THE DEVIL KNOWS HER NAME

CHAPTER: HAND WRITTEN NOTE

At Vale Enterprises Serena was with the CFO, talking about the reports.

Not a bad quarter, not "we missed the target". Heavens she'd have been grateful if that was the case.

It was kind of trouble that could destroy years of hard work in a matter of seconds.

Examining the report for the nth time, she was hoping if she stared hard enough the numbers might just get embarrassed and just change.

" Urgh, tell me I'm reading this wrong."

Across from her, Daniel adjusted his glasses in an overly dramatic way, like that'd help.

"I wish I could."

"How much time do we have?"

"At this rate, six weeks. Maybe seven if we push payables. Then we'd start missing... real obligations."

"Six weeks."

"We've been covering operating costs with short-term financing. Your father was going to restructure before..."

He stopped.

Before he died, God.

Serena snapped the laptop shut. Louder than she meant to.

"My father is dead, you don't have to mince your words."

"I'm sorry."

"So why am I finding out about this today, why did no one think to tell me, huh?"

"The board thought you needed time."

"Of course they did. Time for what exactly? To cry properly?"

"They meant well."

She walked over to the window and twenty floors down people were going about their day, she didn't even know how she was going to pay their salary.

She'd spent her entire life trying not to be a rich, snubby, heiress from the Vale family that everyone thought she was, she even went abroad for business school. Got a job in Manchester where her boss didn't even know how to pronounce her name correctly and made her reconcile receipts for hours, every day.

She was supposed to return next year, when she had gained experience, at her own pace, she never imagined she'd be returning like this.

"I want everything," she said still facing the glass. "Every outstanding loan. Every major contract. Every transaction over five million for the last three years. On my desk. Today."

Daniel hesitated.

"What now?"

"Some of those were handled by your father. Personally."

"And?"

"And some files may take time."

"How much time?"

"I can't say."

"Then you should have started yesterday, Daniel."

Someone knocked on the door, Maya didn't wait for a come in.

"Mr. Cross is here."

Serena didn't turn around, "Which Mr. Cross?"

Maya gave her a look. You know which one.

Of course.

"Why is he here?"

"He says the chairman invited him."

"My father is dead."

"I mentioned that."

"And?"

"He said he knows."

Maya lowered her voice,"he's in your father's office."

"Get me the board minutes. And tell reception next time to introduce him to the concept of appointment."

"Should I tell him you're coming?"

"No. Let him wait."

---

He was standing by her father's desk when she walked in.

He was in a dark suit, perfect white shirt, no tie, top button undone, with that perfect hair of his, Just the like she remembered.

"Serena."

"Mr. Cross."

"Condolences. Your father meant a lot to a lot of people."

The words were right. His face gave away exactly nothing.

"Thanks, now what brings you here?"

He glanced at her father's chair.

"Your father and I had unfinished business."

"You should have finished it before he died, then."

"That was the plan."

Something about the way he said it so flat, so matter of fact made her want to throw something.

Thud, she dropped the financial report on the desk between them.

"If you came to offer your condolences, you've done that. If it's business, book through Maya like everyone else."

"You're the business now."

"I'm not CEO. Not officially at least."

"Not officially," he repeated.

"Did you come here to congratulate me on a promotion I haven't gotten, or you're trying to get on my nerves?"

His mouth twitched, Almost into a smile.

"I remember why I found you interesting, Serena."

"How unfortunate for both of us."

---

Three years ago, she attended a business forum at The Shard in her father's place. Adrian was on stage, talking about "streamlining" a manufacturing firm he'd bought, which was fancy for he planned on selling some of the subsidiaries of the company and letting the workers off.

"You call it streamlining, there are families whose livelihood depends on the company."

He'd looked straight at her and said, calm as anything, "Do you know how much debt that company was in, Ms. Vale? Would you prefer three hundred job losses or twelve hundred?"

She didn't want to admit it but he was right.

They hadn't spoken since.

---

"What do you want?" she said.

He reached into his briefcase, pulled out a thin folder. Slid it across. She didn't touch it.

"Your father's company has a liquidity problem. I can fix it."

She didn't touch it still.

"And what do you want in return?"

"Access to certain financial records, a seat at the restructuring table, and your help with something."

"What something exactly?"

He pointed to the folder,"open it."

Inside were bank statements, wire confirmations, a name she'd never seen, meridian something, buried under three shells.

One payment,eighteen million dollars, outgoing, nine days before her father died.

Her fingers went cold.

"Do you know who owns this?" she asked, keeping her voice even.

"No, that's why I'm here."

"And you came to me because?"

"Because it came from Vale international, and your finance department wasn't of any help."

She looked up, "What did they tell you?"

"That your father authorized it personally and the supporting docs are incomplete."

"Convenient."

"Very."

She studied him. The arrogance was there, same as ever.

"Why do you care?"

"Because the same company got eleven million from Cross Holdings four years ago."

The air left her for half a second.

Two companies. Two big payments. One ghost company in the middle.

Both signed off by their fathers.

It landed harder than she expected.

For a second his mask slipped. Just a second. But she saw it.

"I won't hand over my company's records because you walked in and demanded them," she said.

"I didn't ask you to."

"Then you're remarkably good at wasting your own time."

"I came prepared to negotiate."

She almost laughed. Of course he did.

"Naturally."

"I'll provide emergency financing without taking control. You keep authority, subject to financial safeguards, independent forensic accountant examines the transactions, both companies see the findings."

"And if I refuse?"

"Then I'll find another way to investigate the payment and you'll find another way to keep your company afloat."

At least he wasn't pretending they had options.

She thought about her employees below, she wasn't going to let their jobs become a chess piece in this twisted game.

But she wasn't handing over her company to Adrian either.

"I want my legal team to review everything, no hidden ownership, no auto-acquisition clause, no hiring or firing without my approval."

"Reasonable."

"I'm not done, I choose the forensic accountant jointly with my lawyers, I get copies of every single document and nobody releases findings without verifying."

He watched her.

"Agreed, Subject to final contract."

"Then send the proposal to my lawyer."

"I will."

He picked up his briefcase, left the folder.

At the door he stopped.

"One more thing, Serena."

She looked.

"Don't assume your father was the only one keeping secrets."

Her hand tightened on the desk.

"Is that a warning?"

"No," he said, holding her gaze, "It's something you should look into, Carefully."

Then he was gone.

Serena stood there staring at the closed door.

She'd expected Adrian Cross to be arrogant and calculating and infuriating.

Ring ring, her phone rang.

Mum.

"Serena, darling, have you left the office?"

"Not yet. What's wrong?"

A pause.

Then Catherine, very quietly: "Did Adrian Cross come to see you?"

Serena straightened. "He just left, why?"

A slow breath came from the other end.

"Listen to me. Whatever he tells you about your father, don't make any decisions until you've spoken to me."

"Why?"

"Because your father had a reason for keeping his dealings with the Cross family private."

Serena stared at the folder.

"What reason?"

"I can't explain over the phone."

"Then come to the office."

"I will, but Serena promise me."

"What?"

"Don't trust Adrian."

Click, the call ended.

She lowered the phone.

She opened the folder again.

Last page. A photocopy of a handwritten note, recovered by Cross Holdings.She recognised the handwriting instantly.

If either of our children discovers what we agreed to, everything we built could fall apart.

Under it, two were signatures.