Chapter 9 - VICTORIA'S REAL CONFESSION
Victoria spent six hours insisting she knew nothing.
Then she learned Graham had dumped her at Sylvester’s gate like garbage.
Fear accomplished what detectives couldn't.
She started talking.
Detective Ramos conducted the interview.
Sylvester watched through glass.
So did I.
Lucas was upstairs with two officers and a pediatric counselor Ramos trusted.
I hated leaving him.
But I needed answers.
Victoria sat beneath harsh lights wearing borrowed sweatpants and a plain gray sweatshirt.
Without makeup and arrogance, she looked younger.
More human.
I didn't forgive her.
But I finally understood she wasn't the architect.
She was bait.
“How much did they pay you?” Ramos asked.
Victoria stared at the table.
“Two hundred thousand.”
I nearly laughed.
All this.
For two hundred thousand dollars.
“What were you told to do?”
“Humiliate Claire.”
“How?”
“Make a scene.”
“Why?”
“They said Claire had obtained access to the gala through Sylvester.”
“She had.”
“I wasn't supposed to know that.”
Ramos leaned forward.
“Explain.”
Victoria swallowed.
“They said Claire was trying to attach herself to the Vale family.”
“Who said?”
“A consultant.”
“Name.”
“Marcus.”
“Last name?”
“I don't know.”
Ramos stared.
“You took two hundred thousand dollars from a man whose last name you didn't know?”
“He had contracts.”
“Fake ones?”
“I don't know.”
“Continue.”
Victoria wiped her eyes.
“They told me to confront Claire at 8:15.”
“Exactly?”
“Yes.”
“Why did you do it early?”
Victoria looked ashamed.
“I saw Lucas touch the dessert table.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“He knocked a spoon.”
“I know.”
“You hit him.”
“I know.”
Ramos’s voice hardened.
“Why?”
Victoria’s lip trembled.
“I was angry.”
“At a six-year-old?”
“No.”
“Then at whom?”
Victoria looked through the glass.
Straight at me.
“Claire.”
I stepped closer.
She could not see me clearly.
At least I hoped not.
Ramos waited.
Victoria continued.
“I've hated her for years.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathaniel chose her.”
I froze.
Ramos sat back.
“Were you romantically involved with Nathaniel Cross?”
“No.”
“Wanted to be?”
Victoria laughed bitterly.
“Everyone wanted Nathaniel.”
“That isn't an answer.”
Victoria's eyes filled.
“Our families expected us to marry.”
My breath stopped.
Nathaniel had never told me.
“When?”
“Before Claire.”
“Formal engagement?”
“No.”
“Arrangement?”
“Yes.”
“My father and Eleanor Cross had discussed it for years.”
“And Nathaniel?”
“Refused.”
“Because of Claire?”
“At first, no.”
“He refused before meeting her.”
That should have made me feel better.
It didn't.
“After he met Claire?”
“He laughed when my father brought it up.”
Victoria’s voice cracked.
“He said he'd already found his family.”
I closed my eyes.
Nathaniel.
God.
Ramos continued.
“So your anger toward Claire made you easier to recruit.”
Victoria nodded.
“They knew everything.”
“What?”
“My debts.”
“Affairs.”
“Tax issues.”
“Everything.”
“They said if I followed instructions, problems disappeared.”
“And if you refused?”
“They'd expose me.”
Ramos looked at her notes.
“What exactly were your instructions for 8:15?”
“Spill wine on Claire.”
“Start an argument.”
“Get security involved.”
“Then what?”
“Keep her near the west ballroom doors.”
“Where was Lucas supposed to be?”
Victoria hesitated.
“Near the children's lounge.”
My heart slammed.
“They expected me to let him go there.”
Ramos’s expression hardened.
“Did you know someone planned to take him?”
“No.”
“You told us earlier you didn't know they were going to take him.”
Victoria looked down.
“I suspected.”
My hands clenched.
“Sylvester,” I whispered.
He didn't stop me as I opened the door.
Ramos turned.
“Claire.”
I walked inside.
Victoria went pale.
“You suspected?”
“Claire.”
“You suspected somebody wanted my son alone.”
“I didn't know.”
“You suspected.”
“I thought they wanted to photograph him.”
“For what?”
