Chapter 175

Renata hesitated. "Me? What can I do?"

"You have shares, don't you? Sell them. Use the money to cover Santino's losses."

Renata froze, her eyes widening.

Her shares were her security, her standing within the Lambert family. If she sold them, she would have nothing.

Clifford leaned back, casually toying with a coffee spoon, his gaze fixed on her. "You're hesitating? Then perhaps he's not as important to you as you thought."

"But my shares aren't worth that much," Renata argued weakly.

"Cover what you can. We can figure out the rest later. Don't you think?"

Renata bit her lip, her face a mask of turmoil. On one side was her stake in the Lambert Group; on the other, the husband she loved. She was torn.

"I need to think about it." She couldn't make a decision this big on the spot.

"Fine. But you don't have much time. If you wait too long, Santino might just disappear. Then you'll never find him."

The thought sent a jolt of fear through her, tilting the scales.

"But who would I sell them to?" she asked, her voice trembling. "Who has that much cash on hand?"

"If you decide to do it," Clifford said calmly, "I can help you."

Renata looked into his eyes, trying to read his intentions, but they were like deep, dark pools, impossible to fathom. Still, he was her brother. She had never had a reason to doubt him.

After a long moment, she clenched her jaw and took a deep breath. "I'll give you my answer tomorrow."

Clifford's lips curved into a satisfied smile.

Renata couldn't sit still any longer. She gathered the files from the table. As she was leaving, Clifford added one last warning, "Don't tell anyone about this. Noteven Santino. If Dad finds out, you know the consequences."

Renata's body went rigid. Her grip on the files tightened, and she walked out without another word.

...

Clifford didn't arrive at the office until after four in the afternoon. Selah came in almost immediately. "Mr. Lambert."

He rifled through some papers on his desk. "Where are the files on those investment companies?"

"Oh, I had someone organize them.

I'll have her bring them over." Selah picked up the desk phone and dialed an internal line. "Latisha, the files gave you this morning? Once they're compiled, just print them out and bring them here. Don't email them. Mr. Lambert needs them now."

At the mention of Latisha's name, Clifford paused.

Selah hung up and smiled at him. “I was just coming to tell you, Latisha came back to work today. I saw she didn't have much to do, so I assigned her a simple task. It wouldn't look good for her to be sitting around idle."

Clifford's expression was unreadable. “That's a departmental matter. You don't need to report it to me."

"Understood. I won't in the future." Selah watched him continue to search his desk. "Are you looking for something else, Mr. Lambert?"

"A box."

"A red one?"

"Yes."

Selah thought for a moment. “I think I saw it. It should be here."

She walked around the desk, knelt, and opened the bottom, unlocked drawer Important documents were kept in the locked cabinets, but this one was accessible. She shuffled through its contents and produced a small, red box. “Is this it?"

"Yes."

Clifford took it. He didn't open it, just slipped it into his jacket pocket.