Chapter 4 - TREVOR’S LAPTOP PROVED HE HAD PLANNED TO MARRY CAMILLE, STEAL FROM DANTE, AND ABANDON BOTH WOMEN
Camille did not go alone.
She did not go at all.
That disappointed Trevor.
Good.
Instead, she forwarded the email to Chicago police, her attorney, and Dante.
In that order.
Dante called ninety seconds later.
“Do not meet him.”
Camille stared at the phone.
“You realize commands are not becoming more attractive with repetition.”
Silence.
Then:
“Would you please not meet the man who helped imprison my pregnant sister?”
“Better.”
“Are you meeting him?”
“No.”
Dante exhaled.
Camille almost smiled.
Then:
“The photograph.”
She said.
“Yes.”
“You knew Trevor six months ago.”
“I met Trevor six months ago.”
“Difference?”
“He attended three meetings with Marco.”
“Why did you say you started investigating him twelve days ago?”
“Because that is when I began suspecting him.”
“That was technically accurate and intentionally incomplete.”
Dante paused.
“Yes.”
Camille’s anger returned.
“You have a terrible habit.”
“I have several.”
“At least you’re self-aware.”
He almost laughed.
Then:
“Meet me tomorrow.”
“No.”
“Not alone.”
“Not secretly.”
“Police evidence unit.”
“Why?”
“Trevor’s laptop has been imaged.”
“They found something involving you.”
Camille’s stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Better you see it with your attorney.”
The next morning, Camille sat beside lawyer Michelle Grant while a financial-crimes detective displayed recovered files.
Dante sat across the room.
Not beside her.
She appreciated that.
The laptop contained an entire folder labeled:
HH PROJECT
Hunt-Hale.
Inside:
Corporate registration.
Forged digital signature.
Financial projections.
Draft explanations for auditors.
Trevor had anticipated questions.
Business purpose: strategic risk consulting to transportation and private equity clients.
Camille stared.
He had stolen the language from her company website.
Another document outlined ownership:
Camille 50%.
Trevor 50%.
Except Trevor retained sole banking authority.
Convenient.
Then the detective opened a spreadsheet.
Transfers into Hunt-Hale totaled $2.4 million.
Not yet the full missing $6.8 million.
The rest had gone through other entities.
Outgoing transfers moved money toward accounts in the Cayman Islands, Luxembourg, and one domestic real-estate company controlled indirectly by Marco Bellini.
Dante’s face looked carved from stone.
Then Michelle pointed toward a column.
“What’s ‘phase two’?”
The detective opened another document.
Camille’s blood went cold.
PHASE TWO — POST MARRIAGE
Step one:
Update Hunt-Hale records to marital business.
Step two:
Deposit wedding gifts and joint funds to company account to create legitimate domestic activity.
Step three:
Trevor to add Camille as authorized financial officer retroactively.
Step four:
Prepare statement that all consulting engagements reviewed by Camille in professional capacity.
Step five:
Relocate.
“Relocate where?”
Camille asked.
The detective opened an itinerary.
Lisbon.
Two tickets.
Trevor Hale.
Sofia Bellini.
Camille stopped breathing.
So he really had planned to leave with Sofia.
Then another itinerary.
Purchased three days later.
Trevor Hale only.
Different destination.
Panama City.
Camille laughed.
Sofia had been lied to too.
Everyone disposable.
Then Michelle opened a draft email.
Addressed to Camille.
Never sent.
Camille, I know you’ll be angry, but things got more complicated than I expected. I need space. There are financial issues I never wanted you involved in. Please don’t let Bellini pressure you into making statements until I contact you.
Prepared before the wedding.
He had already written his disappearance.
Camille felt nothing for several seconds.
That frightened her more than grief.
Michelle reached for her hand.
Camille shook her head.
Not yet.
The detective continued.
There was a folder of personal documents.
Camille’s passport scan.
Social Security number.
Signature samples.
Professional credentials.
A photograph of her company ID.
Trevor had built a toolkit out of intimacy.
Then came Sofia.
Medical appointment schedule.
Passport copy.
Messages.
Trevor had saved everything.
Dante’s face changed when he saw his sister’s ultrasound appointment confirmation.
The detective opened a text exchange between Trevor and Marco.
Marco:
Once you’re married, Hunt gives us credibility.
Trevor:
Camille won’t touch Bellini money knowingly.
Marco:
She doesn’t need to know.
Trevor:
What about Sofia?
Marco:
Your problem.
Trevor:
She’s pregnant.
Long pause in timestamps.
Marco:
Then she’s leverage if Dante gets difficult.
Dante stood.
The detective immediately said:
“Sit down.”
