Page 22 of Vexatious Queen

My impatience grew with each passing second. Then I heard the distinct sound of clicks from a keyboard.

“I have it pulled up now. I see here that your investment has gone extremely well. What is your concern?”

My investment?

“My statement shows that the account was wiped of all but a few hundred thousand at the beginning of December, but now the money is back with a substantial amount added. Can you please explain?”

There was dead silence on the other end of the line before Mr. Valentino cleared his throat.

“I’m not sure I understand the question. We did what we were instructed to do,” he said, and I tapped my finger on the wooden frame of the window.

“Instructed?”

“Yes.”

“By whom?”

The additional clicking normally wouldn’t bother me, but for some reason, the sound was grating on my nerves.

“It says here that it was Mrs. Mikhailov.”

My heart stopped in my chest for a beat, and all I could do was blink.

“I’m sorry, did you say Mrs. Mikhailov? As in the Mrs. Mikhailov,” I asked, like a parrot stuck on one word.

“Um…yes. The banker’s note says that she came into the branch office on November twenty-fifth to initiate a large withdrawal, and then returned January eighth to redeposit the initial amount, plus the returns on your investment.”

What the hell was happening?

“You said she visited the bank?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, Mr. Genovese. Is there something wrong? You sound very perplexed.”

How could I possible tell this man that a dead woman was the one to come into the bank? It made no sense. Was someone masquerading as Yuliana Mikhailov?

In a desperate attempt to cling to hope and the possibility of a future, I’d never removed Ana’s name from the accounts we had opened together in our rebellious youth. Closing them had seemed so final, and I hadn’t been ready to pull that trigger.

But this…this was some sick joke.

“Mr. Valentino, I will need you to send me the security feed from both days.”

The front gates slowly opened as the limo holding Ren arrived.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Genovese, but⁠—”

“No. This is non-negotiable. I don’t care what hoops you must jump through to make it happen, but you will. Or my next call will be to close every account I have with you, forever. If you fail to provide that footage, you may find yourself looking for a new job. I want the file in the next forty-eight hours, or else.”

I hung up before he could argue any further. My heart pounded like a drum in my chest. Was this some sort of sick joke that Patricia was playing? No, that seemed unlikely. Patricia would take the money and run. She wouldn’t return with more.

Could Ana somehow be alive? It seemed just as improbable, considering I couldn’t see her staying away from Ren all this time, and yet…

There was a soft knock at the door, and Ren poked her head inside.

“Hello, my beautiful daughter. It is so good to see you.”

She crossed the room and gave me a hug.

“I’m here for therapy. Are we…still good for dinner after,” she asked, and my smile broadened.