Chapter 5 - THE RECORDING
Victor called at midnight.
I almost didn't answer.
Then I did.
"Elena."
His voice was strangely calm.
"What do you want?"
"To apologize."
I laughed.
"You're three days late."
"I know."
"You hit me."
"I lost control."
"No."
Silence.
"You did it deliberately."
He breathed slowly.
"You don't know what you're talking about."
"I know about Marshall Holdings."
Silence.
"I know about the transfers."
Nothing.
"I know about Project Second Lieutenant."
His breathing changed.
"Who told you?"
There it was.
Not what are you talking about?
Not that's impossible.
He had recognized the name.
I pressed record.
"You planned everything."
"Elena, listen to me."
"No."
"You don't understand the consequences."
"I understand that you stole from me."
"I was protecting our family."
"You stole hundreds of thousands of dollars."
"I was going to pay it back."
"With my salary?"
Silence.
Then his voice became colder.
"You were going to abandon me."
"I was going to serve my country."
"Same thing."
I froze.
"That's what this is about?"
"You changed after you got the commission."
"I hadn't even received it."
"You were going to."
I said nothing.
Then Victor whispered:
"You think they care about you?"
"Who?"
"The military."
"More than you do."
He laughed bitterly.
"You'll learn."
The call ended.
I immediately sent the recording to Harris.
Within hours, prosecutors were involved.
Then something unexpected happened.
Victor's attorney contacted me.
He offered a settlement.
One million dollars.
In exchange for silence.
I stared at the number.
One million.
For the woman he had nearly crippled.
For the money he had stolen.
For the lies.
For the career he had tried to destroy.
I asked Harris what I should do.
He said:
"That's your decision."
I looked at the settlement.
Then I pushed it away.
"I don't want his money."
"What do you want?"
"The truth."
That afternoon, Patricia came to see me.
She didn't ask permission.
She walked into the room wearing a designer coat and carrying a leather handbag.
"You've caused enough damage."
I stared at her.
"To whom?"
"My son."
I almost smiled.
"He attacked me."
"He made a mistake."
"A mistake?"
"You know what I mean."
"No."
She leaned closer.
"Families survive difficult moments."
"Not this one."
"You don't understand what Victor has built."
"I understand exactly."
She stood.
"You think becoming an officer makes you untouchable?"
"No."
"I can destroy your reputation."
"How?"
She smiled.
"We have photographs."
My stomach tightened.
"What photographs?"
"Enough to make people question you."
She walked out.
Harris arrived ten minutes later.
"Did she threaten you?"
"Yes."
"What did she say?"
I told him.
He nodded.
"Good."
"Why is everyone saying good?"
"Because she's getting nervous."
Then he showed me a photograph.
Patricia had been captured on a security camera entering Victor's office the morning after the attack.
She was carrying a box.
"What was inside?"
"We don't know yet."
May you like
"But we're about to find out."
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