Dona Cida watched with wet eyes. She had been a single mother once. She knew that kind of fear.
“Listen to me, Amanda. I’ll help you. But you have to trust me. The baby stays with me here in the pantry while you work. There’s a meeting next door, yes—but I’ll distract her. You clean the private bathroom in the meeting room. It’s quick. If she cries, you’ll hear her.”
Amanda swallowed hard. There was no other way.
Meanwhile, in the boardroom, Arthur Albuquerque entered like a silent storm. Impeccable black suit. Dark eyes. Six middle-aged directors sweated despite the air conditioning.
“Good evening,” he said, without warmth.
It wasn’t a greeting. It was protocol.
“Someone is going to explain how two million dollars disappeared from our account,” he said calmly—terrifyingly so.
The CFO cleared his throat.
“We’re investigating. There were unauthorized transfers to a ghost account. We suspect—”
“I didn’t ask for suspicions. I asked for explanations,” Arthur cut in. “Where’s my brother Roberto? He should be here.”
Silence fell. Arthur already knew.
“The transfers started after Roberto took over the department,” the CFO admitted, trembling.