Chapter 6: The Price Of Betrayal

The first thing Amara noticed when Sloane entered the room was the bruise on her wrist.

It was faint, and almost hidden beneath the sleeve of her cream blouse. But Amara saw it.

“Your father?”

Sloane pulled her sleeve down. “Good morning to you too.”

“Did he do that?”

“Does it matter?”

“It might.”

Sloane dropped a thick brown envelope on the table.

“Everything you need is inside.”

But Amara didn’t touch it immediately. “You said you had records.”

“I do.”

“And you expect me to trust you?”

“No.” Sloane pulled out the chair opposite her. “I expect you to read them.”

Amara opened the envelope.

There were bank statements, transaction summaries and printed emails. She flipped through the pages, as her eyes moved quickly over the figures, then she stopped.

“Vantage Operations again.”

Sloane nodded. “Three separate payments from Whitmore Holdings, all made before the warehouse disaster.”

“How much?”

“Two point four million dollars in the first transfer. Another payment followed two days later. The third was made on the morning of the fire.”

Amara checked the dates.

The first payment had been made six days before the disaster, and the second, four days before.

The third payment was less than twelve hours before the fire.

“Why was your father paying Victor’s department?”

“He says it was an operational investment.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It’s the only one he’s given me.”

Amara turned another page, it was a transfer approval that appeared beneath the transaction details.

Her fingers stopped.

“What’s this?”

Sloane leaned forward.

“An approval record.”

“I can see that.”

Amara placed the page between them. The approval credentials belonged to Damian Cross, and for several seconds, neither woman spoke.

Then Sloane said, “I thought you should see it before someone else does.”

Amara stared at the document.

Damian’s name was on it, with his authorisation code.

A payment connected to Victor’s department, routed through a company that had received millions from Richard Whitmore.

The pieces were beginning to fit, but something about the document bothered her.

“Where did you get this?”

“From my father’s private financial archive.”

“Did you copy the original?”

“I photographed it.”

“Then we need the original.”

Sloane gave a humourless laugh. “You think my father will let me walk out with his financial records?”

“I’m beginning to think he won’t let you walk out at all.”

Sloane’s expression tightened, as Amara gathered the pages and slid them back into the envelope.

“Did you show this to anyone else?”

“No.”

“Not even Damian?”

“Especially not Damian.”

Amara looked at her.

“Why?”

“Because I don’t know whose side he’s on anymore.”

For the first time, Amara believed they were both asking themselves the same question.

****

Damian was in the middle of a meeting when Amara walked into his office, and his lawyers looked up.

“Ms Quinn,” one of them said. “This meeting is private.”

“Then you should be grateful I’m not staying.”

Damian raised a hand.

“Leave us.”

The lawyers exchanged glances before gathering their documents.

When the door closed, Damian leaned back in his chair.

“Do you ever knock?”

“Do you ever tell the truth?”

His expression hardened.

“What happened?”

Amara placed a copy of the approval record on his desk, and his eyes dropped to the page.

For the first time since she had known him, he didn’t immediately have an answer.

“Where did you get this?”

“That’s your first question?”

“Amara.”

“Your credentials approved a payment to Vantage Operations. The same company receiving money from Richard Whitmore. The same company connected to Victor’s department before eleven people died.”

Damian picked up the page, and studied it carefully.

“This isn’t possible.”

“Your name is right there.”

“My credentials were compromised.”

Amara let out a short laugh.

“Of course they were.”

“I’m telling you the truth.”

“You’ve told me that before.”

He stood.

“I did not approve this transfer.”

“Then explain why your authorisation code is attached to it.”

“I can’t explain something I didn’t do.”

“You authorised the emergency reroute on the night of the disaster. You admitted that yourself.”

“Because I did.”

“And now your credentials appear on payments connected to Victor.”

“I said they were compromised.”

“Convenient.”

Damian placed the document on the desk.

“Do you think I would be stupid enough to leave my name on an illegal payment?”

“I think you were stupid enough to leave me alone when you knew I was innocent.”

