He looked ashamed.
“Presentation.”
I stared at him.
“That’s not a policy.”
“I know.”
“Income?”
“Sometimes.”
“Clothing?”
“Yes.”
“Race?”
His silence lasted too long.
Richard swore quietly.
Victoria snapped, “Nobody said race.”
I turned toward her.
“Did anyone need to?”
She opened her mouth.
No answer.
Jasmine looked toward the security guards.
“One of them refused to remove a customer last week.”
The younger guard beside the entrance raised his eyes.
“Was that you?” I asked.
He nodded.
“What happened?”
“I got written up.”
“For what?”
He hesitated.
“Failure to protect brand environment.”
That phrase hit me like acid.
“Who signed the write-up?”
He looked at Martin.
Martin’s shoulders fell.
“I did.”
I stared at him.
“Why?”
“I was afraid.”
“Of losing your job?”
“Yes.”
I nodded.
“Now you have.”
He looked down.
I hated that answer.
But I hated the system that had made employees believe prejudice was safer than resistance even more.
Richard stepped toward Victoria.
“You worked with Lark?”
“Yes.”
“How closely?”
She hesitated.
“That depends what you mean.”
His face darkened.
“How closely?”
“I attended planning meetings.”
My pulse quickened.
“You were not part of the transaction team,” I said.
“I’m family.”
“That isn’t authority.”
She ignored me.
Richard didn’t.
“How many meetings?”
“Maybe six.”
“With who?”
“Lark’s managing partner.”
“Name.”
She paused.
“Adrian Cole.”
I knew him.
Everybody in private equity knew him.
Aggressive.
Smart.
Too comfortable with conflicts.
Richard’s face went pale.
“Adrian?”
Victoria frowned.
“What?”
Her father looked at me.
“Adrian used to work for us.”
I understood the problem immediately.
“How long ago?”
“Seven years.”
“In what role?”
“Strategy.”
“Why did he leave?”
Richard didn’t answer.
Victoria looked between us.
“Why does that matter?”
Richard stared at his daughter.
“Because he was fired.”
Her eyes widened.
“For what?”
“Unauthorized transfer of confidential information.”
Silence.
I felt the pieces shifting.
An unapproved consulting firm.
Internal store directives.
Client profiling.
A frozen bank facility.
Maybe this wasn’t just entitlement.
Maybe somebody had been using Victoria’s arrogance as access.
My phone rang.
My chief counsel.
I answered.
“Talk to me.”
“Simone, we found something.”
I stepped away from the group.
“What?”
“Lark Advisory received internal Bellamy sales data three weeks ago.”
My body went still.
“From our system?”
“Yes.”
“Authorized?”
“No.”
“How much?”
“Customer profiles, store performance, supplier contracts, lease terms.”
That was acquisition-grade data.
Potentially devastating in the wrong hands.
“Source?”
“We’re tracing it.”
I looked at Victoria.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
My attorney hesitated.
“Lark forwarded portions to an outside investment fund.”
My stomach tightened.
“Which fund?”
“North Coast Partners.”
I knew that name too.
A competitor.
One that had tried to buy Bellamy from me two years earlier.
I ended the call.
Richard saw my face.
“What happened?”
I told him.
His expression collapsed.
Victoria looked confused.
“Adrian said sharing data was normal.”
I stared at her.
“You gave him access?”
“No.”
“Then how did he get it?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
“Think.”
“I introduced him to people.”
“Who?”
She looked toward Martin.
My eyes followed.
Martin went pale.
I walked toward him.
“Did you give Lark system credentials?”
“No.”
“Did anyone at this store?”
He swallowed.
“One analyst visited.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“Name.”
“Ethan Marsh.”
Richard stiffened.
Victoria noticed.
“What?”
He whispered, “Ethan works for Whitmore Capital.”
I looked at him.
“Currently?”
“Yes.”
Now it was his company too.
His employee.
His fired former strategist.
His daughter.
My stolen data.
Richard pulled out his phone.
“I’m calling security.”
I stopped him.
“Not yet.”
He looked at me.
“Why?”
“Because if someone inside your company helped steal information, I want to know how far it goes before they realize we know.”
Victoria looked suddenly afraid.
Not arrogant.
Afraid.
“Dad.”
Richard turned.
She swallowed.
“Ethan wasn’t just helping Adrian.”
My eyes narrowed.
“What do you mean?”
She looked at me.
Then at her father.
“I introduced them.”
Richard’s face hardened.
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Why?”
Victoria’s voice dropped.
“Because Adrian told me you were planning to cut me out of the family company.”
Richard froze.
“I never said that.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“I never planned that.”
Her confidence cracked.
“He showed me documents.”
“What documents?”
She reached for her handbag.
Then stopped.
Her face went white.
“It’s gone.”
“What?”
“My tablet.”
The emerald confidence vanished completely.
“My tablet was in my bag.”
She looked around the boutique.
“It has every message Adrian sent me.”
Richard’s expression changed from anger to alarm.
“Where did you last see it?”
Victoria whispered:
“In the private fitting room.”
We all turned toward the corridor.
The door at the end was slowly swinging shut.
Someone had just left.
I ran before anybody else moved.
The fitting corridor curved behind the main salon and led toward a staff stairwell.
By the time I reached it, the door was open.
Footsteps hammered downward.
“Security!”
One of the guards rushed past me.
I followed.
Richard shouted my name from behind.
I ignored him.
I wasn’t chasing a tablet.
I was chasing evidence.
The stairwell emptied onto a service hallway behind the building.
When I pushed through the final door, cold air hit my face.
A man in a dark coat was already halfway toward the loading area.
“Stop!”
He looked back.
Young.
Thirty, maybe.
Then he ran faster.
The security guard chased him around a delivery truck.
