Vows of Vengeance

Chapter 8 - The Things He Does Not Say

Vera woke before her alarm.

For several seconds, she lay perfectly still, staring at the ceiling.

Then she remembered dinner.

Damian.

The conversation.

The way he had looked at her when she laughed.

She turned onto her side and closed her eyes.

This was exactly what she had promised herself would not happen.

She had not come back to Chicago to understand Damian Voss.

She had come back to destroy him.

Five years ago, she had buried a name.

Five years ago, she had buried a life.

And now she was standing inside the empire responsible for both.

She could not afford to forget that.

Her phone vibrated.

Vera reached for it.

Damian: Come to my office at eight.

No greeting.

No explanation.

Of course.

She stared at the message before typing.

Vera: Good morning to you too.

The reply came almost immediately.

Damian: You are late.

She glanced at the clock.

7:42.

She frowned.

Vera: It is 7:42.

Three dots appeared.

Then disappeared.

Then appeared again.

Damian: Exactly.

Vera rolled her eyes.

For the first time that morning, she smiled.

And that annoyed her even more.

At 7:58, she stepped into Damian's office.

He was already there.

His tie was perfectly straight. His jacket hung over the back of his chair, and several files were spread across his desk.

He looked as though he had been awake for hours.

"You came."

"You summoned me."

"I asked."

"You ordered."

His eyes lifted.

"Is there a difference?"

"Apparently not to you."

Something almost amused flickered across his face.

Then it disappeared.

"Close the door."

Vera did.

Damian pushed a file across the desk.

"Look at page twelve."

She opened it.

Her eyes moved over the figures.

Then stopped.

"This is different."

"Yes."

She looked up.

"From the file you showed me yesterday."

"Correct."

"Where did you get this?"

"I had someone retrieve the archived copy."

She turned another page.

The numbers were different.

Not dramatically.

Just enough.

The acquisition value had been altered, along with the date of one of the authorization approvals.

"Someone changed this too."

"Looks that way."

Vera looked at him carefully.

"You said yesterday that the altered documents were connected to someone in your family."

"I said the credentials belonged to a senior member of my family."

"Which means you still do not know who."

"I do not."

She studied his expression.

He was not lying.

At least, she did not think he was.

"Why show me?"

"Because you notice things other people overlook."

The compliment unsettled her more than it should have.

"That is your reason?"

"It is one of them."

She closed the file.

"What are the others?"

Damian leaned back in his chair.

"You're not afraid to tell me when I am wrong."

"Perhaps I am not afraid of you."

"That is what worries me."

Their eyes met.

Neither spoke.

The silence stretched.

Then Damian's phone rang.

He glanced at the screen.

His expression changed.

Not dramatically.

But Vera noticed.

He answered.

"Yes."

A pause.

"How long?"

Another pause.

"Do not move anything."

He ended the call.

"What happened?" Vera asked.

"One of the archived Rossi files is missing."

Her stomach tightened.

"Missing?"

"From a secure records facility."

"Someone stole it?"

"I do not know."

"You do not sound surprised."

Damian stood.

"I am not."

The records facility was beneath one of Voss Group's older buildings downtown.

Vera had not known it existed.

Neither, apparently, did most employees.

The security officer met them at the entrance.

"Mr. Voss."

Damian nodded.

"Show me."

They walked through a series of secured doors until they reached a narrow corridor lined with metal cabinets.

The officer stopped beside one.

"The file was here."

Damian looked at the empty space.

"What exactly is missing?"

"Box 17."

"Contents?"

"Rossi acquisition records. Original correspondence. Internal evaluations."

Vera's pulse quickened.

"Correspondence with whom?"

The officer glanced at Damian.

"Various parties."

Damian's expression hardened.

"Answer her."

"Several legal representatives. Banks. Private consultants."

Vera stepped closer.

"Was there anything from Rossi Holdings?"

"Yes."

Her fingers curled around the edge of her sleeve.

"How much?"

"Most of the correspondence."

Damian looked at her.

"Why?"

She met his eyes.

"Because if someone removed the correspondence, they were not trying to hide the numbers."

"What were they hiding?"

"I do not know."

"But you are thinking."

She hesitated.

"The original deal."

Damian's gaze sharpened.

"What about it?"

"Maybe the acquisition was not really about buying the Rossi assets."