Dante stared at him.
The room changed temperature.
Then Camille spoke.
“Dante.”
He looked at her.
“Sit.”
For one strange second, nobody moved.
Then Dante Bellini sat.
Camille almost laughed at the detective’s expression.
Dante looked toward the screen again.
“My cousin called my sister leverage.”
“Yes.”
Camille said.
“He did.”
The calm way she said it helped more than outrage.
Then another message.
Trevor:
Wedding goes forward Saturday. After transfer we move. Dante will be busy with Sofia if necessary.
Marco:
And Camille?
Trevor:
She’ll think I ran because of the affair.
Camille stared.
That was exactly what she had thought.
Trevor had arranged even her interpretation of abandonment.
He knew her.
Knew she would find betrayal more believable than financial conspiracy.
He had planned to let shame keep her quiet.
The detective closed the laptop.
“Mr. Bellini.”
Dante looked up.
“We need Marco located.”
“He disappeared last night.”
“Do you know where?”
“No.”
“Could he access weapons?”
Dante’s expression almost became insulting.
The detective sighed.
“Right.”
Chicago.
Bellini.
Stupid question.
Then Camille’s phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
Everyone looked.
The detective held out one hand.
“Don’t answer.”
A voicemail arrived.
He played it through evidence equipment.
Trevor’s voice.
“Camille.”
Her body tightened.
“You always were too smart when you were angry.”
A breath.
“I know you’re with Bellini now.”
Dante’s face hardened.
“I didn’t want any of this to happen to you.”
Camille almost laughed.
Classic.
“Marco is dangerous.”
“He’s going to blame me.”
“Dante will blame me.”
“Sofia already does.”
“If you want the truth, there’s one thing you need to understand.”
Pause.
“Dante knew Marco was dirty before I ever met Sofia.”
Camille looked at Dante.
His face gave nothing.
Trevor continued.
“He kept Marco close because family politics mattered more than stopping him.”
“And now he’ll tell you he’s different from everyone else.”
Another breath.
“You don’t know men like him.”
“You never did.”
Voicemail ended.
Camille waited.
Then looked at Dante.
“Is any of that true?”
Everyone in the room became uncomfortable.
Good.
Let them.
Dante answered slowly.
“I knew Marco had questionable side deals.”
“How questionable?”
“Kickbacks.”
“Undisclosed fees.”
“Nothing at this scale.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“And you kept him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dante’s jaw tightened.
“Because removing him would have split the family businesses.”
Trevor had told one truth inside many lies.
That mattered.
Camille stood.
Dante said:
“Camille.”
She turned.
“I am not Trevor.”
“No.”
She answered.
“You don’t lie the same way.”
That hurt him.
Good.
“Trevor invents reality.”
“You omit whichever part might make someone say no.”
Silence.
Camille continued.
“He used my trust.”
“You used uncertainty.”
“Different degree.”
“Same instinct.”
Dante looked down.
For a man feared across Chicago, shame looked surprisingly ordinary.
“You’re right.”
No defense.
That changed something.
Not enough.
Something.
Then a detective entered.
“We found Marco’s SUV.”
Everyone turned.
“Where?”
“South Side warehouse district.”
Dante’s expression hardened.
“Which block?”
The detective gave the address.
Dante stood immediately.
“No.”
Camille said.
He looked at her.
“That property belongs to Bellini Freight.”
“Old cold-storage building.”
“Closed three years ago.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I closed it.”
Then the detective received another message.
His face changed.
“Sofia’s hospital detail just reported an attempted breach.”
Dante went white.
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
“Man used a forged Bellini security credential.”
“Security stopped him.”
“Who?”
“Not Marco.”
A photograph appeared.
Camille recognized the face.
Not personally.
From Trevor’s wedding guest list.
His college roommate.
Best man.
Ryan Mercer.
Camille whispered:
“He was supposed to stand beside Trevor yesterday.”
The detective looked at her.
“You know him?”
“Yes.”
“He told me Friday Trevor had never been happier.”
Dante’s voice became quiet.
“Another person inside the plan.”
Then Camille remembered something.
Ryan had handed her Trevor’s garment bag Friday afternoon.
The coat.
The ultrasound.
She looked at the detective.
“Ryan brought Trevor’s coat to my mother’s house.”
Everyone froze.
“What time?”
“About three.”
“Trevor arrived later.”
“Ryan said Trevor forgot it at the hotel.”
The ultrasound may not have accidentally remained in Trevor’s pocket.
Ryan had delivered the coat.
May you like
Which meant somebody may have wanted Camille to find it.
And suddenly the discovery that canceled the wedding no longer looked like luck.
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