Chapter 4 – THE GIRL IN THE PHOTOGRAPH

I walked over to where Claire was standing.

She was pointing at a photograph from our second anniversary party. It was a wide shot of the dining room, filled with employees and regulars.

“Look at her,” Claire said, tapping the glass.

In the background, sitting at a corner table, was a woman with dark hair. She was holding a little girl on her lap.

The little girl was wearing a silver bracelet with a tiny turquoise stone.

My grandmother’s bracelet.

My vision tunneled. The woman in the photo wasn’t just a customer. It was Elena, our first pastry chef. She had quit abruptly in 2001, moving back to Europe. Daniel had handled her severance.

Elena’s last name was Cross.

Natalie wasn’t just Daniel’s executive assistant. She wasn’t just his mistress.

She was his daughter.

A wave of nausea washed over me. I gripped the edge of the desk.

“Mom? You’re pale.”

“I’m fine, Claire.” I forced myself to breathe.

Daniel was romantically parading his own illegitimate daughter around Chicago as his mistress? No. That made no sense. Daniel was a narcissist, not a monster in that particular way.

Unless… the romance was a cover.

Unless the entire affair was a fabricated PR stunt to explain why he was transferring massive amounts of wealth and corporate power to a younger woman without raising the suspicion of the board or his wife. A midlife crisis affair was a cliché the board would ignore. A secret illegitimate child inheriting the empire would trigger an audit.

He was passing the company to her. Under my nose.

He had stolen my grandmother’s jewelry for her. He had stolen my mother’s money for her.

My phone buzzed.

It was an unknown number.

I answered it.

“Audrey.”

It was Natalie. She didn’t sound poised. She sounded frantic.

“Listen to me carefully,” she whispered. Background noise indicated she was outside, walking fast. “Daniel is looking for you. Do not go home.”

“Why are you calling me, Natalie? Or should I say, Elena’s daughter?”

Silence on the line. A sharp intake of breath.

“You found the photo,” Natalie said quietly. “Good. That saves us time.”

“You helped him steal my company.”

“I helped him secure his legacy,” she shot back. “But he lied to me, too. He told me you knew about me. He told me you agreed to the transition because you were tired of the business.”

“I didn’t know you existed until ten minutes ago.”

“I believe you now,” Natalie said. “Because he just locked me out of the corporate accounts. He’s not taking me to Zurich, Audrey. He’s taking everything. He used my name to hide the assets, and now he’s draining them.”

“Why should I believe you?”

“Because,” Natalie said, her voice shaking. “He took the time capsule box from the gala. He’s headed to the bank right now. Whatever is in the bottom of that box, he needs it to access the offshore accounts. You have to stop him.”

The line went dead.

I looked down at the yellow envelope I was still holding. The one Claire had given me.

FOR AUDREY.

Share