Chapter 72: A Leak
Nico
According to plan, instead of parking in the underground parking lot, the driver pulled up and parked right in front of the head office where Vanessa was already waiting for me.
I stepped out with a practiced, grand smile on my face, the media already crowding around her, cameras flashing relentlessly as they took pictures while throwing questions her way.
"When did your relationship start?"
"How did the two of you fall in love?"
"Are we to believe that you’re the one in a relationship with Nico Romano and not Carmen Castillo?"
"What’s your full name?"
The shouts overlapped, loud and aggressive, clearly fishing for information. Vanessa didn’t flinch. She barely even reacted, her gaze fixed on me the way we had planned.
Relieved to see her acting skills were actually solid.
I moved closer, sliding my hand around her waist, noting again how similar yet different she was from Carmen. They looked alike, same general features, same bone structure, her blonde hair now dyed black for the role—but something still felt off.
Even when she looked at me and smiled as I leaned in to kiss her on the cheek, it still felt flat. Hollow.
"Can we get a real kiss for the cameras?" one of the reporters shouted.
I almost ignored it. I really couldn’t be bothered—until I caught sight of my marketing director standing just behind the cameras. He gave a subtle nod.
Clearly, it mattered. We needed absolute certainty in the public eye that I was not with Carmen.
Lowering my lips to Vanessa’s, I tightened my hold around her waist and kissed her as convincingly as I could. The crowd erupted instantly—shutters clicking, flashes bursting like a storm around us.
I felt her stiffen for a second before she responded, but even then, I felt nothing. Her lips were soft, she smelled nice, but that was all. No spark. No connection. Just performance.
Still, I played my part. I pulled back slowly, looking at her with a softened expression I had perfected over time—like a man looking at someone he loved.
Then I guided her gently but firmly toward the entrance of the company as the brief photo session ended.
I wasn’t surprised when we entered the elevator and she immediately pulled away, her expression tight with irritation.
She started speaking almost instantly, something she had been trying to bring up since earlier.
"The gunshots at night," she said sharply.
Before I could respond, Martin, who stood behind me, answered on my behalf without hesitation.
"It has been taken care of."
"I deserve to know what happened regardless!" she snapped louder now, her voice echoing slightly in the enclosed space. "Either that or move me somewhere else. I’m scared for my life!"
Her tone grated on my nerves.
I turned my gaze to her slowly. Again, she looked like Carmen at first glance—but she wasn’t. Her blue eyes were duller, her dyed black hair slightly unnatural under the elevator lighting. Her features were softer, her frame more fragile, less defined.
And worse, I’d already had a long morning. The idea that a hired stand-in thought she could raise her voice at me felt almost ridiculous.
"Don’t break her," I reminded myself internally, my jaw tightening as I studied her. I couldn’t afford bruises or visible marks. Not when she was meant to maintain the illusion of my "girlfriend" in public.
I didn’t respond immediately. That silence only seemed to push her further.
"You..." she started again, frustration boiling over.
But I’d already heard enough.
"I’m paying you more money than you’ll ever earn in your life," I said coldly, my voice low and controlled. "You’re practically done with studying, and I’m covering your mother’s bills."
Her expression flickered.
"I’m doing you a favor," I continued through gritted teeth, leaning slightly toward her. "And yet you think you can make demands of me?"
A dark, humorless chuckle escaped me as I shook my head.
"You are nothing," I said plainly. "I can crush you like a bug. Not to mention your mother."
That landed. I saw it immediately—the shift in her posture, the way her confidence cracked.
"I tell you to do something, and I expect you to drop to your knees and do it. No questions asked."
My irritation was sharper than I intended, but I didn’t care in that moment.
"You are only alive because I consider you useful," I finished flatly as the elevator dinged.
The doors slid open.
I stepped out without another glance at her, walking down the corridor toward my office on the topmost floor.
Martin followed closely behind me, and on my right was Lawson, the marketing director responsible for the company’s image. A middle-aged man with hair dyed too dark to hide the passage of time, a growing belly, and a reputation full of compromises—but he was effective. That was all that mattered.
I entered my office and moved straight to my seat. Martin immediately headed to the bar, already anticipating what I wanted, retrieving a bottle of whisky and a glass.
I could feel the tension still sitting in my shoulders. I knew I was more wound up than usual, and that rarely ended well for anyone around me.
Lawson settled into the chair opposite me while Martin placed the bottle down and stepped back into position behind me.
I didn’t reach for the drink immediately.
"There must be a reason you insisted on this meeting," I said, my tone clipped. "So tell me how bad the damage is before I start drinking."
"Bringing the woman out was good," Lawson said carefully. "Whatever backlash might have happened has been contained. She looks like the woman in the pictures. That’s enough. End of story."
I leaned back slightly, waiting. I could tell he wasn’t finished.
"But..." he added after a pause, choosing his words with caution, "I have it on good authority that the SFO might be looking into us for illegal activities."
My expression hardened instantly.
"Our books are clean," I replied sharply, sitting forward now, eyes locked on him.
He nodded quickly. "Yes. Yes, they are clean on the surface."
"They would need a good reason—and a warrant—before they’re allowed to dig that deep," I reminded him, my voice colder now.
"That’s true," he said. "But my source believes they may already have one."
Silence settled between us.
That meant only one thing.
A leak.
’Shit,’ I thought bitterly. ’Like I didn’t already have enough problems.’
I picked up the bottle of whisky and finally poured myself a drink, my movements slower now. I gestured slightly for Lawson to leave.
He understood immediately, standing and exiting the office. The door clicked shut behind him.
I took a slow sip before turning my attention to Martin.
"Go through every employee," I said quietly, my voice low but firm. "One by one. Especially those with access. If anyone has something against me... find it."
