Chapter 12 - WAREHOUSE 17
Warehouse 17 stood near the river in Newark.
Abandoned.
Not Moretti property.
Not Vale’s.
Originally leased by Kevin’s first sales employer.
Federal agents went first.
Paige did not.
Gabriel did not.
Progress all around.
Inside they found Kevin.
Alive.
Sitting beside three file boxes.
He had voluntarily left protection because he remembered something Vale told him years earlier.
If everything collapses, originals stay at Seventeen.
Kevin feared Vale’s attorneys might find and destroy them before investigators did.
Stupid.
Useful.
Still stupid.
The boxes contained old contracts.
Handwritten ledgers.
Corporate seals.
Original Northstar formation documents.
And something important:
Paige’s supposedly signed guarantor form.
Original.
Forensic review showed signature traced from an apartment application she signed with Kevin years earlier.
Proof.
Then another document.
A contract between Vale and Rusk.
It explicitly described collection pressure against “secondary guarantors” regardless of enforceability.
Paige’s payments were knowingly extorted.
Case stronger.
Then Kevin found one final envelope.
Addressed:
P.W.
He never opened it.
Paige did.
Inside was a printed version of her old design portfolio.
Vale had circled projects.
Northstar.
Meridian Atlas.
A packaging system.
Buster poster.
Notes beside them:
CLEAN.
ADAPTABLE.
NO COMMERCIAL HISTORY.
USE.
Her creativity reduced to criminal tools.
Then a final note:
P.W. herself may be useful later. Good eye. Keeps head down.
Paige stared at it.
Gabriel, beside her after investigators cleared the warehouse, read it too.
“He noticed you.”
“No.”
She folded the page.
“He noticed what he could use.”
Difference.
Then Kevin approached.
No dramatic hug.
He looked exhausted.
“I’m pleading.”
“To what?”
“Fraud. Identity theft conspiracy. Whatever my lawyer negotiates.”
Paige nodded.
Good.
“Will you testify?”
“If asked.”
He looked pained.
“I’m sorry.”
She waited.
“For choosing you because you trusted me.”
That was the right apology.
Not sorry everything went wrong.
Sorry for the choice.
“I loved you,” Paige said.
Kevin’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
“That made what you did easier.”
“Yes.”
“I don’t know if I forgive you.”
“You don’t have to.”
Good.
Then he handed her something.
A flash drive.
“What?”
“Your portfolio backup.”
He had saved it before she stopped designing.
Every original file.
Sketch.
Unused brand concept.
College project.
Paige swallowed.
“I thought I lost these when my old laptop died.”
“I had copies.”
“Why?”
He smiled sadly.
“Because before I became the worst thing in your life, I really did think you were brilliant.”
That hurt.
Because bad people are easier when they were never good.
Kevin had loved her.
And betrayed her.
Both true.
Paige took the drive.
“Thank you.”
That was all.
He left with agents.
Gabriel did not say anything until they were outside.
Then:
“Still want dinner?”
Paige laughed.
“You are unbelievably persistent.”
“Is that a no?”
She looked at the drive.
Her old life.
Maybe not dead.
“Friday.”
His face changed.
“Friday.”
Then Paige pointed at him.
“No Continental.”
“I wasn’t going to suggest it.”
“No private dining room.”
“Fine.”
“No armed men at the next table.”
Gabriel hesitated.
She stared.
“Gabriel.”
“Across the street?”
She burst out laughing.
“We’ll negotiate.”
Then his phone rang.
Natalia.
She had one last piece of Vale’s archive.
A resignation document.
Not Vale’s.
Gabriel’s.
Forged.
Dated three months in the future.
Martin Vale had planned not only to steal money.
May you like
He intended to remove Gabriel Moretti from his own company once the financial scandal broke.
And Paige’s fake company was supposed to be the evidence that brought him down.
