Chapter 72
“Why do you need your phone?” Cedrick asked.
“I told you. I’m calling the police.” She unlocked it.
“Didn’t we already call the fire department? They’ll investigate the cause. As for why you were in that conference room–why the door was locked–you still haven’t explained.”
Lucille met his gaze coldly. “I’d like to know that too. Why I was there. Why it was locked. Once the police report comes out, we’ll all have answers.
Maricela rushed in, flustered. “Lucille, think twice! The company’s making big moves right now. A police scandal could ruin our reputation. The conference room incident was an accident.”
“Oh? How do you know that?” Lucille scoffed. “Did you lock the door?”
Maricela paled. “Of course not! I already checked. Lucy took you to the conference room. She squeezed your juice. She claims she doesn’t know about the lock–says she didn’t touch
it.”
“Mango juice?”
Lucille looked into Maricela’s panicked eyes and had a pretty good idea. “I never mentioned mango juice. How did you know it was mango juice?”
Maricela grew even more flustered. “No, I… As Cedrick’s executive assistant, I looked into things beforehand. Lucy filled me in on everything–from picking you up downstairs to having you wait in the conference room.”
“Is that so?”
Lucille’s gaze
shifted to Cedrick. “Very few people know about my mango allergy. Even my parents don’t know.”
Only you knew, Cedrick.
Lucille stared at Cedrick’s suddenly rigid face with eerie calm. “Cedrick, Lucy swore to me she gave me passionfruit lemonade. Why did it become mango juice? Did Lucy tamper with
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it deliberately, or did someone switch the drinks? And Cedrick–who exactly did you tell about my mango allergy?”
Maricela paled.
Lucille cut her off before she could speak. “Whoever locked that door–your company has surveillance. Checking the footage will tell us everything. Unless, of course, the cameras ‘malfunctioned‘ or the recordings were deleted. Then we’ll need the police. So yes, I’m filing a report.”
As both Maricela and Cedrick tried to interject, Lucille spoke over them. “Someone tried to murder me! I have to call the police! Anyone stopping me is the culprit!”
Maricela’s face turned ghostly white.
“Cedrick! Your wife nearly burned to death in that conference room. Are you shielding the killer by not reporting this?” She glared at him.
“No, Lucille-” Cedrick shut his eyes briefly. “Are you accusing Maricela ?”
Lucille’s expression hardened. “I accuse no one. I want the truth. And no one will stop me from calling the police!”
“Cedrick, I didn’t–why would I hurt Lucille?” Maricela’s voice trembled, tears welling.
Cedrick gripped Lucille’s shoulders. “Maricela would never—”
“Then why fear the police?” Lucille interrupted. “If she’s innocent, an investigation clears her
name.”
“Lucille-”
“Stop.” Her voice turned icy. “Any decent person would prioritize life over messy entanglements. Protect her if you choose, but calling the police is about my survival. It has nothing to do with who you are to me–or who she is to you. If saving someone years ago leads to my death now? That’s not just unforgivable–it defies divine justice.”
She ignored their stammering protests, unlocking her phone decisively. The truth required authorities.
“Lucille…” Maricela sobbed suddenly. “Cedrick… please… don’t call them…”
The raw plea stunned Cedrick. His face darkened. “Maricela … was it you?”
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Maricela rushed forward, clutching his arm. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean–it was just a joke!”
“A joke?” Lucille’s laugh was razor–sharp. “Your crowd loves ‘jokes,‘ doesn’t it? Twenty- something years alive, and I never knew your jokes could be life–threatening!”
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