Chapter 8 - The Favorite Son
Daniel Salazar looked nothing like a man caught in a fraud scheme.
His tuxedo was perfect. His salt-and-pepper hair was perfect. Even his expression carried the practiced patience of an executive about to explain why everyone else had misunderstood the spreadsheet.
"Dad," he said, "we should talk privately."
Rafael's voice went flat. "We are private."
Daniel looked at Camila, Mateo, Nolan, and Victoria. "Not enough."
Victoria flinched. "Dad?"
Camila's head turned.
She had known Victoria was a Salazar granddaughter.
She had not realized Daniel was her father.
Suddenly the arrogance made more sense. Not excusable. Just inherited and polished.
Rafael pointed at the laptop. "Tell me that account isn't yours."
Daniel didn't look at it.
"That account is mine."
Victoria whispered, "No."
"But you don't understand why."
Rafael laughed once, without humor. "People say that right before they explain stealing."
"It wasn't stealing."
"Eighty-four thousand dollars from one party?" Mateo said.
Daniel looked at him sharply. "Stay out of family business."
Mateo leaned back. "Your family business put me in a trunk."
That landed.
Daniel's face changed. "What?"
Camila watched him carefully.
He looked genuinely shocked.
Maybe he was lying.
Maybe not.
Daniel stepped toward the computer. "Bianca told me the markups were consulting fees. I approved them because she said vendors had agreed to bundled pricing. The transfers to my account were reimbursements."
"For what?" Rafael asked.
Daniel hesitated.
Rafael's voice rose. "For what?"
"Campaign expenses."
Victoria covered her mouth.
Daniel was running for city council.
He had built his entire campaign around ethics, neighborhood investment, and responsible development.
Rafael stared at his son. "You used money from your mother's birthday to hide campaign spending?"
"No. Bianca used Vela to pay vendors who couldn't appear on public filings yet. I planned to report everything after the quarter."
Mateo shook his head. "That is not what the records show."
Daniel snapped, "You're a bakery bookkeeper."
"I'm a CPA candidate who actually reads account numbers."
Camila almost smiled.
Almost.
Then Nolan opened another file.
A PDF appeared.
SERVICE AGREEMENT - VELA HOSPITALITY CONSULTING.
At the bottom were two signatures.
Bianca Vale.
Daniel Salazar.
And a clause authorizing "discretionary vendor adjustments" up to $250,000.
Rafael read it.
"What were you thinking?"
Daniel's shoulders dropped. "I was trying to win."
"By becoming exactly the kind of man you claimed you'd fight?"
Victoria started crying silently.
Daniel saw her and softened. "Tori - "
"Don't."
It was the first time Camila had heard Victoria sound young.
A knock hit the door.
One of the detectives stepped in.
"We found Ms. Vale."
"Where?" Nolan asked.
The detective looked at Camila.
"In the pastry prep room."
Camila stood.
The detective continued, "And she was pouring something into the filling for the ceremonial cake slice."
The room went dead quiet.
"What something?" Camila asked.
"We don't know yet."
From the ballroom came the emcee's cheerful voice over the speakers.
"Ladies and gentlemen, please gather around. It's time for Mrs. Salazar to cut the cake."
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The Woman They Thought Was Just a Server
