Chapter 5 - WHAT HIS FATHER KNEWNathan followed Charles into the private boardroom.
I did not.
Some conversations belonged between fathers and sons, even when both men had made those conversations my problem.
Instead, I went downstairs.
The Bellmont Crown had opened less than twenty-four hours earlier, and already employees were moving through the lobby with the careful expression of people who knew something catastrophic had happened upstairs.
I found the woman I wanted near the concierge desk.
Her name was Maria Alvarez.
She was fifty-six, had worked for Bellmont Hospitality for twenty-nine years, and had started as a housekeeper before becoming regional director of guest services.
Unlike Nathan’s senior executives, Maria had recognized my maiden name years ago.
She never said anything.
“Mrs. Bellmont.”
“Claire.”
She smiled.
“Claire.”
I glanced toward the lobby cafe.
“Coffee?”
She studied my face.
“I think you need something stronger.”
“I probably do.”
We settled for coffee.
Maria waited until we were seated.
“Are people going to lose their jobs?”
That was why I liked her.
No curiosity about my marriage.
No gossip about Vanessa.
Employees.
“No,” I said.
“Not if I can prevent it.”
She nodded.
“Then I’ll help however I can.”
“Did Vanessa interfere with hotel operations?”
Maria hesitated.
“How much do you already know?”
“Enough that honesty is safer.”
She sighed.
“Then yes.”
“How?”
“She changed suppliers.”
“What kind?”
“Linens. Flowers. Guest amenities. Security contractors. Some staffing vendors.”
My mind sharpened.
“Were they more expensive?”
“Much.”
“Did Nathan know?”
“He signed off.”
Of course he did.
Nathan’s weakness wasn’t stupidity.
It was vanity.
If someone framed an expensive decision as evidence Bellmont was becoming elite, he became easier to convince.
“Did Vanessa ever pressure you?”
Maria looked toward the lobby.
“Three months ago, she wanted me to terminate a purchasing manager.”
“Why?”
“He kept questioning invoices.”
“What was his name?”
“Daniel Kim.”
“Was he terminated?”
“No.”
I smiled faintly.
“You refused?”
“I told her she could fire me first.”
I liked Maria even more.
“Where is Daniel?”
“He resigned.”
“When?”
“Six weeks ago.”
“Do you know why?”
“He wouldn’t say.”
Maria paused.
“But before he left, he gave me an envelope.”
My pulse accelerated.
“Do you still have it?”
“Yes.”
“What’s inside?”
“I don’t know.”
“You never opened it?”
“He told me not to unless something happened to him.”
I stared.
“What do you mean, happened?”
“He said, ‘If anyone says I stole from the company, open this.’”
I sat back.
“Did anyone accuse him?”
“Not publicly.”
“Bring me the envelope.”
Twenty minutes later, Maria returned with a thick yellow envelope.
Daniel’s handwriting was on the front.
FOR MARIA — IF THEY TRY TO BLAME ME.
Inside were copies of invoices.
Dozens.
The vendors were unfamiliar.
But the bank routing information wasn’t.
Several companies used accounts linked to the same financial institution that held VLC Strategic Solutions.
There were also emails.
One from Vanessa:
Daniel, stop creating unnecessary delays. Mr. Bellmont expects these payments processed today.
Daniel replied:
Please provide executed vendor agreements and proof of service. Finance requires documentation for invoices above $50,000.
Vanessa:
Nathan already approved them. Do you want me to tell him you’re refusing his instructions?
And then another email.
Not from Vanessa.
From Charles.
Daniel — process the payments. I’ll take responsibility.
I read it twice.
Maria watched me.
“Bad?”
“Yes.”
“How bad?”
“Potentially criminal.”
She closed her eyes.
I called Rebecca.
Then Victor.
Then Daniel Kim.
His number was disconnected.
By noon, our investigators had located him in Milwaukee.
He agreed to speak by video.
Daniel appeared on screen from what looked like a small apartment.
He was thirty-four, thin, nervous, and visibly relieved when Maria joined me.
“I thought nobody believed me.”
“We’re listening now,” I said.
He looked at my face.
“I saw the video.”
“I’m collecting memorable experiences.”
That earned a weak laugh.
Then I asked him about the invoices.
Daniel explained everything.
Vanessa brought in vendors.
Prices inflated.
Services sometimes duplicated work already handled by existing providers.
Whenever Daniel challenged payments, Vanessa claimed Nathan had personally approved them.
Sometimes Nathan had.
Sometimes he hadn’t.
“And Charles?” I asked.
