Chapter 13 - The Man Who Raised Her
Camille spent six minutes staring at Bernard’s payment history.
Morel spent five seconds.
“Don’t believe it yet.”
Camille looked at him.
“Four million euros.”
“Numbers are not context.”
“They’re transfers.”
“Yes.”
“To Bernard.”
“Yes.”
“For eleven years.”
“Yes.”
“Stop defending him.”
Morel’s voice stayed calm.
“I’m defending evidence.”
That irritated her because he was right.
Julian examined transaction metadata.
“Payments came from multiple Vesper entities.”
“Purpose?”
“Consulting.
Legal services.
Risk management.”
Camille laughed bitterly.
“So they even labeled the betrayal.”
Julian kept working.
Then paused.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“The accounts receiving the money aren’t Bernard’s personal accounts.”
Camille moved beside him.
“Who owns them?”
“Shell companies.”
“Beneficiary?”
He traced deeper.
The final recipients were unusual.
Investigative journalists.
Private investigators.
Families of deceased witnesses.
Whistleblower protection funds.
Camille stared.
Morel nodded.
“He was taking their money.”
“And using it against them.”
“Yes.”
Julian found something else.
Bernard had invoiced Vesper for legitimate legal consulting through intermediaries.
Then redirected nearly every euro into investigations of Vesper.
Camille sat back.
“He infiltrated them.”
The same way Morel had.
The same way her father had.
Everyone in her father’s circle had been living double lives.
The thought exhausted her.
Victoire looked at the files.
“Can we prove it?”
Julian smiled.
“Every transfer.”
Camille looked at Bernard’s hostage photograph again.
Voss had probably discovered Bernard’s betrayal.
That explained the kidnapping.
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
Henri Voss.
“You opened the Geneva vault.”
Not a question.
Camille looked at the tracker logs.
“How do you know?”
“I know many things.”
“Not enough.”
A pause.
“I have Bernard.”
“I have your transaction history.”
Another pause.
Small.
But real.
“You misunderstand what you found.”
“No.
I understand exactly.”
Voss’s voice hardened.
“Midnight.”
“Different terms.”
“You do not have terms.”
“I have the registry.”
“You have one component.”
“I have enough to send prosecutors to your offices.”
“And if you do, Bernard dies.”
Camille closed her eyes.
There it was.
The oldest form of leverage.
Not money.
Not law.
Love.
Voss continued.
“Bring the Geneva module to E-17.”
“You told me Geneva.”
“Plans change.”
Camille looked at Morel.
He was already signaling for Julian to trace.
“Bernard for the module.”
“Yes.”
“How do I know he’s alive?”
A video call replaced the audio.
Bernard appeared.
He was tied to a chair.
Blood at his temple.
But conscious.
He looked at Camille.
His first words were not a plea.
“Do not bring it.”
Voss struck him.
Camille’s face went cold.
Bernard continued.
“Camille, listen to me.”
Another blow.
“Your father died because he believed the registry mattered more than his life.”
He looked directly into the camera.
“He was wrong.”
Camille felt tears rise.
Bernard smiled weakly.
“People matter more than evidence.”
Voss ended the video.
Camille stood motionless.
Morel watched her.
“What will you do?”
“Bring the module.”
Victoire stepped forward.
“Camille.”
“I’m not sacrificing Bernard.”
Morel nodded.
“Then we make sure Voss doesn’t get what he thinks he’s getting.”
Julian began copying the module.
“It has tamper protection.”
“Can you clone it?”
“Not perfectly.”
“How imperfect?”
“If Voss verifies cryptographic signatures, he’ll know.”
“How long?”
“Maybe five minutes.”
Morel smiled.
“Five minutes is a lot.”
Camille looked at the live Vesper files.
“We don’t need five.”
She had noticed something earlier.
A remote synchronization protocol.
The Geneva module did not merely contain records.
It authenticated with other components.
If connected to Vesper’s system, it could potentially expose that system.
Julian understood before she finished.
“You want to let him connect it.”
“Yes.”
“That could give us their network.”
“Exactly.”
Morel looked worried.
“And if they isolate it?”
“Then we lose the opportunity.”
Camille stared at the screen.
“We need Voss to believe he has won.”
Victoire crossed her arms.
“He likes winning.”
Camille looked at her.
“You noticed.”
“He spent two years flattering people around my family.
Men like that don’t just want power.
They want people to know they have it.”
That insight mattered.
Voss would not immediately destroy Camille.
He would explain.
Boast.
Prove superiority.
Time.
At 11:48 p.m., Camille entered Warehouse E-17 alone.
She carried the Geneva module.
Voss waited underground.
Amelia stood beside him.
Bernard sat near the far wall.
Alive.
Voss smiled.
“You came.”
Camille held up the module.
“Release him.”
“After verification.”
He took the device.
Connected it to a terminal.
Julian’s remote monitor came alive three kilometers away.
Morel whispered through Camille’s hidden earpiece.
“Connection established.”
Voss entered credentials.
Julian said.
“Inside.”
Camille looked at Bernard.
He looked exhausted.
But his eyes moved slightly toward Amelia.
Warning.
Camille followed the glance.
Amelia held a gun.
May you like
Not pointed at Camille.
Pointed at Voss.
