Chapter 3: What the Email Said
I walked the rest of the way to my office with the folded paper pressed flat against my palm.
My assistant, a composed woman named Diane who had been with the company for eleven years, stood up the moment I entered.
She started to speak.
I held up one finger.
She sat back down.
I closed the door, moved to the window, and unfolded the paper.
The email was dated six weeks ago.
Alexander had written to a firm called Harwick & Sole, Attorneys at Law.
The body of the message was short.
*Please proceed with the pre-emptive asset separation as discussed.
Priority assets are the Westchester property, the Cayman holding account, and the Montalvo Global founder shares currently registered in joint name.
Timing is critical — this must be completed before the board announcement.
She cannot have access to these once the appointment is confirmed.*
*She.*
I read the word three times.
He wasn't protecting the company.
He was protecting those assets from me specifically — before I had any legal authority to examine them.
I set the paper on the desk.
Sat down.
Looked at it.
Diane knocked once and opened the door.
"Your nine-thirty is waiting in the small conference room.
Also, Mr.
Montalvo called down and asked if you'd arrived."
"Tell him I'll come by his office after the press release."
"Of course." She hesitated.
"Are you all right?"
"Pull me everything we have on Harwick and Sole.
Quietly.
Don't go through the main legal team."
She didn't ask why.
"I'll have it within the hour."
The nine-thirty was a budget review I had scheduled before flying in.
I sat through forty minutes of it and heard almost none of it.
My mind kept returning to one phrase.
*Before the board announcement.* Alexander had known the appointment was coming.
He had known — and his first move was not to call me, not to congratulate me, not even to ask what my plans were.
His first move was to call a law firm and begin separating assets.
After the meeting, I stood at the window of my office on the 68th floor and looked out over Manhattan.
Somewhere below, in a building I couldn't see, a law firm had already begun moving pieces I had spent ten years helping to build.
Diane appeared in the doorway.
"I found the firm.
Harwick and Sole.
They specialize in high-asset divorce proceedings and pre-litigation financial restructuring."
The word landed quietly.
Divorce.
Not estate planning.
Not tax strategy.
Divorce.
"How long have they been retained?" I asked.
"Based on what I can find from their public filings, at least eight weeks."
Eight weeks ago, I had been in Singapore closing a deal that added twelve percent to Montalvo Global's quarterly revenue.
Alexander had called me that same week.
*I'm proud of you,* he had said.
*Come home soon.*
"One more thing," Diane said.
She stepped fully into the office and lowered her voice.
"The junior employee who handed you that paper this morning — her name is Sofia Reyes."
I turned from the window.
"Reyes."
"Camila's younger sister.
She started here four months ago." Diane's expression was careful.
"She came to me about thirty minutes ago.
She says she has more."
The press release was going out in eleven minutes.
Alexander's office was two floors down.
And somewhere in this building, Camila's own sister had just handed me a document that could unravel everything her sister had built.
May you like
"Send Sofia to me," I said.
"After the announcement."