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Mr. Bellmont senior intervened several times.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you ever ask?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Daniel leaned toward the screen.
“He said Bellmont needed temporary flexibility to establish alternative financing relationships.”
Westbridge.
I felt it immediately.
“Did he mention an investor?”
“No name.”
“When did you resign?”
“After Vanessa accused me of leaking vendor data.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you go to Nathan?”
“I tried.”
I frowned.
“What happened?”
“I requested three meetings.”
“And?”
“Vanessa canceled all three.”
Nathan’s secretary controlled access to him.
Of course.
“What about email?”
“I sent a memo.”
“Did Nathan receive it?”
“I don’t know.”
Daniel opened a folder.
“I have the sent copy.”
It was addressed directly to Nathan.
Subject line:
URGENT — Vendor Payment Irregularities / Potential Related-Party Exposure
Nathan had never mentioned it.
Maybe he had ignored it.
Maybe Vanessa intercepted it.
Either answer was bad.
Daniel continued.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“The night before I resigned, I saw Charles with Vanessa.”
“Where?”
“The parking garage at Bellmont headquarters.”
“That doesn’t sound unusual.”
“It was midnight.”
I waited.
Daniel swallowed.
“They were arguing.”
“About?”
“I couldn’t hear everything.”
“What did you hear?”
He hesitated.
“Charles said, ‘You were supposed to pressure him, not rob us blind.’”
Silence.
There it was.
Charles knew.
Maybe not everything.
But enough.
When the call ended, I returned upstairs.
Nathan was alone in the executive lounge.
He stood at the windows overlooking the lake.
His tuxedo from the previous night had been replaced by a blue suit.
But he still looked exhausted.
“Dad left.”
I closed the door.
“What did he tell you?”
Nathan laughed bitterly.
“That depends which lie you mean.”
I waited.
“He knew your family controlled the debt before we got married.”
“Yes.”
“He found out during due diligence on an old refinance.”
“Why didn’t he tell you?”
Nathan looked at me.
“Because he wanted me to marry you.”
That hurt more than I expected.
I said nothing.
“He thought your family connection would protect Bellmont.”
There it was.
Our wedding.
My vows.
Seven years.
And somewhere behind them, Charles had apparently seen a financing strategy.
Nathan continued.
“He told me your family was comfortable, but he deliberately minimized it. Said mentioning Bellmont’s problems might scare you away.”
I looked down.
“Did you marry me for money?”
Nathan crossed the room immediately.
“No.”
I raised a hand.
“Think before answering.”
“I loved you.”
“Loved?”
His expression broke.
“Love.”
I met his eyes.
“Then why did you allow another woman to humiliate me?”
He couldn’t answer.
“Why did you threaten me with divorce?”
“Because I was angry.”
“No. Anger doesn’t create beliefs. It exposes them.”
He looked away.
I continued.
“You believed your opening mattered more than my dignity.”
“That isn’t—”
“You saw her pour wine on me.”
Silence.
“You saw her slap me.”
His eyes filled.
“I know.”
“And your first instinct was to protect the event.”
“Yes.”
The word was barely audible.
I nodded.
Finally.
Truth.
He stepped closer.
“Claire, I don’t expect you to forgive me today.”
“I don’t know whether I’ll forgive you ever.”
He absorbed that.
“I’ll spend the rest of my life proving—”
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
“Don’t make another dramatic promise because you’re terrified.”
I placed Daniel Kim’s documents on the table.
“You need to focus on your company.”
Nathan read them.
His face changed line by line.
When he reached Charles’s email, his hands began trembling.
“He was involved.”
“Yes.”
“In what?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Nathan lowered the paper.
“I want him removed.”
“From what?”
“Everything.”
“Your father is board chairman.”
“Then call the board.”
I studied him.
“Are you asking me to use lender rights to remove your father?”
He hesitated.
Then shook his head.
“No.”
Good.
“I’m asking for a board investigation. Let evidence decide.”
For the first time since the opening, Nathan said something that made me remember why I had once trusted him.
“Okay.”
My phone rang.
Victor.
I answered.
“Claire.”
His tone told me immediately.
“What happened?”
“We traced another Westbridge-linked payment.”
“To Vanessa?”
“No.”
“Charles?”
“No.”
I stood.
“Who?”
Victor paused.
“Nathan.”
I looked at my husband.
He was watching me.
“What?” he asked.
I didn’t answer.
Victor continued.
“Two point three million dollars. An account registered under his name.”
And suddenly the possibility I had been avoiding was standing directly in front of me.
May you like
Maybe Nathan hadn’t merely been careless.
Maybe he had been involved all along.
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