Chapter 247
Chapter 247:
“And why would your manager tell you this?”
Stefan’s eyes dropped to the table. “Because he knows what I did to Camille. Everyone does now. He thought…” His voice faltered. “He thought I might want to make things right.”
Alexander studied the man before him, looking for signs of deception. “You could have called the police with this information.”
“And tell them what? That my ex-fiancée might be talking to a Russian businessman with shady connections? I have no proof. Nothing they could act on.” Stefan met Alexander’s gaze directly. “But I know Rose, I know how she thinks. When the bombings didn’t work, she’d escalate. Make it personal.”
“Why come to me? Why not go to Camille directly?”
Pain flashed across Stefan’s face. “You think she’d believe anything I said? After what I did?” He shook his head. “No. But she trusts you.”
Alexander remained silent, processing. The information aligned with the security team’s assessment. Rose had disappeared after the bombings. Herod Preston hadn’t been seen either.
“What do you want, Rodriguez?”
“To help.” Stefan straightened in his chair. “I have connections of my own. People who owe me favors. I can get information you can’t access through regular channels.”
“Out of the goodness of your heart?” Alexander’s tone dripped with skepticism. Stefan flinched. “I know you won’t believe this, but I care what happens to Camille. I always did, even when…” He trailed off. “I made terrible choices. I can’t undo them. But I can try to protect her now.”
“You had your chance to protect her. You chose Rose instead.”
“Yes.” The simple admission hung in the air between them. “I did. I was blind, selfish, easily manipulated. I’ve lost everything because of those choices. My company. My reputation. My soul…” His voice broke on the last word. “I’m not asking for forgiveness. I’m asking for a chance to do one decent thing.”
“One million dollars from an offshore account linked to Rose, the day before she met with Bessonov.”
Lㆀ$† Ç♄₳þŧëяŞ Iη ĠałnøνεlŞ.cøm
“She’s buying something. Or someone.” Camille’s fingers tightened on the edge of her desk. “What did Stefan want in return for this information?”
“Nothing.”
Camille laughed, a sharp, harsh sound with no humor. “Stefan always wants something.”
“He wants to help. To make amends, in whatever small way he can.” Alexander watched her carefully. “I told him everything goes through me. He won’t contact you directly.”
“You believe him?”
Alexander considered the question. “I believe he regrets what he did to you. Whether that makes him trustworthy is another question.”
Camille rose from her chair, walking to the window that overlooked the city. The afternoon sun glinted off distant buildings, a stark contrast to the darkness of their conversation.
.
.
.