Chapter 82: Truths

Erik released the chair and crossed to the living room, looking toward the windows as if they offered an easier place to begin. Catherine returned her laptop to the table. Whatever he was about to tell her deserved her full attention.

“We met at Stanford,” he said. “Juliano and I were competitive from the beginning. Grades, internships, investment cases. Everything became something one of us had to win.”

“You told me that before.”

“Only the part that was easy to tell.”

They sat opposite each other.

“A friend of ours started a company a few years after graduation,” he continued. “He had developed a logistics system that attracted attention quickly. The company expanded into six states within four years.”

“What happened?”

“He expanded too quickly. New locations, more employees, equipment he couldn’t afford. Revenue increased, but the debt increased faster.”

“And he came to you.”

Erik nodded. “He needed an investor. He gave me access to everything. The public figures looked strong. The internal accounts didn’t. He was weeks away from missing several major payments, and some of his lenders didn’t know how bad the situation was.”

“Was he hiding it from them?”

“He kept believing the next contract would solve the problem. Every month, there was another contract that would supposedly change everything.”

Catherine had met business owners who moved numbers between spreadsheets until optimism looked convincing.

“You didn’t want to invest,” she said.

“I wanted to help him. I couldn’t find a way to do it without taking control of the company, closing locations and removing him as CEO.”

“Did you tell him that?”

“Eventually.”

“What did you do first?”

Erik leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees.

“I spoke to Juliano. We still talked occasionally then. He understood distressed companies better than I did, and I wanted his opinion before I rejected the investment. I thought I could describe the situation without identifying the company.”

“But he worked it out.”

“I gave him enough details to make that possible.”

“Did your friend give you permission to discuss his accounts?”

“No.”

The single word seemed to alter the room.

Erik guarded confidential information throughout Statham Capital. He had built his reputation on protecting the people who trusted him.

“You told Juliano anyway.”

“I wanted an objective assessment. If there was an option I had missed, Juliano would see it.”

“Did he?”

“He said the company couldn’t survive without immediate restructuring. He thought the debt could be acquired cheaply enough to force it.”

“And you refused.”

“I told him our friend would never agree.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

Erik met her gaze. “Yes. I refused.”

“What did Juliano do?”

“He had his team investigate. They reviewed public records, contacted suppliers and identified the lenders with the greatest exposure. Everything they used to make their offer was independently verified.”

“So he didn’t use the documents you had seen.”

“He used what I told him to find the opportunity.”

The distinction mattered legally. Personally, it changed very little.

“Moretti Capital bought the debt,” Erik continued. “By the time I realized how far he had gone, he controlled enough of it to dictate the terms.”

“You could have warned your friend.”

His eyes shifted away from hers.

“You didn’t,” Catherine said.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because I would have had to tell him how Juliano found out.”

Catherine sat back. Erik condemned Juliano for exploiting trust, yet had chosen silence to conceal his own mistake.

“How long did you wait?”

“Eleven days.”

“And what happened during those eleven days?”

“Juliano reached agreements with two more lenders.”

“Did you confront him?”

“Yes. He told me the company was already collapsing and that he was preserving what could still be saved.”

“Was he right?”

Erik’s expression hardened. “He removed our friend from his own company. Four locations closed within three months. Hundreds of people lost their jobs.”

“That doesn’t answer me.”

“He saved two divisions. They’re still operating.”

The admission appeared to cost him more than anything else he had said.

Catherine looked down at her hands. She understood now why Erik had kept the story from her. Juliano had acted ruthlessly, but he had not created the financial crisis. He had recognized it and used it. Erik had rejected the same opportunity while failing to protect the friend whose trust he had already broken.

“What happened to your friend?”

“He blamed Juliano for taking the company and me for giving him the opening. He was right about both.”

“Have you spoken to him since?”

“Not for years.”

“And this is why you hate Juliano?”

“This is when I stopped trusting him. There were other deals afterward. Companies he dismantled. Owners he forced out. Every time, he said the same thing. If he hadn’t done it, someone else would have.”

“Do you think that makes what he did acceptable?”

“No.”

“Neither do I.”

Erik looked at her.

“But you still haven’t been fair with me,” Catherine continued. “You made it sound as though Juliano destroyed a healthy company for his own benefit. The company was already failing.”

“He profited from it.”

“So did the people who kept their jobs in the divisions he saved.”

“You’re defending him.”

“I’m trying to understand what happened.”

“I told you what happened.”

“You told me your version after hiding it for months.”

His shoulders drew back. “Because I knew you would do this.”

“Do what?”

“Find a reason to understand him.”

Catherine stared at him. “Is that what you were afraid of?”

“I was afraid you would mistake understanding him for trusting him.”

“No, Erik. You were afraid I would see that you made a mistake too.”

He rose from the sofa and walked toward the windows. Catherine followed more slowly.

“You broke your friend’s confidence,” she said. “Then you let eleven days pass because warning him would have exposed you. Juliano may have taken advantage of the information, but your silence gave him time.”

“I have lived with that every day since it happened.”

“And somehow you decided that gave you the right to keep deciding what I was allowed to know.”

“I was trying to keep him away from you.”

“You cannot protect me with half a story.”

Erik turned. “What do you want me to say?”

“That you should have trusted me with the truth before Juliano became part of my work. Before you questioned my judgment. Before you accused me of missing something you deliberately hid.”

“I didn’t accuse you.”

“You told me I hadn’t recognized his intentions yet.”

His gaze dropped.

Catherine picked up her laptop again.

“I need some time.”

“Are you going to the study?”

“No. I’m going to Natalie’s.”

His head lifted. “Tonight?”

“If I stay, we’ll keep arguing until one of us says something we can’t take back.”

“Catherine, don’t leave because of him.”

She stopped beside the table.

“This isn’t because of Juliano.”

Her fingers tightened around the laptop.

“It’s because you didn’t trust me with the truth.”