get this?”

“From my father’s office.”

Amara looked up.

“Does he know you took it?”

“No.”

“Then why give it to me?”

Sloane’s eyes filled with frustration.

“Because eleven people died, and I don’t want to discover that my family helped make it happen.”

Amara folded the paper and slipped it into her handbag.

“Do you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

“I think I’m beginning to.”

“No. You don’t.” Amara leaned closer. “The people behind this operation have already attacked me. They’ve searched my room, stolen evidence and tried to find someone who was helping me. If your father is involved, they won’t care that you’re his daughter.”

Sloane swallowed.

“That’s why I came.”

Amara stood.

“Don’t contact me again unless you have something useful.”

“Amara.”

She paused, as Sloane’s voice dropped.

“My father told me something else.”

Then Amara turned.

“He said Victor had already handled the people who caused problems before. He didn’t say what happened to them.”

A chill ran through Amara.

“Why didn’t you tell me that earlier?”

“Because I was hoping there was another explanation.”

Amara stared at her, then Sloane reached for her handbag.

“Whatever Noah found, whatever Victor is hiding, you need to be careful. My father has spent his entire life protecting his money and his reputation. If someone threatens either one, I don’t know what he’s capable of.”

Amara picked up her coat.

“Neither do I.”

She walked towards the exit, and her phone vibrated just as she reached the door.

It was an unknown number.

“You really should stop meeting people who know too much.”

Amara stopped, and then another message appeared.

“Especially Damian’s fiancée.”

She slowly turned around, Sloane was still sitting in the booth.

And across the restaurant, a man in a dark jacket lowered his phone.

Their eyes met, and he stood.

Amara’s hand tightened around her handbag just as the man walked towards the exit.

She pushed through the door after him, but a black car pulled away from the curb before she could reach the pavement.

Her phone vibrated again, and this time, there was a photograph of her sitting in the restaurant.

The picture had been taken from inside the room, and beneath it were five words.

“She’s not the only one watching.”

Amara looked back through the restaurant window, and Sloane was gone.

Suddenly, Amara wasn’t sure whether she had just found an ally or walked straight into another trap.