When she asked whether the folder belonged to him, the manager had told her to forget about it.
Later, he instructed her to dispose of it.
That was when Elena realized the document might be more important than anyone wanted her to know.
Now Victor was reading it.
He turned another page.
"These payments," he said. "Who else has seen them?"
"Only me, as far as I know."
"That is not what I asked."
Elena understood the threat hidden inside the question.
"If I knew that someone else had seen them, I would tell you."
Victor closed the folder.
"Where is the original?"
"This is a copy."
His eyes narrowed.
"Then where is the original?"
"Somewhere safe."
One bodyguard moved closer to the table.
Victor raised two fingers, and the man stopped.
"Do you believe you are clever, Miss Carter?"
"No, sir."
"Then perhaps you can explain why you have brought evidence of financial fraud to a man whose name is written on the front page of the report."
Elena glanced down.
His name appeared beneath the heading identifying the company that had authorized the payments.
"I brought it to you because I thought you should know what your people are doing."
Victor gave a short, humorless laugh.
"My people?"
"The payments came from your companies."
"Companies I own employ hundreds of people. I do not personally approve every invoice."
"Then perhaps someone has been using your name without your permission."
Victor stared at her.
For a moment, he said nothing.
The possibility was not new to him.
Over the previous six months, he had noticed discrepancies in several accounts. He had dismissed them as bookkeeping errors, temporary problems, or the ordinary cost of maintaining a large organization.
Anthony Bell had assured him that everything was under control.
Anthony had been with Victor for fourteen years.
He knew the company's structure, the private accounts, the names of every important client, and the weaknesses of nearly every man in the organization.
Victor had trusted him more than most people.
Perhaps more than he should have.
"Who gave you permission to investigate my business?" Victor asked.
"I wasn't investigating your business."
"Yet here you are, presenting financial records to me."
"I found something that looked wrong. I tried to return it. Your manager told me to throw it away."
Victor turned toward the manager.
"Is that true?"
The manager swallowed.
"Mr. Moretti, the situation has been misunderstood. I was trying to protect the restaurant from an unnecessary scandal."
"That is not an answer."
"I—"
"Did you tell her to destroy the folder?"
The manager's face reddened.
"I told her to put it aside."
Elena shook her head.
"You told me to put it in the kitchen waste bin."
The manager glared at her.
"Be quiet."
Victor's hand struck the table.
The sound startled the nearby diners.
"Nobody tells her to be quiet while I am speaking."
The manager immediately lowered his head.
Victor opened the folder again and examined the photograph.
"Where was this taken?"
"Outside Warehouse Twelve," Elena replied.
"Who told you that?"
"The woman who brought the photograph to me."
"Daniel Reed's wife?"
Elena was surprised.
"You know about her?"
"I know Daniel Reed disappeared."
"Then you know someone is lying about what happened to him."
Victor's expression became unreadable.
"Be careful with your accusations."
"I am being careful. That's why I brought evidence instead of rumors."
For several seconds, Victor studied her.
He had met judges, politicians, businessmen, and criminals who could lie without changing their expressions. He had learned to recognize fear, greed, and ambition.
Elena was afraid.
He could see it in the tension around her mouth and the way she held her shoulders.
But she was not trying to impress him.
She was not asking for money.
She was not demanding protection.
She simply wanted him to look at the evidence.
That made her more difficult to understand than most people he encountered.
Victor closed the folder.
"Leave it with me."
Elena hesitated.
"I need to know that you'll investigate it."
"You are a waitress. You have no authority to tell me how to run my business."
"And you are a powerful man. That doesn't mean you should ignore evidence because you don't like who brought it to you."
The bodyguards stiffened.
Victor slowly raised his eyes.
Elena realized that she had pushed him further than she intended.
But it was too late to retreat.
"I am not asking you to trust me," she continued. "I'm asking you to look at the facts."
Victor's expression remained hard.
"Do you know what I could do to you?"
"Yes."
"Then why are you still standing here?"
Elena looked directly at him.
"Because I know what happens when everyone else is too frightened to stand here."
For the first time, Victor did not have an immediate answer.
The manager looked as though he might faint.
A few tables away, a businessman quietly asked for his bill.
Victor noticed none of it.
He was staring at the waitress who had just reminded him of a truth he had spent years avoiding.
Fear could make people obedient.
It could make them polite.
It could make them appear loyal.
But fear could never tell him whether the people around him were honest.
"Leave the folder," he said finally.
Elena nodded.
"Thank you, sir."
"Do not thank me yet."
She turned to leave.
"Miss Carter."
She stopped.
Victor tapped the folder with one finger.
"If this is a trick, I will find out."
Elena looked back.
"And if it isn't?"
Victor said nothing.
She walked away.
Behind her, the two bodyguards watched with expressions of disbelief.
The manager hurried after her, whispering angrily that she had endangered the entire restaurant.