Chapter 2 - The Fire and the Truth"Camila," Declan breathed, the name tasting like ash on his tongue. He lowered the Sig Sauer, his finger slipping off the trigger as his brain struggled to reconcile the trembling, soft-spoken woman he had lived with for twelve months with the towering figure of fury standing before him.
Camila didn't flinch. She didn't drop her gaze, nor did she offer the nervous, apologetic smile she usually wore when he walked into a room. Instead, she let the leather-bound ledger slip from her fingers, watching it drop heavily into the heart of the blazing pyre.
The fire hissed, swallowing the gold-embossed lettering on the cover.
"You're home early, Declan," Camila said. Her voice wasn't the timid whisper he was used to. It was smooth, steady, and cut through the crackle of the flames with absolute clarity.
"What in God's name are you doing?" Declan demanded, taking two cautious steps into the smoke-filled room. His eyes swept the wreckage. Shredded files, melted computer hard drives, and shattered porcelain vases littered the floor. "Agnes called me. She said... she thought you were destroying yourself. But this—" He gestured broadly at the fire. "This is Elena's study."
"This," Camila corrected, stepping over a burning stack of documents with an eerie, predatory grace, "is a shrine to a liar."
Declan’s jaw tightened. A dark, protective instinct flared in his chest, mixed with profound confusion. "Elena is dead, Camila. Watch your mouth."
"Elena is dead," Camila agreed, a bitter, humorless smile touching her lips. "And she left behind a masterpiece of deception. For three years, you've mourned your sister like a martyr. You've protected her name, funded her phantom charities, and kept her syndicate running under the table, believing she was the honorable one in the family."
"She was my sister," Declan growled, his patience wearing thin as the heat of the fire radiated against his face. "She kept the family afloat when our father went down."
"She didn't keep the family afloat, Declan. She drowned them," Camila snapped, stepping right up to him.
Up close, the transformation was startling. There was no trace of the submissive girl he had married. Her eyes burned with a cold, calculating brilliance that rivaled his own during his most ruthless moments.
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She reached into the pocket of her stained dress and pulled out a small, heavy silver flash drive, pressing it firmly into his chest.
"That fire isn't the end, Declan," Camila whispered, her gaze boring straight into his soul. "It's the cleanup. And if you want to stay alive long enough to see tomorrow, you're going to listen to every word I have to say about your saintly sister."
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