Chapter 4 - What Camila Really Wanted
We moved the emergency meeting to a secure conference room inside my father’s house.
No one trusted headquarters.
Not anymore.
By eleven twenty, twelve board members appeared on encrypted video screens.
Two were in New York.
One was in Madrid.
Another joined from São Paulo.
Everyone had seen the headlines.
Everyone had received the photograph.
And everyone wanted an explanation.
I sat beside my father.
Alejandro and Beatriz waited in another room.
They had no place in the board discussion.
For the first time that morning, I felt relieved to have a door between us.
The meeting began exactly at eleven thirty.
Martin Lozano, our lead independent director, spoke first.
“Valeria, you understand why this situation concerns us.”
“I do.”
“You concealed a family connection while the De la Vega proposal was under review.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
I continued.
“I disclosed my marriage when the proposal first entered committee review.”
“Our records show that.”
Another director interrupted.
“But not that your father-in-law’s company was the borrower.”
“The company name is Desarrollos De la Vega.”
“I assumed everyone could make the connection.”
A few people smiled.
Martin did not.
“Did you ever influence the initial evaluation?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
Dad answered.
“No.”
“Did you discuss the transaction privately?”
“Yes.”
Several faces changed.
I did not hide it.
“Yesterday.”
“After the restaurant incident?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because my father informed me that the De la Vegas had previously approached Vanguardia.”
Martin leaned back.
“Then why did you keep your committee role?”
“Because until yesterday I had no intention of approving the deal.”
Silence.
That was important.
The accusations assumed I wanted to rescue Alejandro.
The reality was the opposite.
I had considered the proposal financially weak.
Another director spoke.
“Would you have voted against it?”
“Yes.”
“Because of your divorce?”
“No.”
I opened the risk report.
“Because the debt-to-equity ratio is unacceptable under our current bridge financing policy.”
I listed the problems.
Construction overruns.
Weak liquidity.
Overreliance on presales.
Aggressive revenue projections.
Potential zoning delays.
For ten minutes, nobody interrupted.
When I finished, Martin looked almost amused.
“Apparently you understand business.”
I knew he had seen Alejandro’s email.
“So I’m told.”
A few directors laughed.
The tension eased.
Then Martin became serious.
“The greater issue is the breach.”
Dad nodded.
“Ricardo Salazar is suspended effective immediately.”
“We should assume he is listening,” Martin said.
“I already revoked his credentials.”
“And Camila Serrano?”
“Law enforcement has been notified.”
Martin looked at me.
“We also need to discuss your vote.”
There it was.
I sat straighter.
“My personal history with Alejandro creates the appearance of conflict.”
“It also creates the appearance of hostility.”
“Meaning?”
“If you vote yes, people say you rescued your ex-husband.”
“And if I vote no?”
“They say you punished him.”
Exactly.
The trap was perfect.
Either decision could be attacked.
That meant Ricardo did not simply want me removed.
He wanted my replacement.
And if he was suspended, someone else would take my committee vote.
“Who becomes acting chair if I recuse myself?”
Martin hesitated.
Dad answered.
“Daniel Ortega.”
I turned.
Daniel Ortega.
Senior committee member.
Brilliant.
Quiet.
And one of Ricardo Salazar’s oldest allies.
My stomach tightened.
“Then I’m not recusing myself.”
Martin sighed.
“Valeria.”
“This is exactly what they want.”
“We don’t know that.”
“Then ask why Ricardo triggered the conflict review before the leak became public.”
Nobody spoke.
I continued.
“He filed the board request before his flight.”
“He knew the article was coming.”
“He knew the anonymous photograph was coming.”
“And he knew which board procedures would activate once it happened.”
I leaned toward the camera.
“He wasn’t reacting to a conflict.”
“He created one.”
Martin’s expression changed.
That was the moment the room began taking me seriously.
Dad looked toward our security officer.
“Gabriel.”
“We’re reviewing Ortega.”
“Do it faster.”
The meeting adjourned without removing me.
That was not victory.
It was time.
When I returned to the sitting room, Alejandro stood immediately.
“What happened?”
“I kept my position.”
Beatriz exhaled.
“That helps us.”
I stared at her.
“Not everything is about your company.”
Her expression tightened.
Alejandro looked at the blue folder.
“Are you rejecting the financing?”
“I haven’t decided.”
He nodded.
That surprised me.
No argument.
No begging.
Before I could say anything, his phone rang.
Camila.
Everyone saw the name.
Alejandro looked at me.
“Answer it.”
He did.
“Camila.”
Her voice came through clearly.
“Alejandro, I need you to listen carefully.”
“Where are you?”
“That doesn’t matter.”
“It matters to me.”
“You’re angry.”
“You broke into Vanguardia.”
She laughed softly.
“I walked through an unlocked door.”
“Ricardo let you in.”
“Ricardo lets many people into many places.”
“Why?”
Silence.
Then she asked something unexpected.
“Is Valeria there?”
Alejandro looked at me.
I nodded.
“Yes.”
Camila laughed again.
“Of course she is.”
I stepped closer to the phone.
“What do you want?”
“You still think this is about Alejandro.”
“What is it about?”
“You.”
The room went completely silent.
I felt my father move beside me.
Camila continued.
“Alejandro was useful.”
“His father was useful.”
“The financing proposal was useful.”
“But none of them were the target.”
My hand tightened.
“What target?”
“You really have no idea, do you?”
“No idea about what?”
Her voice softened.
“Ask your father why your mother died.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
Dad went still.
Camila disconnected.
I turned toward him.
My father’s face had changed.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
Fear.
My mother had died when I was fourteen.
A car accident on the highway to Cuernavaca.
That was what I had been told for twenty-two years.
I looked at Dad.
“What did she mean?”
He said nothing.
“Dad.”
His eyes closed briefly.
And that was when I knew.
May you like
Camila had not invented the question.
My father knew exactly what she meant.
