Camille took off her waitress badge.
She placed it on the overturned tray.
Then she looked at Antoine.
"We were supposed to sign at nine-thirty."
He looked at his watch.
Twenty-three hours twelve.
"Yes."
"We will not sign this evening."
Antoine's jaw clenched.
"Camille, what has just happened is unacceptable, but—"
"It's not just what just happened.
He stopped.
This sentence worried him more than anything else.
Camille turned to the employees.
Some had lowered their eyes.
Others were finally looking at her.
— I've been working with your events teams for two days.
Antoine turned pale.
"Excuse me?"
Victoire stared at her.
"Did you disguise yourself?"
Camille turned her eyes to her.
"I carried trays, cleaned tables, moved boxes, served glasses, and finished at two o'clock in the morning yesterday.
She paused.
— I'm not sure that people who actually do this work would appreciate the word 'disguised.'
Victoire looked away.
Antoine, on the other hand, understood gradually.
Four months earlier, Laurent Patrimoine had received several anonymous reports concerning the methods of Delacroix Collection.
Seasonal workers not called back after protesting.
Preparation time incorrectly accounted for.
Excessive pressure during high-end events.
Managers asking teams to put up with the humiliation of customers "because they pay".
Antoine had ordered an audit.
The report was reassuring.
Camille had not believed him.
So she asked to discreetly join two events organized by a subsidiary of Delacroix Collection.
His legal counsel had protested.
His aunt had protested more.
Camille had done it anyway.
Antoine ran a hand over her face.
"You could have come to see me directly."
Camille looked at Victoire.
"Would this evening have gone the same way if everyone had known who I was?"
Antoine did not answer.
It was the only possible answer.
The glass doors of the villa opened.
A man of about fifty years of age appeared.
Julien Renaud, lead counsel to Laurent Patrimoine.
Behind him came Hélène Laurent, Camille's aunt and vice-president of the council.
Then two directors, a specialist in social law, an investment banker and the director of hotel operations.
Antoine recognized each of them.
Victory too.
It was not a social convoy.
It was the team that had to make the deal.
Master Renaud approached Camille.
He stopped when he saw her clothes.
"Are you injured?"
"No.
"Your hand."
Camille lowered her eyes.
A small red cut went through his palm.
"Nothing serious."
Renaud looked at Victoire.
Camille intervened.
"Not now.
He nodded.
Helene arrived in her turn.
She looked at Camille.
Then the swimming pool.
Then Antoine.
"I guess we're going to have a long night.
Camille replied:
"Probably.
Antoine took a breath.
"Camille, I'm just asking that we separate personal behavior from twenty years of potential collaboration.
Camille looked at him.
"That is precisely what I intend to verify.
— Comment ?
"By finding out if what has just happened to me was exceptional.
She looked at the employees.
Then the event manager who had held the young waitress by the arm.
— Or if your company has learned to see humiliation as part of the service.
Antoine did not answer.
Camille turned to Master Renaud.
— Keep all security images. Prohibition of contacting employees before interviews. No one is suppressing anything.
"Understood."
"And no one publishes the video of the pool.
Victoire looked up.
Camille continues:
"It is not a spectacle.
For the first time, Victoire seemed really unsettled.
She had thought that Camille would want revenge.
Humiliate him.
Destroy it in front of the phones.
Instead, the young woman she threw into the pool was already protecting a boundary that no one had protected for her.
Camille began to walk towards the villa.
Antony stopped him.
"What happens now?"
She turned around.
"Now, M. Delacroix, we are going to find out what your name is really worth when it impresses no one."
Then she entered.
Behind her, the gate closed slowly.
And for the first time in years, Victoire Delacroix wondered if her family's power could disappear faster than it had been built.
PART 2 — WHY CAMILLE WORE A TRAY
At 12:30 a.m., the Villa des Orangers had regained its silence.