Chapter 13 - THE WOMAN HE PLANNED TO BLAME
The forged divorce agreement contained a paragraph I read four times.
Wife acknowledges personal relationship with employee Gavin Ross contributed substantially to marital breakdown.
I almost laughed.
Lucas intended to accuse me of sleeping with Gavin.
Of course.
That explained the seventy-five-thousand-dollar line too.
Not a payoff.
A setup.
Elena saw it immediately.
“He wanted a payment trail.”
“To make Gavin look like my lover?”
“Or someone you financially favored.”
“Did he pay Gavin?”
“No.”
“But he planned to.”
“Yes.”
Maybe the hundred-thousand-dollar job offer had been bait.
If Gavin accepted anything, Lucas could reshape it later.
The entire scheme depended on narratives.
Camilla didn’t own the restaurant alone.
Camilla approved the vendors.
Camilla wanted to sell.
Camilla cheated.
Camilla agreed to settle.
Facts were optional as long as paperwork arrived first.
That afternoon, I met Lucas face-to-face for the first time since filing for divorce.
Lawyers present.
Neutral conference room.
No restaurant.
No family.
He looked tired.
The arrogance was cracked now.
“Can we stop?”
He asked it before sitting.
“Stop what?”
“This.”
“You mean the investigation?”
“The destruction.”
I stared at him.
“You forged my signature on a divorce agreement.”
He looked at Elena.
“That was a draft.”
“A draft with my signature.”
“Peter handled documents.”
“So now it’s Peter.”
He leaned forward.
“Camilla, I messed up.”
That phrase was too small.
“An affair is messing up.”
He flinched.
“Gambling can be an addiction.”
Another flinch.
“Stealing nearly a million dollars, forging my dead mother’s signature, creating fake vendors, sabotaging inspections, pledging my inheritance, stealing my grandmother’s knives, and attempting to sell my restaurant is a system.”
He looked down.
For the first time, Lucas had no comeback.
Then he whispered:
“I was going to fix it.”
“How?”
“After Coastal opened.”
“With my money.”
“It would have made money.”
“You still don’t understand.”
“What?”
“This was never about whether your plan succeeded.”
He looked up.
“It was about whether you had the right to make it.”
Silence.
That was the end of our marriage.
Not legally.
But completely.
Lucas offered cooperation.
Full financial disclosure.
Return of assets.
Transfer of his interest in Lumina Coastal.
Testimony against Marcus and Peter if necessary.
In exchange, he wanted me not to pursue certain civil claims.
I did not answer.
Elena did.
“We’ll review.”
Then Lucas asked to speak privately.
“No.”
His face tightened.
“Camilla.”
“No more conversations without witnesses.”
He nodded slowly.
That boundary hurt him more than yelling would have.
As we stood to leave, he said:
“Sophia didn’t start the sabotage.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“The health complaint.”
“I know she sent it.”
“She sent it because someone paid her.”
“Who?”
Lucas closed his eyes.
“My mother.”
Beatrice.
Again.
But he kept talking.
“She thought if Lumina lost value, you’d finally let me take control.”
I wanted to disbelieve it.
Then Lucas said:
“But she didn’t come up with it.”
“Who did?”
He looked at me.
“Your mother.”
I stared.
“My mother is dead.”
“I know.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Beatrice found letters.”
“What letters?”
“From your mother to your grandmother.”
My pulse slowed.
“Where?”
“Your family trust files.”
Lucas leaned back.
“Your mother wanted you to sell Lumina.”
“That’s impossible.”
“She wrote that the restaurant would ruin your life.”
I stood completely still.
My mother had supported my culinary career.
Or I believed she had.
May you like
Lucas’s final sentence followed me out of the room.
“Your family thought this restaurant was a mistake before mine ever tried to steal it.”
