Chapter 2 - THE VIDEO
Aline watched the video three times.
The woman on screen wore her coat.
Her hair.
Her bakery tote.
Even the cheap white sneakers she bought at a discount store.
But it was not her.
She knew that immediately.
The walk was wrong.
Too straight.
Too careful.
Aline walked with one shoulder slightly lower from years of carrying flour sacks.
The woman in the video did not.
Still, security did not care about shoulders.
The timestamp said 7:18 p.m.
Aline had been home by six.
She had a bus receipt.
Maybe.
If she had not thrown it away.
She emptied her trash onto the kitchen floor.
Coffee grounds.
Eggshells.
Receipts.
Nothing.
Her younger brother Lucas stood in the doorway.
“Bad day?”
“Go back to homework.”
“You’re digging through garbage.”
“Advanced business strategy.”
He nodded.
“Cool.”
Then he helped.
They found the bus receipt stuck to the bottom of a yogurt cup.
7:02 p.m.
Route 218.
Across town.
Aline laughed once.
Then cried.
Not elegantly.
She sat on the floor with trash around her and pressed the receipt to her forehead.
Meanwhile, Heitor learned about the complaint from Bernardo.
Heitor’s face went dark.
“Who filed it?”
“Anonymous tenant report.”
“Bullshit.”
Bernardo agreed.
“Also, the footage was uploaded manually.”
“By who?”
“Security admin account.”
The admin credentials belonged to Raul Mendes, the building’s security chief.
Raul had worked there nine years.
He denied uploading anything.
Then admitted Samantha had asked him for temporary access the week before.
“For wedding logistics.”
Heitor looked at him.
“You gave my fiancée security credentials?”
Raul swallowed.
“She said you approved it.”
“Did you verify?”
“No.”
Heitor said nothing.
That was worse than shouting.
Samantha arrived at his office twenty minutes later.
She looked calm.
“Are we really doing this?”
“Yes.”
“Over a baker?”
“Over you.”
She rolled her eyes.
“She is using you.”
Heitor almost laughed.
“How?”
“She saw you defend her.”
“She knows you own the building now.”
“So?”
“So women like that know an opportunity when they see one.”
Heitor stared at her.
“Women like what?”
Samantha paused.
She knew she had gone too far.
Then she tried another road.
“Poor.”
Heitor leaned back.
“Interesting.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
“I don’t.”
Samantha’s voice sharpened.
“You cannot seriously risk our relationship over some sidewalk girl.”
Heitor looked at the engagement ring on her hand.
Three years together.
Four months until the wedding.
A ballroom booked.
Invitations printed.
Families involved.
Then he asked.
“Did you revoke her permit?”
“No.”
“Did you access security?”
“No.”
“Did you create the video?”
She stood.
“This is insulting.”
“That’s not an answer.”
She grabbed her purse.
“I’m leaving.”
Heitor did not stop her.
At the door she turned.
“If you embarrass me again for that woman, I swear you will regret it.”
Heitor said nothing.
Samantha left.
Bernardo entered from the side conference room.
“You heard?”
“All of it.”
“Good.”
Bernardo placed a printout on the desk.
The fake video had been uploaded from a laptop registered to Vale Development Group.
Samantha’s father’s company.
Heitor stared at the page.
Then Bernardo added.
“There’s more.”
Vale Development owed Albuquerque Capital forty-eight million dollars.
The loan matured in thirty days.
May you like
And Samantha’s family had missed the last two interest payments.
