Chapter 10 - The Part I Had Missed
Leo planned to turn my anniversary gala into a public intervention.
Three hundred guests.
Investors.
Editors.
Customers who had followed my mother’s work since the first store.
He would show selected recordings.
Victor would speak about continuity.
Claire was supposed to stand beside them and confirm I had become unpredictable.
“And afterward?” I asked.
“He thought you’d agree privately.”
“To giving him my company?”
“To avoiding more publicity.”
I sat back.
There was something almost childish about it.
He had watched me build a business.
He had seen me negotiate leases, survive failed launches, and spend nights fixing production problems.
Still, he believed embarrassment could make me hand it over.
Elena collected the documents.
“We’ll verify all of this.”
Claire nodded.
I stood.
“Mia.”
I stopped at the door.
“I’m sorry.”
I turned.
“Did you send the email about my mother?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
For a moment, I couldn’t hear the traffic beyond the windows.
“You knew her.”
“I know.”
“She let you sleep on our couch when your landlord changed the locks.”
Claire began crying.
“She paid for your first business course.”
“I know.”
“You stood at her funeral holding my hand.”
“I know.”
“No. You remember. That’s different.”
I left before she could answer.
In the hallway, Nathan was waiting.
He looked worse than he had that morning.
“We found the relief fund balance.”
“How much?”
“Almost four million pesos missing.”
I leaned against the wall.
“How many employees?”
“Twenty-seven families were promised assistance that never arrived.”
My anger changed shape.
Until then, I had thought about my bed.
My marriage.
My mother’s photographs.
Now I thought about employees waiting for money while Leo bought watches.
“Pay them.”
“We’re calculating the verified claims.”
“From my personal reserve if necessary.”
Nathan nodded.
Then he handed me another folder.
“What’s this?”
“Your original campaign approvals. The papers Claire prepared before Paris.”
I flipped through them.
There, between fabric orders and licensing summaries, was a page with a blank lower half.
A signature page.
My real signature.
Detached from the document it belonged to.
Elena came into the hallway.
She studied it.
Then the copied transfer.
“They didn’t only imitate your signature,” she said.
“They reused it.”
On the final page, Nathan had attached the internal upload record.
May you like
The file had been assembled on a company computer.
Assigned to Victor.
