Chapter 45: Her Terms

The scream echoed through Verline.

Every person in the conference room froze.

The emergency lights painted the walls crimson.

"Stay here," Damien ordered.

"No," I answered immediately.

"If this is about me, I'm not hiding."

Victor pulled a small flashlight from his coat.

"Together," he said.

"Nobody separates."

Arthur opened the conference-room door.

The corridor outside was almost completely dark.

Employees stood motionless, whispering to one another.

"Backup generator should've started already," Rose said quietly.

"It always does."

They hurried downstairs.

The scream had come from the main showroom.

As they reached the entrance, security guards were already pushing employees back.

"Move aside," Damien ordered.

The guards immediately obeyed.

The showroom looked untouched.

Glass displays remained intact.

Nothing appeared stolen.

Then I saw the centre pedestal.

My newest cradle pendant had disappeared.

In its place sat a black envelope.

"Don't touch it," Victor warned.

Arthur photographed the display before anyone moved.

Only then did Victor carefully lift the envelope.

Inside rested a single white card.

Three words were typed across the centre.

"Paris.

Or funeral."

No signature.

No explanation.

Damien's jaw tightened.

"They're escalating."

"Because they're losing," Victor replied.

Arthur searched beneath the pedestal.

"There's something else."

He crouched lower.

A tiny wireless camera had been taped underneath the display.

"Hidden surveillance," Arthur said.

"They wanted to watch whoever found the message."

"Can we trace it?" I asked.

"Maybe."

"If it transmitted live, someone nearby received the signal."

Security began sweeping the building.

Within thirty minutes they found nothing.

No intruders.

No forced entry.

Only one disabled electrical panel.

"An inside job," Victor concluded.

"Again."

The power returned.

Employees slowly resumed working.

Most avoided looking directly at me.

By evening, only four people remained inside Verline.

Victor.

Arthur.

Damien.

And me.

The black envelope rested on the conference table beside Nathaniel's photograph.

"They've given you a choice," Damien said.

"Leave... or die."

"No," I corrected quietly.

"They think they've given me a choice."

Victor folded his arms.

"So what do you intend to do?"

I looked at each of them.

Then I reached into my handbag.

I removed the Paris contract.

Without reading another line, I placed it beside the anonymous threat.

"These are my terms."

Nobody interrupted.

"First," I said.

"Verline stays open."

"Not one employee loses their job because someone wants to frighten me."

"Second."

"The lawsuit continues."

"We're not settling."

"Not for money."

"Not for silence."

"Third."

"Nathaniel's name is cleared before this ends."

"Officially."

"Publicly."

"And permanently."

Victor nodded.

"Agreed."

"Fourth."

This time I looked directly at Damien.

"No more secrets between us."

"If either of us discovers something... the other hears it immediately."

He didn't hesitate.

"Agreed."

"Even if it destroys the Ashford family?"

"Especially then."

His answer surprised everyone.

Including me.

"And finally," I continued.

"If this is over... and only if Nathaniel receives justice..."

My fingers rested on the Paris contract.

"Then I decide where I belong."

"No one else."

Damien lowered his eyes.

"That's how it always should've been."

Victor smiled faintly.

"Good."

"Now everyone understands what's at stake."

Arthur suddenly entered the room carrying a tablet.

"We traced the wireless camera."

"Already?" Victor asked.

"Only partially."

"The transmission ended four minutes after the power outage."

"Where did it go?"

"Not far."

"The receiver was inside the Verline parking garage."

"Do we have CCTV?" Damien asked.

"Yes."

Arthur played the footage.

A black sedan exited the underground garage during the blackout.

Its licence plate had been covered.

The driver's face remained hidden beneath a cap.

"Zoom in," Victor said.

Arthur enlarged the passenger window.

The image became grainy.

Almost impossible to recognise.

Then the passenger turned slightly.

Just enough.

A familiar silver brooch caught the headlights.

My breathing stopped.

I knew that brooch.

I had designed it myself.

Only three copies had ever existed.

One belonged to Eleanor.

One belonged to me.

The third...

I had given to Colette on the morning of my wedding.

Victor looked at me.

"You recognise it."

"Yes."

"Then our next move is obvious."

"Find Colette," Damien said.

"No," I answered.

Everyone looked at me.

"Colette isn't the one giving orders anymore."

"She's running from someone too."

"Then who are we looking for?" Arthur asked.

I stared at the frozen image on the screen.

The silver brooch reflected one final beam of light.

"The person who paid her to betray all of us."