She was in a deep shock, her bones froze, she hadn't heard that name in over 15years, she raised her head and stared at Brooke, "repeat the name," she said just to be sure she heard the right name, "it's your husband..", Brooke said before she interrupted, "ex, never forget that", Amira said, "sorry, its your ex-husband, George Caldwell", Brooke cleared her throat and added, "what did he say?" she asked all tensed up, Brooke brought out the envelope and read it out to her.
"It's a release order. From New York PRISON. It's about George Caldwell."
Brooke blinked. "He has been released?"
Amira's hands shook. "No. He's already out."
Natasha had always loved to take revenge on Amira, so now she decided to use her secret against her. After their fight the first time, she walked into Amira De Fernandez, Natasha's grudge for Amira became stronger, she had been preparing.
The prison visitation room was silent, chilly, and the sterile white walls stared at them, and a ticking clock was louder than their breath. He sat on a metal chair, his hand folded on the table, his head bent down. Natasha walked and sat across from a man who looked nothing like the legend. George Caldwell, who was once towering, clean-cut, a symbol of power and wealth, the same man Amira ran to after Leo, now wore grey, thin-framed glasses, and time on his skin. He looked…old. But his eyes? Still sharp. Still dangerous. He still maintained that.
"I didn't think you'd come," he said, voice low and steady. "I promised myself I wouldn't," Natasha replied, folding her hands. "But the war with Amira is reopening. And she's shaking again. Which means… she's scared of you." George leaned back, smiling faintly. "She should be; she locked me here for 15 years." "Don't worry, George, I brought something for you," she said as she slid a paper across the table, a legal release order, stamped and signed. "Official release in three days". "Why?" George stared at the letter for a while, "I'm here to bail you out, let's take our revenge", she said and smiled, he looked at her and smiled also, "let's fall, Amira De Fernandez"
Present days
Amira stood at the window of her office, Brooke stood behind her, and she was still holding the release letter in her trembling hand. "George Caldwell. Has it been released?" she muttered while staring at the roofs of many people's houses; her office was on the top floor of the building. Free. Alive. And coming back for her. Brooke stood silently in the room, unsure what to say.
"Tell security to double the floor coverage," Amira snapped, immediately. "I want every entrance monitored. No one walks in here without clearance, not even God." Brooke hesitated. "Should I prepare for a meeting or something?" "No," Amira interrupted. "There will be no meeting. Because if George Caldwell walks back through these doors…" She turned slowly, stared at Brooke, and she flinched and moved backwards just by her look, her eyes burning.
"He walks out in a coffin. Trust me". Brooke stood in the office and waited until Amira left for a board call. She has always suspected Amira right from day one of working with her. She ran straight to her desk cabinet and opened it slowly. It was a confidential file, one that Amira swore no one could ever touch. She'd worked for the De Fernandez family and everyone involved for over a decade, and she knew the smell of fear when it hit a room. Amira was unravelling. She flipped through the sealed folders until she found one marked:
Caldwell Estate: Legal Transfer 2007
She opened it and froze. At the top, stamped in gold:
"Primary Beneficiary of the Caldwell-De Fernandez Merger Trust: Female Heir, Initials S.C.F."
Brooke's eyes widened. "There was a collaboration between both companies before she worked with Amira; she never knew. She stared at the file. "Not Brown...?" "What could this abbreviation stand for? She asked herself. She flipped to the amendment page. There it was, George Caldwell's signature.
Her hand began to shake.
A note was attached to the final page, scrawled in Amira's handwriting:
"Bury this. If anyone finds her, we lose everything."
Just then, after reading that last part, her phone buzzed. A message from an unknown number:
"Too late. I've already been found."
She turned around to find out if anybody was watching her at all; it was just her and a file filled with secrets, and a tall building. Her heart started beating rapidly, she felt cold inside, and she dropped the file and walked out of the office silently. The airport looked casual and fancy, a plane just landed from London, United Kingdom, somewhere in the city, the forgotten daughter closed her burner phone… and stepped off the plane.