Silence fell between them, and Damian let out a sigh.

“That’s not what this is about.”

“It became what this was about the moment you decided the company mattered more than the truth.”

“I’m trying to help you find out what happened.”

“No. You’re trying to control how much I discover.”

He stepped around the desk.

“Be careful, Amara. You’re making accusations you can’t prove.”

“And you’re making excuses you can’t support.”

She picked up the document.

“Who had access to your credentials?”

“Several senior executives. Victor had administrative access to the old approval system.”

“Did you report the compromise?”

“Not at the time. I didn’t know it had happened.”

“Then how do you know your credentials were compromised?”

Damian’s expression tightened.

“Because I didn’t authorise that payment, Amara.”

“That isn’t proof.”

“I know. That’s why I’m having the system examined by an independent forensic team.”

“Good. Then you won’t mind giving them access to the original records.”

“I won’t.”

Amara studied him, searching his face for the slightest sign of a lie.

He looked angry, but anger wasn’t proof of innocence.

Neither was fear.

“There’s something else,” she said.

“What?”

“The emergency reroute. I want the original authorisation record, the reason it was approved, and every communication attached to it.”

Damian’s expression changed.

“That order was issued during an operational emergency.”

“Eleven people died during that emergency.”

“I know.”

“No, Damian. You remember. There’s a difference.”

She turned towards the door.

“Amara.”

She stopped but didn’t face him.

“If Victor used my credentials, he did it for a reason. I want to know why.”

“Then stop asking me to trust you and start helping me prove it.”

She walked out, and twenty minutes later, Damian called Victor Hale.

Victor answered on the second ring.

“Damian.”

“Did you approve a transfer to Vantage Operations using my credentials?”

There was a brief silence,

“Which transfer?”

“Don’t play games with me.”

“I process hundreds of approvals every month. You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Three payments from Whitmore Holdings. One of them carries my authorisation code.”

Victor sighed.

“Those records are old. The system was unreliable during that period.”

“Was it?”

“I’m sure the audit team can clarify.”

“Did you use my credentials?”

“Of course not.”

Damian gripped the phone.

“Then why are they attached to the payment?”

“Perhaps you should ask your former wife. She seems to have developed an interest in every document in this company.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed.

“How do you know she has the records?”

Victor didn’t answer immediately.

Then he said, “Because people are talking.”

“Who?”

“Be careful, Damian. You have already lost your position. Don’t make the mistake of losing what’s left.”

The call ended.

Damian stared at the screen.

Victor hadn’t denied knowing about the transfers. He had only denied approving them.

Victor had been too quick to mention Amara. He hadn’t asked what she had discovered. He already seemed to know.

*****

Amara was reviewing the documents when her phone rang.

Sloane.

“There’s a problem,” Sloane said.

“What happened?”

“My father knows I took the photographs.”

“How?”

“I don’t know. He just called and asked whether I’d spoken to you.”

Amara stood.

“Where are you?”

“At home.”

“Leave.”

“What?”

“Don’t stay there. Take only what you need and go somewhere your father doesn’t know about.”

“Amara, you’re frightening me.”

“Good. It means you’re finally taking this seriously.”

Sloane went quiet, then she whispered, “He said I should stop digging before I destroy the family.”

Amara looked at the financial records spread across her desk.

“Your father has already destroyed enough.”

She ended the call, and a new message appeared almost immediately, from an unknown number.

“You’re looking at the wrong approval.”

Amara frowned, and another message followed.

“Ask Damian what happened at 11:47 p.m. He knows more than he’s telling you.”

Her fingers tightened around the phone.

11:47 p.m, it was the exact time mentioned in the earlier warning.

A third message appeared.

“His signature is only the beginning.”

Amara stared at the screen.

Someone had connected Damian to the payments, the emergency reroute and the night Noah died.

But whoever was sending these messages knew something she didn’t, and they wanted her to keep digging.

She opened the photograph of Damian’s approval record again.

For the first time, she wondered whether the man she had once loved had been used by Victor…

Or whether Damian had been hiding something far worse than a compromised password.