Enough to make the message clear.
But covering up a serious crime is expensive.
Chloe needed more money.
And because she worked in public relations for the Montalvo Foundation, she had temporary access to certain administrative systems.
Over three weeks, she created fake vendors and moved money through structured wire transfers.
One million dollars.
Money taken from a charitable foundation that funded medical programs for children.
My sister had stolen charity money to conceal what she had done to Daniela.
Then she ran out of time.
A federal audit was due to begin in less than two weeks.
The missing money had to be replaced before auditors compared the ledgers.
That was why my parents had suddenly remembered I existed.
Not regret.
Not love.
Not reconciliation.
They needed my bank account.
Two days later, Chloe barged into my office.
She pushed past my assistant and slammed the doors behind her.
The elegant socialite I had seen in photographs was gone.
Her hair was messy.
Her expensive coat was wrinkled.
Her hands shook.
“Where’s the money?”
I remained seated.
“Good morning, Chloe.”
“Stop playing games.”
She slapped one hand onto my desk.
“If you don’t transfer it today, I’ll destroy you publicly.”
I raised an eyebrow.
She continued.
“I’ll tell everyone you abandoned this family. I’ll tell the press you’re vindictive and unstable. Do you really think your board wants a CEO who lets her own sister go to prison?”
