Chapter 10 - The Price of Victoire
The ransom location arrived at midnight.
An abandoned winery outside Reims.
Camille was ordered to come alone.
She did not.
Morel entered first through the vineyard.
Julian stayed three kilometers away monitoring signals.
Étienne remained in Paris because Camille refused to risk both Delacroix family members.
Camille carried the E-17 notebook inside a black case.
She did not have Bernard’s key.
That was the advantage.
Or the problem.
The winery doors opened automatically.
Amelia waited beneath hanging industrial lamps.
Victoire sat in a chair.
Alive.
Furious.
Not broken.
Camille almost smiled at that.
Amelia wore a dark suit.
No weapon visible.
“You came.”
“You kidnapped the wrong woman.”
Victoire called out.
“I told her that.”
Amelia slapped the chair beside her.
“Quiet.”
Camille’s expression hardened.
“Touch her again and you lose the notebook.”
Amelia smiled.
“You sound protective for someone she pushed into a pool.”
“She made a stupid decision.”
Victoire looked at Camille.
Amelia laughed.
“That’s generous.”
“No.
It’s accurate.”
Camille placed the case on a table.
“Release her.”
“Key first.”
“You already have it.”
Amelia’s smile faded.
“What?”
“The bracelet.”
She looked toward Victoire’s wrist.
Empty.
Amelia stepped closer.
“We opened the bracelet.”
“And?”
“Nothing.”
Camille realized Bernard was smarter than all of them.
The bracelet was not the key.
It was another clue.
“What did you find?”
Amelia’s eyes narrowed.
“A number.”
“What number?”
“You don’t know?”
Camille said nothing.
Amelia laughed.
“Bernard really did keep you ignorant.”
“Where is he?”
“You should ask Henri.”
“So Voss has Bernard?”
Amelia’s silence answered.
Camille felt fear but hid it.
“What number?”
Amelia removed a tiny strip of paper.
271104.
Camille stared.
A date.
27 November 2004.
She knew it.
Her mother’s birthday.
No.
Not exactly.
Her mother was born in March.
November 27, 2004 was something else.
Camille searched her memory.
Then it struck her.
The day she first met Victoire.
They had been children.
A charity horse show.
Camille was fourteen.
Victoire was nine.
Their mothers had been friends.
Camille stared at her.
Victoire realized it too.
“Our mothers.”
Amelia looked between them.
“What?”
Camille understood Bernard’s clue.
The person Vesper underestimated most was not Victoire because of her personality.
It was Victoire because of her mother.
Élise Delacroix had died ten years earlier.
Camille remembered her only vaguely.
But Élise had been close to Camille’s mother.
“What did our mothers share?” Camille asked.
Victoire looked confused.
“I don’t know.”
Amelia became impatient.
“Enough.”
A door opened behind her.
Henri Voss entered.
Two armed men followed.
He was elegant.
Calm.
Nothing about him suggested violence.
That made him more dangerous.
“Ms. Laurent.”
“Mr. Voss.”
“I hoped we would meet under better circumstances.”
“You shot at me in a church.”
“One of my contractors exceeded instructions.”
“Convenient.”
Voss glanced at the case.
“The notebook.”
Camille pushed it forward.
“Victoire first.”
Voss nodded.
One guard cut her restraints.
Victoire stood.
She started toward Camille.
Amelia stopped her.
“Not yet.”
Voss opened the case.
The notebook was inside.
He turned several pages.
His satisfaction was obvious.
“Your father caused extraordinary problems.”
“You murdered him.”
“I did not personally order his death.”
“Who did?”
Voss smiled.
“You still think there was one person.”
Camille’s skin went cold.
“Organizations do not require villains, Ms. Laurent.
They require incentives.”
He closed the notebook.
“Your father threatened too many powerful people.”
“And Bernard?”
“Alive.”
“For now?”
“For as long as he remains useful.”
Camille studied Voss.
He wanted the registry desperately.
That meant he did not have enough to reconstruct it.
“The Swiss component isn’t complete.”
His expression barely changed.
But she saw it.
“You stole the wrong version.”
Voss smiled.
“Very good.”
Camille continued.
“Bernard fed Amelia a decoy.”
Amelia turned toward him.
Voss’s face hardened.
That told Camille she was right.
Amelia looked furious.
“You said the Swiss file worked.”
“It partially worked.”
“You told me—”
“Enough.”
For the first time, tension appeared between them.
Camille filed it away.
Amelia was not a partner.
She was expendable.
Camille looked at her.
“You betrayed my family for a man who never trusted you.”
Amelia’s eyes flashed.
“You know nothing.”
“I know he gave you a fake target.”
Voss said coldly.
“Do not listen to her.”
Camille continued.
“You spent seven years inside my life.”
Amelia stepped closer.
“Because your father destroyed mine.”
Camille stopped.
“What?”
Amelia’s anger was real.
“My father worked for Laurent Maritime.”
Camille searched her memory.
“Thomas Grant.”
Amelia’s face changed.
“You remember.”
“He was finance director.”
“He went to prison.”
“For fraud.”
“For obeying your father.”
Camille stared.
Amelia believed this.
Whether true or not, it had shaped everything.
“He killed himself eighteen months later.”
Camille’s voice softened.
“I didn’t know.”
“No.
You inherited the company.
The money.
The name.
And everyone protected you from knowing what that name cost other people.”
Voss watched with interest.
Camille realized he had recruited Amelia through resentment.
Not greed.
At least not initially.
“You think Voss told you the truth?”
Amelia’s expression hardened.
“He gave me evidence.”
“He gave you what he needed you to believe.”
That landed.
Voss stepped forward.
“Enough.”
Then gunfire sounded outside.
Morel.
Lights went out.
Victoire dropped instantly.
Camille moved toward her.
Voss’s guards shouted.
A window shattered.
Morel entered through the darkness.
Camille grabbed Victoire.
“Run.”
They reached a side corridor.
Behind them, Amelia screamed.
Not in fear.
In anger.
Camille turned once.
She saw Voss abandoning Amelia.
Leaving through another door with the notebook.
Amelia stared after him.
May you like
For the first time, she understood exactly what Camille had meant.
Voss had never intended to take her with him.
