Chapter 2 - THE SIGNATURE THAT SHOULD NEVER HAVE EXISTED
“Camila was the only person who had my passwords.”
Daniel Navarro's voice cracked as he stared at the agreement in his brother's study.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Camila's father, Augusto Duarte, slowly lowered the document.
“That proves absolutely nothing,” he said.
Daniel turned toward him.
“I was unconscious for almost nine hours that day. My right hand was swollen. I couldn't even hold a glass of water.”
Augusto adjusted his expensive silver cuff links.
“The agreement was electronically authorized. Your physical condition is irrelevant.”
“Then show us how I authorized it.”
Camila stepped forward.
“Daniel, you're embarrassing yourself.”
Her voice was gentle now, almost sympathetic.
It was the same voice she'd used while pouring wine down my uniform twenty minutes earlier.
“You've been under tremendous pressure,” she continued. “Nobody would blame you for making a mistake.”
Daniel stared at her.
“A mistake?”
“Your gambling history is complicated. Maybe you don't remember approving certain transactions.”
Across the room, Rafael Navarro slowly removed his jacket.
He placed it over the back of his chair.
“Camila.”
She turned.
“Yes, darling?”
“Stop speaking about my brother as though he isn't standing here.”
The room went silent.
I stood beside the bookshelves, still wearing my stained uniform.
Ten months of working in this mansion had taught me something about Rafael Navarro.
He rarely raised his voice.
And when he became completely still, everyone else became nervous.
“Paulo,” Rafael said, “explain the authorization process.”
The Brazilian banker opened his briefcase again.
“The resignation agreement was approved through the company's internal system. Daniel's credentials were used, and a second senior executive verified the transaction.”
“Who?”
Paulo hesitated.
Augusto interrupted.
“That's confidential.”
Rafael turned toward him.
“Nothing involving my brother's future is confidential from me tonight.”
Paulo opened another page.
His expression changed.
“Mr. Navarro, perhaps we should discuss this privately.”
“We are discussing it privately.”
Paulo placed the document on Rafael's desk.
“Then you should look at the verification name.”
Rafael read it.
For the first time that evening, I saw uncertainty cross his face.
Before he could speak, the study door opened wider.
Daniel's wife, Sofia, stood in the doorway.
She was holding their daughter's small pink cardigan.
“Daniel? Emma keeps asking where you went.”
Her eyes traveled from her husband's pale face to the papers covering the desk.
“What happened?”
Daniel swallowed.
“Someone is trying to make everyone believe I've started gambling again.”
Sofia's expression hardened.
“Who?”
Nobody answered.
Then she noticed Camila.
“Oh,” Sofia said quietly.
That single word carried years of mistrust.
Camila crossed her arms.
“Don't look at me like that.”
Sofia ignored her.
She walked directly to Daniel and took his hand.
“Look at me.”
He did.
“Did you gamble?”
“No.”
“Did you take that money?”
“No.”
Sofia nodded.
“Then we start there.”
Daniel's eyes filled.
He had spent six years rebuilding his wife's trust.
And in one evening, someone had tried to destroy it.
Rafael placed the documents together.
“The celebration continues. Daniel, your promotion is postponed until we establish exactly what happened.”
Daniel flinched.
“So they win?”
“No. I'm preventing anyone from using your name until we know the truth.”
“But you were ready to announce it tonight.”
“And I will announce it when nobody can question your right to the position.”
Camila looked relieved.
I noticed.
So did Sofia.
“That's exactly what she wanted,” Sofia said.
Camila's smile vanished.
“Careful.”
Sofia stepped closer.
“My husband worked for six years to become the man our daughter trusts. You don't get to destroy that because your father wants an office.”
Augusto slammed his palm against the desk.
“This is outrageous!”
Rafael looked at him.
“You'll lower your voice in my house.”
Then he turned toward me.
“Isabel, you said you heard Camila speaking Portuguese.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did she mention Daniel's hospital stay?”
I thought carefully.
“No. But she said something else.”
Camila's face changed.
I continued.
“She told Mr. Mendes, ‘After Daniel signs, the old account disappears beneath the new one.’”
Paulo stared at Camila.
“That's not what you told me the arrangement involved.”
Camila snapped at him in Portuguese.
“Cala a boca, Paulo!”
Shut up, Paulo!
Rafael looked at me.
I translated.
Camila's cheeks reddened.
“You're twisting my words!”
“No, Miss Duarte. I'm repeating them.”
Rafael turned back to the banker.
“What old account?”
Paulo looked down.
“The one used six years ago when Daniel entered treatment.”
Daniel's breathing changed.
“That account was closed.”
“It was supposed to be,” Paulo answered.
Rafael examined the authorization page again.
His thumb stopped beside the second signature.
Sofia noticed.
“Rafael?”
He didn't answer.
She moved closer.
“What is it?”
Rafael slowly turned the page toward his brother.
Beneath the words Senior Executive Authorization was a name printed in black ink.
RAFAEL A. NAVARRO.
Daniel stepped backward.
“You approved my resignation?”
Rafael stared at the page.
Then he said something that made my stomach drop.
“I remember approving a transaction that night.”
Camila's lips parted.
May you like
Rafael looked directly at her.
“But you told me I was authorizing emergency hospital expenses. So why is my approval attached to my brother's resignation?”
