Chapter 5 - An Unholy Alliance
Clara found them by the fountain ten minutes before the opening speech was scheduled. She had thrown a dark wool overcoat over her sparkling champagne dress, the hem trailing slightly in the damp grass.
"Julian," she whispered, her eyes wide with urgency. "The board members are asking for you. Marcus Hayes is already at the podium, setting up the foundation’s five-year expansion."
Julian introduced Mateo with a simple nod. Clara paused, recognizing the name instantly. The hostility drained from her face, replaced by an uneasy, sorrowful respect.
"Mr. Ortiz," Clara said quietly. "Your father's name was on the harbor docks. My grandfather built the cranes that stood next to his warehouse."
Mateo looked at her, his expression softening slightly. "Then you know how clean the water looked before they dumped the foundation stones. Your family made profits, young lady. Mine made graves."
"We didn't know," Clara said.
"Ignorance is the luxury of the wealthy," Mateo replied without bitterness. "You don't need to look at the grease when you only ride in the carriage."
Julian stepped between them, his posture changing. The stiffness in his shoulders dissolved, replaced by an exhaustion that bordered on surrender. "Mr. Ortiz, in five minutes, I am supposed to take the microphone and announce a fifty-million-dollar gift to the city's arts council. My father's name will be chiseled above the entryway of the new theater."
"A fitting monument," Mateo said dryly.
"I am not giving that speech," Julian said.
May you like
Clara turned to him, her eyes searching his. "Julian, if you break contract with Hayes tonight, they will strip you of the CEO title by tomorrow breakfast."
"Then I won't have to wear the tuxedo anymore," Julian said, offering her a faint, weary smile.
