Chapter 4 - What Victoria Was HidingBy noon, two security officers were outside the Queens rehabilitation clinic where Rosa Torres underwent treatment following heart surgery.
Maya argued against it for approximately thirty seconds.
Then another photograph arrived.
This one showed the entrance of her apartment building.
She stopped arguing.
Daniel's corporate security director, Samuel Briggs, joined them at the Midtown office.
Former federal investigator.
Sixty-one.
Gray suit.
Expression permanently unimpressed.
He examined the messages.
“No obvious metadata,” he said.
“Can you trace the sender?” Daniel asked.
“We'll try. Could be disposable.”
Maya folded her arms.
“Are we calling the police?”
“Yes,” Daniel said.
Marcus nodded.
“Already contacted counsel. We're preserving everything.”
Maya looked relieved.
Daniel appreciated that.
He didn't want to become another wealthy man deciding that laws were inconvenient.
At 12:40, Victoria called.
Daniel stared at the name.
Maya said, “Answer.”
Marcus shook his head.
“Not without recording and counsel.”
New York allowed one-party recording, Marcus explained, but given the circumstances he wanted the call documented properly.
Daniel put Victoria on speaker.
“Hello.”
Her voice came soft.
“Daniel.”
No fury now.
No arrogance.
Almost tenderness.
He remembered falling in love with that voice.
“I need to see you.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“What do you want?”
“I want to explain.”
“Then explain.”
She was silent.
“Not over the phone.”
“Why?”
“Because you don't understand what's happening.”
Daniel glanced at Marcus.
“Then help me.”
Victoria lowered her voice.
“My father isn't what you think.”
That was unexpected.
Daniel waited.
“I've done things,” she said. “Things I didn't want to do.”
“Like kicking me?”
She inhaled sharply.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
“I was horrible last night.”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I was angry.”
“Anger doesn't move your foot by itself.”
“Daniel, please.”
He heard real emotion now.
Whether it was fear or manipulation, he couldn't tell.
“You need to stop digging into my father.”
Daniel's eyes met Marcus's.
“I never said I was.”
Victoria stopped.
Daniel continued.
“But you just confirmed there's something to find.”
“Damn it.”
“Where is Grant Mercer?”
The line went silent.
When Victoria answered, the softness was gone.
“I don't know.”
“Maya saw you with him.”
Victoria's breathing changed.
“She's lying.”
“She has a photograph.”
Complete silence.
Daniel could almost hear Victoria thinking.
Then she whispered, “You have no idea what you're doing.”
“Tell me.”
“No.”
“Victoria—”
“My father destroys people.”
The call disconnected.
Maya stared at the phone.
Marcus spoke first.
“That sounded genuine.”
“Parts of it,” Daniel said.
Samuel leaned against the wall.
“Fear can be genuine and manipulation can still be deliberate.”
Exactly.
Daniel wanted to believe there was some explanation for Victoria.
Not because he wanted her back.
That door was closed.
But because eight months of memories were easier to live with if every smile hadn't been false.
At two, Preston Sinclair issued a public statement.
He called the ballroom incident “an unfortunate private dispute exploited for publicity.”
He accused unnamed individuals of attempting to damage the Sinclair family's reputation ahead of a major real-estate transaction.
Daniel read it once.
Then his finance chief called.
“The Brooklyn lenders are nervous.”
“Good.”
“You want them nervous?”
“I want them paying attention.”
“There are rumors Sinclair may be overleveraged.”
Daniel looked at Marcus.
“Freeze our funding commitment.”
His finance chief hesitated.
“We have contractual obligations.”
“Exercise the due-diligence provision. No money moves until forensic review is complete.”
“That will probably kill the closing.”
“If the project is clean, it survives.”
“And if it isn't?”
Daniel looked at the image of Victoria holding the flash drive.
“Then it deserves to die.”
At four seventeen, they received their first break.
Samuel entered with a printed page.
“Grant Mercer used a credit card last night.”
“Where?”
“A gas station in Connecticut.”
“After the gala?”
“11:52 p.m.”
Maya frowned.
“The gala incident happened around ten.”
Samuel nodded.
“Grant left Manhattan shortly afterward.”
“Where was he headed?”
“Unknown. But his vehicle crossed into Massachusetts at 1:31.”
Daniel looked at Marcus.
“Running.”
“Maybe.”
Samuel continued.
“Before leaving, he sent an email to himself.”
“What email?”
“A blank one with an attachment.”
Daniel waited.
Samuel put a photograph on the table.
It showed a page of handwritten numbers.
At the top were four letters.
NORTHSTAR.
Marcus sat forward.
“I've seen that.”
“Where?”
“In the Sinclair records.”
He searched his laptop.
Northstar Holdings LLC had received payments from at least six Sinclair-controlled companies.
Total: $17.8 million.
“Owner?” Daniel asked.
“Hidden through multiple entities.”
Samuel's phone buzzed.
He read the message.
“Well, that's interesting.”
“What?”
“We found the registered agent for Northstar.”
He placed his screen on the table.
The registered agent was a Manhattan attorney named Charles Wynn.
Daniel knew the name.
Not personally.
But enough.
Wynn had represented Victoria in two previous civil settlements.
“What settlements?” Maya asked.
Marcus searched.
“One involving a former personal assistant. Confidential.”
“And the other?”
“A driver.”
Maya stared.
“The driver she slapped?”
“Could be.”
Daniel felt sick.
Victoria had not simply behaved badly around him.
There was a history.
Money had cleaned up the consequences.
Marcus continued reading.
