Chapter 8 - The First Betrayal
The old showroom had been closed for six years. Dust covered the display windows, and faded posters announced collections that no longer existed. Weston unlocked the basement door with Celia’s brass key while Naomi held the flashlight.
“You could have brought security,” she said.
“I did.”
“Where?”
“Luis is upstairs. He knows the building better than anyone.”
“That is not security.”
“It is better security than the people I inherited.”
The storage room contained metal cabinets, cracked sample books, and boxes labeled with years. Naomi found a cabinet marked 2007. The lock had been forced recently.
“Someone has been here,” she said.
Weston touched the splintered metal. “Or someone wanted us to think that.”
Inside, most folders were empty. One remained: a thin file with Daniel Calvert’s name on it. The first page was a resignation letter. The second was a payment schedule. The third was a handwritten note in Daniel’s careful script: Ask why the company pays twice for the same shipment.
Naomi felt her pulse in her throat.
Weston read over her shoulder. “There are duplicate invoices.”
“And your father signed them?”
“Some. But not all.”
The signatures changed halfway through the file. Daniel’s real signature slanted upward. The later ones were flatter, mechanical, and missing the small hook in the C.
Priya compared the copies with the archived invoices. “Forgery,” she said. “Someone copied his name.”
“Can you prove it?” Weston asked.
“A handwriting expert can. A good one.”
Footsteps sounded above them.
Weston shut off the flashlight. Naomi held her breath. A door opened, then closed. Someone walked across the showroom floor.
“We are not alone,” Weston whispered.
They waited until the footsteps faded. When they emerged, the basement door stood open. Luis was not at the top of the stairs. His phone lay on the floor, screen cracked.
“Where is he?” Naomi asked.
Weston called security. Ten minutes later, they found Luis in the rear alley, shaken but unharmed. He said a man in a maintenance uniform had asked him to inspect a leak. When Luis turned the corner, the man struck him and ran.
“Did you see his face?” Weston asked.
“No.”
“What did he say?”
Luis looked at Naomi. “He said the girl should stop digging.”
The threat changed everything. Weston ordered Naomi to stop working on the investigation.
“You are not my employer outside the workshop,” she said.
“I am trying to keep you safe.”
“By hiding information?”
“By preventing you from becoming a target.”
“I became a target when someone carved the table.”
“And I should have stopped it.”
“You cannot stop everything.”
“I can stop you from going into that basement again.”
Naomi stared at him. “You hear yourself, don’t you?”
“Yes.”
“You are using the same control you claim to hate.”
Weston’s voice lowered. “If something happens to you because I let you continue, I will never forgive myself.”
The fear in his expression was real. It softened Naomi, but it did not change her mind.
“You don’t get to make my decisions because you are afraid.”
“Then tell me what you need.”
“The truth.”
Before he could answer, Naomi’s phone buzzed. An email from the company’s legal department informed her that her employment trial was being reviewed due to “unapproved access to restricted materials.”
Marcus had moved first.
The next day, Naomi was called before a disciplinary panel. Marcus presented photographs of the basement, copies of the ledger, and a security report claiming she had entered without authorization. Weston was not present.
“Did you access confidential files?” the legal adviser asked.
“Yes, with a key given to me by Celia Ashford.”
“Without written authorization?”
“The key opened a room that belonged to the company.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the answer.”
Marcus folded his hands. “This is exactly the problem. Miss Calvert is talented, but she is impulsive. She has confused personal grievances with professional obligations.”
Naomi looked at him. “You are named in the files.”
“I am named in thousands of files.”
“Your company received payments from Cedar Vale.”
“My company?”
“The company you operated.”
“Careful,” he said again.
The panel suspended Naomi pending investigation. Her access badge stopped working before she reached the elevator.
Outside, rain began falling. She called Weston once. He did not answer. She called again. Still nothing.
When he finally returned the call, his voice was flat. “I was advised not to contact you.”
“By whom?”
“The board.”
“And you agreed?”
“I agreed to let the process continue.”
“You let them suspend me.”
“If I interfere, they can claim the investigation is compromised.”
“So you chose the company.”
“I chose evidence.”
“No, Weston. You chose silence.”
She ended the call before he could answer.
At home, Lena found Naomi sitting on the kitchen floor beside the flour tin.
“He hurt you,” Lena said.
“He did not have to touch me.”
Her mother sat beside her. “Your father made the same mistake.”
Naomi looked up. “What mistake?”
“He believed the truth would protect itself.”
May you like
Outside, the rain struck the windows. Inside, Naomi opened Daniel’s ledger again and noticed a faint impression on the last page, as if someone had written on the sheet above it.
She shaded the paper with a pencil. Three words appeared: Ask Ava first.
