Chapter 9 - The Child in the Middle
Camille was found the following morning.
Alive.
She walked into an emergency room in Providence wearing borrowed clothes and no shoes.
She asked for police before treatment.
Isabella learned three hours later.
“Can I see her?”
Grace shook her head.
“She has counsel.”
“I’m the victim.”
“Exactly.”
Camille was also potentially a cooperating defendant in Isabella’s attempted murder.
Every conversation mattered.
Isabella hated that law turned family betrayal into access rules.
But she listened.
Camille’s attorney arranged a limited meeting later that day with investigators present.
Camille looked smaller.
A bruise darkened her wrist.
Isabella remained standing.
Camille whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Camille closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“Do not start with sorry.”
“What do you want me to start with?”
“The truth.”
Camille nodded.
She explained what happened at Bellhaven.
Julian discovered the second phone.
He dragged her toward Charles’s study.
Camille broke away in the chapel corridor, hid the USB, and ran through an old sacristy exit.
A groundskeeper helped her leave through a service gate.
“Why didn’t Dad stop Julian?”
“Because Charles wanted the phone.”
“Did your father know about the yacht?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“All of it.”
Isabella swallowed.
“Who chose me and Maria for the cabin?”
“Dad.”
Maria’s face hardened.
“Why?”
Camille looked at her.
“He said you were Victor’s archive.”
Maria went still.
“He didn’t know about the key?”
“No. But he believed you had something.”
“What about Isabella?”
Camille looked at her cousin.
“The trust.”
“Only the trust?”
“And Julian.”
Isabella laughed bitterly.
“Meaning?”
“Julian said as long as you were alive, he could never control enough of Laurent Oceanic.”
“You think he controlled me?”
Camille’s eyes filled.
“He thought he did.”
That hurt because Isabella knew there had been truth in it.
Julian influenced her board appointments.
Her travel.
Her investments.
Even her medical information.
Camille continued.
“He said after you died, everyone would treat him like a grieving fiancé. Dad would control the trust temporarily. Orion would close.”
“And you would inherit if I were declared dead.”
“Yes.”
“Then marry Julian.”
“Yes.”
Isabella finally sat.
“How long did you plan this?”
“Seven months.”
Seven months.
Camille had attended Isabella’s bridal shower six weeks earlier.
“You helped me write wedding vows.”
Camille began crying.
“I know.”
“Did you laugh afterward?”
“No.”
“Did you sleep with him that night?”
Camille covered her mouth.
Isabella stood again.
Maria said softly, “Isabella.”
She turned away.
Camille whispered, “I hated you.”
Isabella faced her.
“For what?”
“Everything.”
There it was.
Not money alone.
“You were Victor’s daughter. You got the shares. The company. Bellhaven after Charles. Every board member treated me like decoration.”
“My father paid for your education.”
“I know.”
“He gave you a job.”
“Under you.”
“You wanted my life.”
Camille looked ashamed.
“Yes.”
“And Julian knew.”
“Yes.”
“He fed it.”
“Yes.”
Isabella thought of Julian comforting Camille at family dinners.
What she saw as kindness had been recruitment.
Camille continued.
“He told me you didn’t love him.”
“Did he love you?”
“I thought so.”
“Do you still?”
Camille placed a hand over her belly.
“I don’t know what any of it was.”
Isabella stared at the pregnancy.
“The baby?”
Camille’s voice broke.
“His.”
That mattered legally only in family-court and support terms later.
Emotionally, it explained too much.
Maria asked, “What do you know about Victor’s death?”
Camille looked at her father’s name in the transcript.
“Dad told me Uncle Victor’s heart failed.”
“Did Julian tell you different?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last year.”
“What exactly?”
“That Reeves made sure Victor wouldn’t survive long enough to move the shares.”
Isabella stopped breathing.
“Move them where?”
“Out of the family succession clause.”
Grace leaned forward.
“Victor planned to change the trust?”
Camille nodded.
“He wanted the shares to go to an independent foundation if Isabella died before thirty-five. Dad found out.”
That gave Charles a direct motive.
If Victor completed the amendment, Camille would no longer inherit through the family branch.
Isabella whispered, “He poisoned him before he could sign.”
Camille cried.
“I think so.”
Grace remained careful.
“We need evidence.”
Camille nodded.
“There’s a draft.”
“Where?”
“Julian has it.”
“Why?”
“Blackmail.”
“Against Charles?”
“Yes.”
For the first time, the structure became clear.
Julian was not simply Charles’s subordinate.
He had leverage too.
His father Graham had helped Charles conceal old theft.
Julian inherited the records.
Then obtained Victor’s unsigned trust amendment.
He used it to make Charles dependent.
Camille said, “They hate each other.”
Isabella almost laughed.
“They tried to murder me together.”
“Because Orion makes them both rich.”
“How rich?”
Camille looked toward Grace.
“Dad’s side agreement pays him ninety-two million dollars through a management company.”
“And Julian?”
“Thirty-eight million officially.”
“Unofficially?”
“Six percent carried interest in Orion’s resort vehicle.”
Grace’s expression changed.
That interest could become worth hundreds of millions.
The murder was not a crime of passion.
It was a transaction.
Camille wiped her face.
“There’s one more thing.”
Isabella waited.
“Julian made me sign a letter.”
“What letter?”
“Saying the yacht sabotage was my idea.”
Camille looked terrified.
“He planned to blame me if anything went wrong.”
Power reversed again.
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The woman who helped kill Isabella had herself been prepared as the fall person.
And somewhere in Rhode Island, Julian still possessed the one trust draft that connected Charles’s financial motive to Victor’s death.
