Page 59 of Confusing Cade
“Fine. I found at least part of the problem.” He gave a raw and strained exhale, then pulled one folder from the stack. Its surface was worn and smudged. “I think Bella Moretti’s been sabotaging the Promenade project by targeting the grand opening to undermine our media and publicity efforts.”
The words slammed into me like a rogue wave, leaving me breathless. Of all the crises I’d braced for, this was beyond comprehension. I’d expected supply chain hiccups, permitting delays or a devasting budget shortfall, but...Bella?
“That can’t be right,” I managed. “How?”
Chris’s jaw clenched, but his eyes stayed locked on mine, unwavering. “For one, she’s been leaking misleading information to key media outlets. We found emails where she contacted reporters, feeding them false details about the grand opening’s timeline and budget overruns. And then there’s the press conference.”
“Go ahead.”
“Ms. Moretti’s also been quietly discouraging the local networks from attending, claiming to them that the event’s ‘unconfirmed’ or ‘underprepared.’”
I stared at him, my pulse thundering in my temples, the room shrinking until it felt like the walls were pressing against my ribs. The air was thick, suffocating, as if it carried the weight of her betrayal. Bella’s face flickered in my mind, the way she looked at me in Park City in the dressing room, the way she smiled at me under the moonlight of the fundraiser...have I missed it? Has there been something in her eyes I’ve been too blind to notice?
“This can’t be true,” I whispered. “Show me the proof.”
“Sir, I’m afraid it is.” Chris’s face crumpled, his eyes shadowed with a grief that mirrored my own disbelief. His handtrembled as he slid a small thumb drive across my desk. “I backed it all up offline just in case. We’ve been digging into this for days, and I swear to you, every shred of evidence points to the same damn conclusion.”
My jaw clenched so tight I could feel the ache creeping up to my temples, but I forced my face to stay a blank mask. Chris wasn’t the type to throw accusations around lightly. He was solid, dependable, and one of the few people in this office I trusted implicitly, second only to David. If he was certain about this, I had no reason to question him.
Nothing except the cold knot of dread twisting in my gut.
“Everything’s in there?” My voice came out steady, but it felt like someone else was speaking.
Chris nodded, his gaze dropping to his lap. Chris obviously knew I was involved with Bella if his sense of disappointment was so great.
I couldn’t bring myself to access the directory. Not yet. The truth inside felt like a blade waiting to cut too deep. “What’s your recommendation?”
Chris cleared his throat, his floppy white hair quivering to reveal a bald spot that seemed to have widened in the last few months, a quiet marker of the stress we’d all been under. Soon, that comb-over wouldn’t hide a thing. “That... that you cut her out. Pull her from the Promenade project and the grand opening entirely.”
“She was barely involved to begin with,” I said, the words sharper than I intended. My mind raced, replaying every conversation, every glance. Had I missed something? Some sign?
He sighed, heavy and weary. “But it seems she took the expanded access you gave her and ran with it. Far.”
I frowned, my chest tightening as I leaned back in my chair, the leather creaking under my weight. “This doesn’t add up. It’snot... her. She’s never given me a hint she’s scheming about the Promenade.”
“Then she’s been a good liar.” Chris leaned forward, placing a small stack of additional papers on the floor beside his chair. “I haven’t breathed a word of this to anyone else. Once I pieced it together, I came straight to you.”
“Thank you,” I said, the words automatic, hollow.
“Listen,” Chris said, his voice softer now, like he was trying to cushion a blow. “I know how much she means to you. I know she’s... important. But you’ve got to look at this. We’ve poured too much into the Promenade to let it unravel now.”
He was right, and that truth settled like a stone in my chest. The Promenade wasn’t just a project. It had never beenjusta project. It was years of my life, countless late nights, egos soothed, contracts fought over. It was the dream I’d inherited, the one I’d sworn to see through. Investors, employees... hell, the entire community, were all counting on me to deliver.
“I appreciate you bringing this to me,” I said, my voice carefully neutral, though it felt like I was choking on every syllable. As the CEO, I had to keep this company steady, no matter what it cost me. No matter how much it hurt to imagine her betrayal, to picture her face and wonder if I’d been blind all along.
Even if it felt like tearing out a piece of my soul.
Chris stood, picked up the binders from the floor, and placed them atop an open space on the edge of my desk. “I’m sorry to be the bearer of bad news.”
We said goodbye, and after he left, I stared at the computer files for a long time.
“Ms. Moretti’s been quietly discouraging the local networks from attending, claiming to them that the event’s ‘unconfirmed’ or ‘underprepared.’”
Could that really be true? Could the woman I was almost sure I was in love with be capable of such...viciousness?
