Chapter 61 Chapter 61
Chapter 61 Chapter 61
Ninety seconds later, the office door burst open, and two of Derek’s men stormed in, taking up firing positions with their guns raised and their sights locked on Vanessa.
“Hands up, Ashford!”
Vanessa, still crouched beside the armchair with her right wrist red from the blow from the dispenser, slowly raised both hands without picking up the gun from the floor. One of the men kicked the gun into the corner; the other grabbed her arms, lifted her up, spun her against the wall, and handcuffed her in thirty seconds.
Laura was still standing next to the filing cabinet with the landline phone still in her left hand.
“Ma’am, are you okay?”
“I’m fine.”
“The child?”
“Fine. But I want Vargas at the mansion when we get there.”
“All right.”
Vanessa stood against the wall with both hands handcuffed behind her back, her breathing labored by the position.
“Sister-in-law.”
“Vanessa.”
“One thing before you take me away.”
“Go ahead.”
“The information I gave you is valid.”
—I know.
—My father-in-law is going to talk to you tomorrow morning. But I’m warning you now: what you offered me with a gun in your hand isn’t the same as what we’re going to discuss tomorrow without a gun. The gun drove the price down.
—Okay.
Pause.
Cavalier walked into the office three minutes later, his jacket slung over his arm and the scar on his chest throbbing again. He took two steps toward Laura and cupped her face with both hands.
—Laura.
—Cavalier.
“Did it happen to you?”
“No.”
“The child?”
—Good.
He kissed her forehead and turned to Vanessa.
“Vanessa.”
“Cavalier.”
—No one is leaving the country. And that gun on my wife’s desk brought your bargaining power down to zero. This time you’re going to a real maximum-security federal prison—no phony lawyers, no judges on leave, nothing. Got it?
—Fine.
—But let me warn you about one thing, Vanessa. You’re going to confirm the information about Marcelo in the sedan before we get to the mansion. If you confirm it in detail, my grandfather will decide tomorrow what we’re going to do with your father. If you don’t confirm it, he won’t.
—I’ll confirm it.
—Good.
—Cavalier.
—Yes.
—One question before we get in the sedan.
—Go ahead.
“Is your brother going to arrive before the baby is born?”
Cavalier looked at her for five seconds.
“Yes, Vanessa. If the information you’re giving me is correct, before the end of the year.”
—Good.
Derek’s two men escorted Vanessa out through the service elevator. Before crossing the threshold of the office, Vanessa turned her head as far as she could with her hands cuffed.
“Sister-in-law.”
“Vanessa.”
“One more thing.”
“Go ahead.”
“Marcelo is coming back.”
—I know.
—No. You don’t know that. Marcelo is coming back, and he’ll arrive on the day you least expect it—not because of the inheritance, not because of your father-in-law, not because of your husband. He’s coming for you and the baby. I swear that to you, Vanessa Ashford, before I go into isolation. Okay?
—All right, Vanessa. I’ll make a note of it.
—And one more thing.
—Yes.
“Watch your back. Marcelo doesn’t forgive, and he never gets bored.”
Vanessa walked down the hallway toward the elevator with the two men.
Cavalier took Laura’s left hand.
“A sedan downstairs; Vargas at the mansion in twenty minutes.”
“Okay.”
“Laura.”
“Yes.”
“One thing before we go downstairs.”
—Go ahead.
—About the dispenser.
—What about the dispenser?
—You learned that in the ER.
“Yes, Cavalier, in the ER you learn things you don’t learn at board meetings.”
Cavalier gave him a brief smile.
—Okay.
“All right.”
At six in the afternoon, Cavalier, Manuel, and Derek shut themselves in the main study with the information from Vanessa, which she had confirmed in the sedan on the way back to the mansion.
Marcelo was set to land at Teterboro’s private airport on December 12—in fifteen days—on a plane registered to Aurelia Holdings, using a fake passport in the name of Alessandro Mendolari.
At nine o’clock that night, they came down with a plan in place.
That night, Laura lay down on the left side of the suite with Cavalier’s hand on her belly.
“Cavalier.”
“Yes.”
“One question.”
“Go ahead.”
“When they catch Marcelo, will you kill him?”
A five-second pause.
“No, Laura, I’ll hand him over to the judge. Let the system bury him. I’ll stay clean so I can raise your daughter.”
—You’ve been working on that answer.
—All afternoon, yes.
“Good.”
She turned off the lamp.
And at 11:30 p.m. on Friday, having turned two months pregnant that week, Laura closed her eyes, knowing that in fifteen days Marcelo would arrive in Manhattan, and that the peace of the mansion had been borrowed until further notice.