I pulled out my phone.
Not to call police.
To photograph him.
Three shots.
One caught his face.
He disappeared toward the avenue.
The guard returned a minute later, breathing hard.
“Lost him.”
I showed him the picture.
“Do you know him?”
He looked carefully.
Then nodded.
“I’ve seen him.”
“Where?”
“Inside the store.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
“Employee?”
“No.”
He frowned.
“He was with Mr. Marsh.”
Ethan.
Whitmore’s employee.
Good.
We had a connection.
Bad.
The connection was getting stronger.
Back upstairs, Victoria looked shaken.
Richard looked furious.
Martin looked ready to disappear.
I held up the photo.
Victoria’s face changed immediately.
“Caleb.”
“Who is Caleb?”
“Adrian’s assistant.”
Richard swore.
I sent the photograph to my attorney.
“Why would he steal your tablet?” I asked.
Victoria looked embarrassed.
“Because Adrian knew what was on it.”
“Which was?”
“Messages.”
“About the acquisition?”
“Yes.”
“About the customer lists?”
She looked away.
“Yes.”
My anger sharpened.
“You knew those directives came from him.”
“I knew he suggested them.”
“You let him test discriminatory policies in my stores.”
Her eyes filled.
“I didn’t think of it that way.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I thought he was showing me how brands protect exclusivity.”
“By deciding which people look rich enough to enter?”
She had no answer.
Richard spoke quietly.
“Victoria, give me your phone.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Now.”
She handed it over.
He scrolled.
His face became harder with every second.
“What?” I asked.
He turned the phone toward me.
A message thread.
Adrian.
One message stood out.
Once the transaction closes, your father won’t control the board. We’ll fix that next.
I looked at Richard.
He had seen it too.
“Did you know what he meant?” I asked Victoria.
She shook her head.
“He told me you were weak.”
Richard’s eyes closed briefly.
“He told me you were going to sell pieces of the company and retire.”
Richard looked at his daughter.
“I was planning to give you a board seat.”
Victoria’s face broke.
“What?”
“I was waiting until after the acquisition.”
She stared at him.
“You never told me.”
“I wanted you to earn it.”
She laughed bitterly.
“So you tested me?”
“No.”
“I spent my whole life trying to prove I belonged there.”
Richard’s anger softened slightly.
But only slightly.
“And you proved it by conspiring with a man I fired?”
“I didn’t know why you fired him.”
“You could have asked.”
“You never tell me anything.”
That hit him.
I could see it.
But this was not the time for a family therapy session.
I stepped between them.
“Whatever problems exist between you two, Adrian used them.”
Victoria looked at me.
“He made me believe my father was replacing me.”
“Because fear makes people easier to manipulate.”
She wiped her face.
“I thought if I helped him improve Bellamy before closing, Dad would see I was useful.”
Richard’s voice was low.
“You were useful.”
She looked at him.
“To Adrian.”
That hurt.
I saw it land.
My phone rang again.
My chief counsel.
“We traced one data pull.”
“Source?”
“Bellamy internal credential.”
“Whose?”
Pause.
“Martin Ellis.”
Everybody in the room heard the silence that followed.
I turned slowly.
Martin’s face emptied.
“No.”
I put the call on speaker.
My attorney continued.
“His credentials were used remotely at 2:14 a.m. twelve days ago.”
Martin shook his head.
“I was home.”
“Did you share your password?”
“No.”
“Did anyone ask for it?”
He thought.
Then froze.
I saw the answer arrive.
“The analyst.”
“Ethan?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
“He said corporate was installing an inventory dashboard.”
My jaw tightened.
“Did you log in for him?”
“Yes.”
“Did he watch?”
Martin closed his eyes.
“Yes.”
My attorney spoke.
“That may be enough.”
Richard said, “Ethan’s access should be revoked immediately.”
“Already done,” my attorney replied.
I looked at Richard.
“You didn’t authorize that.”
He stared at me.
“You did?”
“My people called your compliance team after I canceled the deal.”
For the first time all day, he almost smiled.
“Good.”
A sales associate came rushing from the front.
“Ms. Carter?”
“What?”
“There are reporters outside.”
Victoria muttered something under her breath.
I walked toward the window.
Six cameras already faced the store.
That was too fast.
Much too fast.
“Who tipped them?” I asked.
Nobody answered.
A reporter held up her phone.
A headline was already circulating.
BELLAMY OWNER CANCELS WHITMORE DEAL AFTER DISPUTE WITH HEIRESS.
Another.
BILLIONAIRE CEO ACCUSED OF RETALIATION AGAINST CUSTOMER.
I stared at the screen.
There it was.
The story had been flipped.
Instead of Victoria humiliating me, I was now an unstable owner who killed a major deal because a customer argued with me.
Adrian was moving.
Fast.
Richard saw the headlines.
“That’s him.”
“You’re sure?”
“He used media leaks when he worked for us.”
Victoria whispered, “He told me you hated journalists because they could expose you.”
Richard laughed bitterly.
“I hated him because he bribed one.”
She went still.
“He what?”
“Seven years ago, he paid a reporter to bury a story about a fund he wanted us to invest in.”
Victoria sat down.
Everything she believed about Adrian was collapsing.
I looked toward the front doors.
“We need facts before we respond.”
Richard nodded.
Then his phone rang.
He checked the screen.
“Board chair.”
“Take it.”
He answered.
I listened only to his side.
“Yes.”
“No.”
“I understand.”
His face tightened.
“When?”
He looked at me.
“Send it.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?”
“Our board received an anonymous packet.”
My stomach sank.
“About what?”
“Me.”
Victoria frowned.
“What about you?”
Richard looked at her.
“It claims I hid losses from Whitmore investors.”
“Is that true?”