“Don’t Trust Veronica”
Rebecca kept staring at Veronica after the call ended.
Only a few seconds passed.
But they felt endless.
Veronica noticed immediately.
And that hurt more than the phone call itself.
“What did they say?” she repeated carefully.
Rebecca hesitated.
Jamie looked between them nervously.
Daniel stayed silent.
Outside, camera flashes exploded against the lobby windows like lightning.
Rebecca finally spoke.
“They said…” she swallowed hard, “…that if I want Charlotte alive, I should stop trusting you.”
Silence.
Absolute silence.
Veronica’s face hardened instantly.
“That’s exactly what they want.”
Rebecca frowned.
“What?”
“To isolate you.”
Veronica stepped closer calmly.
“Rebecca, listen to me very carefully. Whoever is behind this knows you’re getting closer. They’re trying to break trust between everyone around you.”
Rebecca wanted to believe her immediately.
She really did.
But something terrible had already happened inside her mind:
doubt.
Small.
Ugly.
Growing.
Daniel spoke carefully.
“There’s one thing we know for certain.”
Everyone looked at him.
“The person leaking information has access to legal archives.”
Veronica crossed her arms.
“And that could include dozens of people over the last decade.”
“But your department controlled most of the permissions,” Daniel replied quietly.
The tension between them became instant.
Sharp.
Rebecca rubbed her forehead.
“Enough.”
Nobody spoke.
Rebecca looked exhausted now.
Emotionally exhausted.
“Right now we focus on Charlotte,” she whispered.
Veronica softened slightly.
“Agreed.”
But the damage was already done.
Because Rebecca no longer looked at her the exact same way.
And Veronica knew it.
—
Three floors below, reporters crowded outside the building entrance.
Phones raised.
Cameras flashing.
Questions screaming through the glass.
The news had spread too fast.
Too strategically.
Rebecca watched the chaos silently from above.
Then suddenly—
her assistant burst into the conference room.
Panicked.
“Ms. Miller…”
Rebecca turned immediately.
“What now?”
The assistant looked pale.
“The board members are demanding an emergency meeting.”
Daniel cursed quietly under his breath.
Of course they were.
Scandal scared investors faster than truth ever could.
Rebecca straightened slowly.
“No,” she said.
Everyone looked at her.
“No more hiding.”
For the first time in hours…
something colder entered her expression.
Something stronger.
“Prepare the conference hall,” she ordered.
Veronica frowned.
“Rebecca, with the media outside—”
“Good.”
That surprised everyone.
Rebecca grabbed the remote control and unmuted the television again.
Every channel still discussed Charlotte.
Missing heiress.
Altered records.
Family conspiracy.
Good.
Let them talk.
Rebecca slowly looked toward the windows.
“They spent years controlling the story,” she whispered. “Now they can lose control publicly.”
“The Emergency Board Meeting”
The conference hall looked like a battlefield.
Executives whispering nervously.
Phones vibrating nonstop.
Assistants rushing between tables.
And at the center of it all—
Rebecca.
Calm.
Cold.
Beautifully furious.
The moment she entered, conversations stopped.
Board Chairman Elliot Greene stood immediately.
“Rebecca,” he began carefully, “we need answers.”
She walked directly to the front of the room.
“You’ll get them.”
That confidence unsettled everyone more than panic would have.
The giant television screens behind her still displayed news coverage of the scandal.
Charlotte’s blurred photograph appeared again.
Rebecca forced herself not to react emotionally.
Weakness would destroy her here.
One board member leaned forward nervously.
“Are the accusations true?”
Rebecca looked directly at him.
“Which accusations?”
“That your family hid another heir.”
Murmurs spread instantly.
Rebecca clasped her hands together slowly.
“My family,” she said carefully, “has hidden many things from me. I’m discovering that in real time alongside all of you.”
That honesty shocked the room.
Another executive spoke up.
“What about the fraud investigation involving Mauro Miller?”
Rebecca’s expression became ice.
“Mauro Miller no longer represents this company in any capacity.”
“Was company infrastructure used to conceal personal records?”
That question hit harder.
Because it was dangerous.
Rebecca noticed Veronica tense slightly nearby.
Before she could answer—
the conference room doors opened.
Everyone turned instantly.
Patricia walked inside.
And she looked destroyed.
Hair messy.
Makeup ruined.
Hands shaking.
But her eyes?
Pure rage.
“Rebecca,” she snapped, ignoring the room full of executives, “you need to stop this immediately.”
The entire board stared in shock.
Rebecca looked almost amused.
“You broke into my board meeting?”
Patricia marched closer.
“You have no idea what you’re doing.”
Rebecca stood slowly.
“No,” she whispered. “I think for the first time in my life, I finally do.”
Patricia lowered her voice suddenly.
Panic leaked through it now.
“You’re waking up people that should’ve stayed buried.”
The room went completely silent.
Rebecca narrowed her eyes.
“What people?”
Patricia realized too late what she had just implied.
Veronica noticed instantly.
“So there ARE others involved.”
Patricia stepped backward.
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yes,” Rebecca whispered coldly. “You did.”
“The Journalist”
By midnight, Rebecca’s scandal had become national news.
Not business news.
Not celebrity gossip.
National obsession.
Talk shows discussed Charlotte’s disappearance.
Legal analysts debated altered birth records.
Social media exploded with theories.
And one name appeared everywhere now:
Rebecca Miller.
Rebecca sat alone in her penthouse office watching the city lights below.
For the first time all day…
silence.
Then a knock interrupted it.
“Come in.”
A man entered slowly.
Tall.
Dark-haired.
Calm.
Maybe late thirties.
Rebecca immediately recognized him.
Elias Mercer.
Investigative journalist.
Dangerous reputation.
Pulitzer winner.
Known for destroying political careers.
“What are you doing here?” Rebecca asked carefully.
Elias closed the door behind him.
“Trying to help you before someone gets killed.”
Rebecca’s stomach tightened instantly.
“That’s a dramatic introduction.”
“I wish it were dramatic.”
He placed a thick folder on her desk.
Rebecca frowned.
“What is this?”
“Everything I could recover about Charlotte Herrera.”
Rebecca’s pulse quickened.
“You’ve investigated this before?”
Elias looked grim.
“Three years ago.”
Rebecca froze.
“Why?”
“Because someone paid to make the story disappear.”
Silence.
Rebecca slowly opened the folder.
Inside:
hospital maps,
court references,
financial transfers,
photographs.
And one picture made her blood turn cold.
Martin Keller.
Standing beside Patricia.
Twenty years younger.
Speaking to a man whose face had been blacked out intentionally.
Rebecca whispered:
“Who is that?”
Elias looked directly at her.
“That,” he said quietly, “is the man your mother feared most.”
