Chapter 8 - The Warehouse
Adrian did not go alone.
He wanted to.
Camila refused.
Naomi refused louder.
Boston police refused after they traced the threatening photograph of Mateo to a contractor connected to Grant.
So at eleven thirty that night, Adrian drove toward the river wearing a wire while detectives waited two blocks away.
Camila sat in an unmarked car with Naomi.
“You should not be here,” Naomi said.
“Neither should he.”
“Fair.”
The warehouse was dark except for one office light.
Victoria waited inside.
Grant stood near the loading doors.
Adrian entered with his hands visible.
“You wanted to talk.”
Victoria laughed.
“I wanted you to remember who you are.”
“I know who I am.”
“No, you’re playing hero because some baker looked at you like you were a person instead of a bank account.”
Adrian’s jaw tightened.
“Where are the original messages?”
“There aren’t any.”
In the surveillance van, a detective smiled.
Camila held her breath.
Victoria continued.
“They were easy to manufacture. Do you know how desperate people are to believe the worst about a woman like her?”
Adrian stared at her.
“A woman like her?”
Victoria rolled her eyes. “Don’t pretend you don’t understand class, Adrian. You built your whole company selling luxury buildings to people who don’t want to live next door to a bakery with a hand-painted sign.”
The words hit because part of them were true.
Adrian did not deny it.
“Did you order the fire?”
Victoria’s smile faded.
“No.”
Grant shifted.
Adrian noticed.
“Grant?”
“Careful,” Grant said.
Victoria turned. “What did you do?”
Grant’s expression changed.
For the first time, Victoria looked genuinely confused.
“I told you to scare her,” she said.
“And I did.”
“You set the bakery on fire?”
Grant shrugged. “It worked for six hours.”
Victoria stepped back.
“You idiot.”
Camila stared through the van monitor.
So Victoria had threatened her.
Planned to steal her work.
Targeted her building.
But the fire had been Grant.
That did not make Victoria innocent.
It made the whole machine uglier.
Adrian took another step.
“And Mateo?”
Grant smiled.
“Just insurance.”
That was enough.
Police moved in.
Everything exploded at once.
Sirens.
Shouting.
Grant ran toward the loading bay.
Victoria screamed his name.
Adrian grabbed her as she slipped near the edge of the platform.
Grant reached a side door—then froze.
Camila stood outside it.
She had left the car.
Naomi swore behind her.
Grant stared at Camila.
“You.”
Camila’s heart hammered.
She was terrified.
But she was done stepping backward.
“You burned my bakery.”
Grant laughed. “Move.”
“No.”
“Camila!” Adrian shouted.
Grant lunged.
Camila threw the only thing in her hand.
A metal flashlight.
It struck his shoulder, not his head, but slowed him long enough for two officers to tackle him.
He hit the pavement hard.
Handcuffs clicked.
Camila stood shaking.
Adrian reached her.
“What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t.”
“That part was obvious.”
She burst out laughing.
Then, to her horror, she started crying.
Adrian pulled her into his arms.
For several seconds, she let him.
Then she stepped back.
Not because she did not want to stay.
Because she did.
And he was still engaged.
Or had been.
Adrian seemed to understand.
He nodded once.
The next morning, Grant was charged with arson, extortion, stalking, and witness intimidation.
Victoria faced conspiracy and fraud investigations.
Hartwell executives began resigning.
But one problem remained.
The engagement.
Every news outlet in the city wanted to know whether Adrian and Victoria were still together.
At noon, Adrian scheduled a press conference.
Camila watched from behind a bakery counter borrowed from a neighboring café.
Adrian stepped to the microphones.
“I owe the public an answer,” he said.
Then he paused.
“I also owe one woman an apology.”
Camila’s breath caught.
Adrian looked straight into the cameras.
“My engagement to Victoria Langford is over.”
Flashbulbs erupted.
But he was not finished.
“And before anyone turns this into a romance story, don’t.”
Camila blinked.
Adrian continued.
“Camila Reyes did not break up my engagement. The truth did.”
For the first time in weeks, Camila felt something inside her unclench.
Then Naomi rushed into the café holding a court notice.
Her face was furious.
“What now?” Camila asked.
Naomi handed her the papers.
Hartwell had filed an emergency injunction.
They were claiming ownership of Camila’s recipes.
May you like
And until the court ruled, Reyes Bakery was forbidden from selling them.