He went still.

"Then what was it about?"

"Something that happened before the acquisition."

The security officer shifted uncomfortably.

Damian noticed.

"You can leave."

The man left.

Silence settled over the corridor.

Damian looked at Vera.

"Explain."

She walked toward the cabinets.

"Five years ago, Rossi Holdings collapsed."

"I know."

"Most people think it was financial."

"It was."

"Maybe."

Damian's eyes narrowed.

She continued.

"But companies do not usually collapse overnight without someone benefiting."

He stared at her.

"What are you suggesting?"

"I am suggesting we stop asking who lost money."

She turned toward him.

"And start asking who made money."

Something shifted in Damian's expression.

He understood.

They spent the next three hours going through old financial records.

Vera forgot the time.

Forgot the office.

Forgot that she was supposed to maintain a careful distance from the man sitting across from her.

Damian was not what she had expected.

He was ruthless with numbers.

Patient with details.

And when he found something suspicious, he did not immediately accuse anyone.

He verified.

Twice.

Sometimes three times.

It was infuriating.

Because every hour she spent beside him made the image she had carried for five years more complicated.

At noon, Damian dropped a folder onto the table.

"Look."

Vera opened it.

A series of transfers.

Her eyes widened.

"These came before the acquisition."

"Yes."

"Where did they go?"

"Three shell companies."

"Who owned them?"

"That is what I am trying to find out."

She looked at the dates.

One of them made her breath catch.

Damian noticed.

"What?"

She pointed.

"This date."

"What about it?"

"This was two days before my father's company lost its final major investor."

Damian stared at the page.

"Your father?"

Vera froze.

She had said too much.

His eyes lifted slowly.

"You said your father's company."

She swallowed.

"I meant Rossi Holdings."

"You have referred to the company as Rossi Holdings before."

"Have I?"

"Yes."

His gaze remained fixed on her.

"Interesting."

Her pulse hammered.

She needed to redirect him.

"You are the one who brought me into this investigation."

"That is not an answer."

"No."

"Then give me one."

Vera closed the folder.

"I worked with financial records before I came here. I know the Rossi case better than most people."

"How?"

"I researched it."

"Why?"

There it was.

The question she had been dreading.

Why?

Because my father died.

Because my mother stopped speaking about him.

Because my entire life changed.

Because I watched my family's name become something people whispered about.

Because I came back to find out who destroyed us.

Instead, she said:

"Because I do not like unanswered questions."

Damian watched her for a long moment.

Then he nodded.

"Neither do I."

He took the folder from her.

The tension between them eased.

But not completely.

That evening, Vera returned to her apartment and found an envelope beneath her door.

No name.

No address.

Just her initials.

She stared at it.

Her heart began beating faster.

She picked it up.

It was heavier than it should have been.

She opened it carefully.

Inside was a single photograph.

An old photograph.

Vera's fingers went cold.

It showed her father standing outside Rossi Holdings.

Beside him was Richard Voss.

And standing a few feet behind them was another man.

She did not recognize him.

But she recognized the building behind them.

She had seen that same photograph once before.

Five years ago.

In the box her mother had hidden beneath the floorboards.

The photograph she had thought she had destroyed.

Her breathing quickened.

She turned it over.

There were four handwritten words on the back.

Ask Damian about him.

Vera stared at the message.

Who was the man?

Why had someone sent her this?

And, more importantly—

How did they know she was working with Damian?

Across town, Damian stood alone in his father's old office.

He had returned there after Vera left.

The photograph of Richard sat on the desk.

He picked it up.

His thumb brushed the edge of the frame.

Richard had always told him that the truth had a way of surviving people.

Damian had never believed him.

Not until now.

His phone rang.

"Yes?"

A familiar voice answered.

"Sir, we have found something."

Damian straightened.

"What?"

"The missing Rossi correspondence."

His grip tightened around the phone.

"Where?"

"Not where we expected."

"Tell me."

A pause.

"The documents were never removed from the records facility."

Damian's expression hardened.

"Then where are they?"

"We believe someone moved them into another archive under a different case number."

"Whose case?"

Another pause.

"Your father's."

Damian went completely still.

"Richard Voss."

He looked at the photograph on his desk.

For the first time in years, something about his father's death did not feel like an old wound.

It felt like a door.

And someone had just opened it.