Chapter 11 - THE MORNING AFTER|
Sunday morning arrived with a pale, cold sun reflecting off the ice-crusted streets.
Beatrice sat at her small kitchen table wearing an oversized sweater, a mug of black coffee steaming between her hands. The emerald silk dress hung on the door frame, looking out of place in her modest apartment.
Her phone vibrated against the wood.
She picked it up, expecting a frantic text from Tommy or an official corporate email from Carmichael Logistics.
Instead, it was a bank notification.
Wire Transfer Received: $100,000.00
Sender: Costello Private Trust
Memo: Salary Review — Consulting Fees.
Beatrice stared at the screen, her heart hammering against her ribs. She tapped her screen and dialed Arthur’s private line.
He answered on the second ring.
“Beatrice.” His deep voice was completely clear, calm, and professional.
“What is this, Arthur?” she demanded, standing up from the table. “We agreed on sixty thousand for Tommy’s debt. I don't take bribes, and I don't take charity.”
“It isn't charity,” Arthur replied smoothly over the line. “It’s your fifty percent cut of the six million dollars Marco tried to steal. You found the account; you get the recovery fee.”
“Arthur—”
“And,” he interrupted quietly, “it’s your retainer for the upcoming week. I need you in the main office at eight a.m. tomorrow.”
May you like
Beatrice paused, leaning against the counter. “For what?”
“Don Hector Castiglione just called an emergency meeting of the five families,” Arthur said, his tone turning dead serious. “He wants a full audit of the shipping routes. And he specifically requested the accountant who wore emerald silk.”
