Chapter 7 - THE GALA WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING
By noon, the story had spread through Pittsburgh.
News outlets reported that the Thompson Group's billion-dollar acquisition announcement had been challenged by Hartford Technologies. Financial commentators questioned the company's credibility. Investors demanded explanations.
Camila responded with a carefully written statement.
She described the gala incident as a family misunderstanding and accused me of using my father's wealth to intimidate her.
Then she did something even more aggressive.
She filed a public complaint alleging that I had concealed assets during my marriage and manipulated Oliver into signing business documents.
I expected it.
What I didn't expect was the press conference.
At 2:00 p.m., Camila appeared outside the Thompson Group headquarters.
She wore a black suit, diamond earrings, and the expression of a woman preparing to bury someone.
“I'm a mother,” she told reporters. “Everything I've done has been to protect my son.”
A journalist asked whether she regretted presenting divorce papers to me at the anniversary gala.
Camila smiled sadly.
“I regret that a private family matter became public. But I will never apologize for protecting my family from someone who deceived us.”
Then she produced a photograph of Oliver and me together.
It was taken during our honeymoon.
“He believed he was marrying an ordinary young woman,” she continued. “Instead, he discovered that his wife had hidden an enormous fortune and powerful family connections.”
Her words were designed to make me look like the dishonest one.
For several minutes, I watched the broadcast without speaking.
Then Daniel entered my office.
“She has another move planned.”
“What?”
“She's requested an emergency shareholder meeting at the Thompson Group.”
“Why?”
“She claims Oliver is mentally unfit to manage his position and wants to remove him from the board.”
I frowned.
“Why would she do that?”
“Because Oliver has access to the financial records.”
I understood.
Camila wasn't trying to protect her son.
She was trying to silence him.
I called Oliver.
He answered immediately.
“She knows what you told us,” I said.
“I know.”
“Are you safe?”
“I'm at the office.”
“Get out.”
“I can't. I have to retrieve something.”
“What?”
“The original transfer agreement your mother mentioned.”
I stood.
“Where is it?”
“Her private office. Behind the framed photograph of my grandfather.”
“Oliver, don't go in there alone.”
“I have to. If I leave without it, she'll destroy it.”
“Wait for security.”
But the line went dead.
I called Daniel.
Within minutes, we were on our way to the Thompson Group headquarters.
When we arrived, Oliver's car was parked outside.
The lobby security guard looked nervous.
“Mrs. Thompson asked everyone to leave the executive floor.”
“Where is my husband?”
The guard hesitated.
“Mr. Thompson went upstairs.”
Daniel immediately called building security.
We took the elevator.
The doors opened onto the executive floor.
The corridor was empty.
Then we heard shouting.
Oliver's voice came from behind Camila's office door.
“You knew about the accident!”
I stopped.
My father's face appeared in my mind.
The photograph of my mother.
The mysterious Richard Vale.
The warning in her journal.
Then Camila spoke.
“You have no idea what you're talking about.”
“You were there!”
“Keep your voice down.”
“You told me she was dead before anyone found her car!”
Silence.
Then a loud crash.
Daniel pushed open the door.
Oliver was standing beside the desk, holding a thick leather folder.
Camila stood opposite him, her face twisted with fury.
But the moment she saw me, she smiled.
“Elizabeth,” she said quietly. “You should have stayed out of this.”
I looked at the folder in Oliver's hand.
“What did you find?”
He turned toward me.
His eyes were filled with fear.
“Your mother's original transfer agreement.”
Then he opened the folder.
The first page contained a signature.
Not my father's.
Not Camila's.
My mother's.
May you like
And beneath it was the name of the person who had received control of her private foundation.
Elizabeth Hartford.