“To make you look negligent.”
I stared at her.
“Leaving my son alone at a gala?”
“Yes.”
“So they could use it in court.”
Her face answered before words did.
Custody.
I stepped back.
“They were building a case.”
Victoria nodded.
“They asked questions.”
“What questions?”
“About your parenting.”
“Your job.”
“Your income.”
“Your relationships.”
“Whether you drank.”
“Whether you used medication.”
I laughed in disbelief.
“They were recreating the old case.”
“What old case?” Ramos asked.
I answered without looking away from Victoria.
“The one Eleanor filed after Nathaniel died.”
Ramos wrote something down.
Victoria whispered.
“They said this time it would work.”
My entire body went cold.
“This time?”
She realized her mistake.
I leaned across the table.
“What happened last time?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
“No.”
“Victoria.”
“I wasn't involved.”
“Then why say this time?”
She began crying again.
“Because Marcus said they had made mistakes before.”
“What mistakes?”
“He said they trusted lawyers instead of pressure.”
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know.”
“Stop saying that.”
“I don't.”
Ramos intervened.
“Claire.”
I stepped away.
Ramos turned back to Victoria.
“Who arranged the money?”
“A company.”
“Name.”
“Harbor Advisory.”
Sylvester, behind me, took out his phone.
Victoria continued.
“They deposited fifty thousand upfront.”
“Where?”
“Cayman account.”
“Why do you have a Cayman account?”
She looked embarrassed.
“Don't ask.”
Ramos almost smiled.
“I will absolutely ask later.”
Then Victoria said something that erased every trace of humor.
“They also gave me a file on Claire.”
I stared.
“What file?”
“Psychological profile.”
My mouth went dry.
“What?”
“Medical history.”
“Employment.”
“Financial records.”
“Friends.”
“Lucas’s school.”
My ears rang.
“Where is it?”
“My apartment.”
Ramos immediately radioed officers.
Victoria continued.
“There was a section about triggers.”
I felt sick.
“What triggers?”
“Nathaniel.”
“Custody.”
“Public humiliation.”
“Lucas being threatened.”
I understood.
The gala wasn't random cruelty.
It was engineered.
They wanted me to react.
Hit Victoria.
Scream.
Lose control.
Do something cameras could capture.
Instead, Sylvester had reacted.
Which destroyed their plan.
“They wanted a video,” I whispered.
Victoria nodded.
“Of me appearing unstable.”
“Yes.”
“And when that failed?”
“I don't know.”
Ramos asked, “Who gave you the photograph of Lucas?”
“Marcus.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Why?”
“To identify him.”
“And the instruction?”
“Bring him tonight.”
Victoria shook her head.
“I thought it meant make sure he came.”
I believed half of that.
Maybe.
Ramos slid a photo of Graham across the table.
“This man?”
Victoria looked.
Her face changed.
“Yes.”
I leaned forward.
“You've met him?”
“No.”
“You recognized him.”
“He was in the file.”
Ramos sharpened.
“What did it say?”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“Primary client.”
No one moved.
Graham had commissioned the operation.
We finally had a direct line.
Then Victoria whispered.
“There was another name.”
“What name?”
“I only saw initials.”
“What initials?”
She looked toward me.
“E.C.”
Eleanor Cross.
My stomach twisted.
Ramos asked, “Anything else?”
Victoria hesitated.
“Yes.”
“What?”
“The file said Claire was not to be physically harmed.”
That surprised me.
“What about Lucas?”
Victoria began trembling.
Ramos repeated.
“What about the boy?”
“I never saw instructions about harming him.”
“What did you see?”
“One line.”
She looked at me.
“Lucas must remain viable.”
I felt ice spread through my veins.
Viable.
Not safe.
Not protected.
Viable.
Like an asset.
Like a legal instrument.
Before anyone could speak, Sylvester’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
Then looked at me.
“What?”
I asked.
His face had gone hard.
“The FBI team reached the Baltimore warehouse.”
“And?”
“Locker 418 was empty.”
My heart dropped.
“Graham got there first?”
“No.”
Sylvester swallowed.
“The access log shows it was opened three years ago.”
“By who?”
He stared at me.
“Nathaniel.”
May you like
“When?”
“Eight hours before he died.”
