Chapter 12 - RAPHAEL HAD TO CHOOSE BETWEEN ME AND HIS EMPIRE
Raphael had two choices.
Hide the records.
Or surrender them.
Nobody said it that simply.
Lawyers rarely do.
His attorneys arrived within twelve hours.
Three countries became involved.
Investigators wanted access.
Veseri executives started resigning before noon.
Stock markets reacted.
News outlets discovered enough fragments to begin running headlines.
Raphael’s attorney, Daniel Marchetti, pulled him into a private room.
I was not invited.
Good.
It wasn't my decision.
I sat beside Elena instead.
She drank tea with both hands.
“You love him.”
I nearly choked.
“I barely know him.”
“That wasn't my sentence.”
I stared at her.
She smiled faintly.
“You have exactly the face he gets when he lies.”
“What face?”
“The offended one.”
“I am actually offended.”
“See?”
I looked away.
“I don't love him.”
“Fine.”
Silence.
Then:
“He loves you.”
I laughed.
Elena didn't.
My laughter stopped.
“He doesn't know me.”
“He changed a fifteen-year security protocol because you told him armed men made civilians nervous.”
I blinked.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
I remembered fewer guards near the treatment area.
I assumed authorities ordered it.
Elena sipped tea.
“Raphael never changes rules quickly.”
“Maybe he’s learning.”
“Exactly.”
Before I could answer, shouting came from the next room.
Daniel Marchetti stormed out.
“This is insanity.”
Raphael followed.
“What?”
Raphael looked at me.
“I’m turning everything over.”
Daniel threw his hands up.
“Everything includes records unrelated to this trafficking case.”
Raphael nodded.
“Elena says the network grew because we kept separating ‘acceptable’ crimes from unacceptable ones.”
Daniel stared at him.
“So you plan to burn the company?”
“If necessary.”
“Thousands of legitimate employees—”
“Will keep their jobs if the company survives without criminal money.”
“And if it doesn't?”
Raphael looked toward the rescued children.
“Then it shouldn't.”
I had never been prouder of a man I was still not sure I trusted.
That was inconvenient.
Daniel walked away muttering in Italian.
Raphael approached me.
“You approve.”
“That isn't relevant.”
“It is to me.”
“That might be a problem.”
“Probably.”
We stood close.
Too close.
The room had gone strangely quiet around us.
Then Raphael said:
“I will probably lose control of the company.”
“I know.”
“I may face charges connected to operations I signed.”
“I know.”
“I may spend years proving what I did and didn't know.”
“I know.”
He looked at me.
“You should walk away.”
I almost laughed.
“Now you want me to leave?”
“Yes.”
“You're terrible at timing.”
His eyes softened.
“You have a career.”
“Currently under review.”
“You have a life.”
“So do you.”
“Mine is complicated.”
“You think?”
He almost smiled.
Then became serious.
“Tessa, men have already tried to kill you because of me.”
“No.”
His expression tightened.
“They tried to kill me because I found what they were doing.”
“You found it because of me.”
“I found empty medical boxes.”
He stared.
I stepped closer.
“You are not the center of every disaster.”
“That is strangely comforting.”
“Good.”
His hand lifted.
Stopped beside my face.
He waited.
For permission.
That mattered more than I expected.
I moved the last inch.
His fingers touched my cheek.
Gentle.
Careful.
Nothing like the man everyone feared.
Then the door opened.
Mercer.
He stopped.
“Oh.”
I stepped back.
Raphael did not.
Mercer looked delighted.
“This is the best day of my deployment.”
“Cole.”
“I saw nothing.”
“You're smiling.”
“I smile professionally.”
Raphael looked at him.
“What happened?”
Mercer’s smile vanished.
“Luca made a statement.”
We followed him.
Luca had negotiated access to counsel.
But before counsel arrived, he said one thing voluntarily.
The collapsed depot had been deliberate.
Not the earthquake.
The timing.
Raphael had been sent inside to inspect supposedly damaged freight.
A security team loyal to Luca withdrew seconds before the aftershock.
Raphael was left behind.
Then Luca said something else.
Someone had warned him that I would remain in the building.
I stopped breathing.
“How?”
Mercer looked at me.
“Your personnel file.”
“What about it?”
“Someone accessed your mission evaluations.”
My stomach dropped.
Raphael’s face hardened.
Mercer continued.
“They knew you had previously refused evacuation during a mass casualty incident until your last patient was removed.”
I remembered.
Afghanistan.
Years earlier.
Different war.
Same stubbornness.
They had profiled me.
Not personally.
Behaviorally.
“If I found Raphael…”
“You were likely to stay,” Mercer said.
“So I was part of the contingency.”
Raphael looked sick.
“They expected you to die with me.”
“Yes.”
Then Mercer handed me another document.
Access log.
The person who opened my military file did not work for Veseri.
He worked for an American private security contractor attached to our relief mission.
A contractor reporting directly to Dr. Pike’s administrative office.
The investigation was not over.
May you like
It had moved closer.
Again.