“The personal assistant alleged workplace harassment and assault. Case dismissed after settlement.”
“Name?”
“Rachel Kim.”
Daniel said, “Find her.”
Marcus looked up.
“We can't pressure her to violate confidentiality.”
“I don't want her pressured. Ask if she's willing to speak to counsel about anything she's legally permitted to discuss.”
Maya looked at Daniel.
“You really didn't know any of this?”
“No.”
“How?”
Daniel considered the question.
Because he hadn't wanted to know.
That was the uncomfortable answer.
Victoria had shown him fragments.
A rude comment to a waiter.
A cruel joke about someone poorer.
A tantrum when a restaurant couldn't move another couple from the table she wanted.
Daniel had minimized all of it.
Stress.
Bad day.
Family pressure.
He had been testing whether Victoria loved him without his money, but he hadn't adequately tested whether she was kind when nobody could benefit her.
At six, Maya left for the clinic with security.
Daniel remained.
At seven-thirteen, Marcus received a response from Rachel Kim.
“She'll talk.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
Rachel chose a quiet attorney's office downtown.
She arrived wearing a camel coat, carrying no purse.
Thirty-one.
Calm eyes.
Careful posture.
Daniel introduced himself.
“I know who you are,” Rachel said.
“Then you probably know why I asked to meet.”
“The video.”
“Yes.”
Rachel looked toward Marcus.
“I have an NDA.”
“We won't ask you to violate it,” Marcus said.
Rachel laughed quietly.
“Everyone says that before asking questions that violate it.”
“Then don't answer anything you shouldn't.”
That surprised her.
Daniel leaned forward.
“I don't need gossip. I need to know whether someone may be in danger.”
Rachel's expression changed.
“Who?”
“Grant Mercer.”
She went still.
“You know Grant?”
“Do you?”
Rachel looked toward the door.
Then she stood.
“I shouldn't have come.”
Daniel didn't stop her.
She reached the door.
Paused.
Without turning around, she said, “Ask Victoria about Lake Ashford.”
Then she left.
Marcus immediately searched.
“Lake Ashford… Connecticut.”
Daniel's stomach tightened.
The gas station.
Grant was driving north.
“Property?”
Marcus searched.
“There are dozens.”
“Sinclair property.”
A moment.
Then:
“Got one.”
A large lake house registered to an entity called Ashford Leisure Holdings.
Daniel was already calling Samuel.
“We have a location.”
They contacted Connecticut authorities rather than driving themselves.
Daniel hated waiting.
By nine-thirty, police had reached the house.
No Grant.
But his car was there.
The back door was open.
At ten-oh-four, Samuel received a direct call from the lead detective.
Daniel watched his face.
“What?”
Samuel hung up slowly.
“They found blood.”
Maya, who had returned from the clinic, covered her mouth.
“How much?” Marcus asked.
“Enough to concern them.”
“Body?”
“No.”
Daniel looked toward the windows.
Manhattan glittered below like nothing was wrong.
Then Samuel continued.
“They also found a laptop hidden under the porch.”
“Grant's?”
“They think so.”
“What's on it?”
“Encrypted.”
Daniel's phone rang.
Victoria again.
He answered.
Her first words were:
“Grant is dead.”
Daniel stood.
“Police haven't said that.”
Victoria began crying.
Not elegant tears.
Not camera tears.
She sounded broken.
“My father found out.”
“Found out what?”
“What Grant and I did.”
“What did you do?”
“I gave him the files.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
The flash drive.
“Why?”
“Because Grant discovered my father was stealing from the project.”
“Through Northstar?”
Victoria gasped.
“You know.”
“We know enough.”
“No, you don't.”
“Then tell me everything.”
She sobbed.
“My father used my company. VLS. He put money through it. He said it was tax planning. I signed things.”
“How much?”
“I don't know.”
“You received millions.”
“I never saw most of it.”
“Where did it go?”
“Back to companies he controlled.”
Daniel looked at Marcus.
Money laundering through related entities.
Potential fraud.
Victoria continued.
“Grant found fake invoices. He said investor money was being redirected. I gave him internal files because I wanted proof.”
Daniel struggled to reconcile the terrified woman on the phone with the woman who had kicked him.
“Why didn't you come to me?”
“Because until last night I thought you were a project manager!”
Even Marcus winced.
Daniel almost laughed at the absurdity.
Victoria continued.
“Then I discovered who you were, and suddenly everything became worse.”
“Why?”
“Because your fund is financing Brooklyn.”
Daniel went still.
“You knew?”
“I found out after you left.”
Preston must have discovered the ownership.
“What does your father want?”
“To keep the deal alive.”
“And Grant?”
“He called me after midnight. Said he had enough evidence to put my father in prison.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don't know.”
“Why did you say he's dead?”
“Because my father called me twenty minutes ago.”
Daniel's voice lowered.
“What did he say?”
Victoria whispered:
“He said Grant won't be causing problems anymore.”
Silence.
Then Daniel heard a door open on Victoria's end.
Her breathing stopped.
A man's voice came from farther away.
“Victoria?”
Preston.
Victoria whispered, “Oh God.”
“Where are you?” Daniel asked.
She didn't answer.
Preston's voice came closer.
“Who are you talking to?”
The call ended.
Daniel immediately turned to Samuel.
“Trace her location.”
Marcus was already contacting police.
Maya looked terrified.
Daniel stared at Victoria's name on the dark phone screen.
He had ended their engagement less than twenty-four hours ago.
He had every reason to hate her.
But hate wasn't a death sentence.
May you like
“Find her,” he said.
And this time, nobody in the room hesitated.
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