Ade Senior invited Amara to his office the next morning. This time she went because the request was formal and Dr. Eze joined by video call. Ade stood behind his desk when she entered.
“You have had an eventful week.”
“So have you.”
He almost smiled.
“Sit.”
Amara did.
The office walls held four decades of corporate history. Groundbreakings. Handshakes. Magazine covers. A photograph of Ade and Matteo was conspicuously absent. Ade folded his hands.
“Your brother deceived this company.”
“Yes.”
“He compromised an internal employee credential.”
“Evidence indicates someone acting for him did.”
“He manipulated your engagement.”
“Yes.”
“You sound remarkably calm about that.”
“I am not here to discuss my feelings about Dante.”
“No. You are here to investigate me.”
“Forensic activity across the group.”
“Please, Ms. Okonkwo.” His voice hardened. “We are beyond euphemism.”
Amara waited.
Ade leaned back.
“Dante has spent most of his adult life trying to destroy what he believes I stole from his father. He found you and placed you here because your existence was useful to that objective.”
Every word was true. That was why it hurt.
“He wanted you to become a weapon,” Ade continued.
“Do not explain my brother to me.”
“I am explaining the danger of assuming that the person who hates me is therefore incapable of manipulating you.”
“I make no such assumption.”
“Then why continue?”
“Because your records do not become innocent because Dante behaved badly.”
Ade’s eyes narrowed.
Dr. Eze’s voice came through the speaker. “Chairman, if you have evidence challenging a specific finding, provide it.”
“I have context.”
Amara almost laughed. Ade looked at her.
“You think that word is an excuse.”
“I think you use it like one.”
His expression changed. For a moment, Amara saw something of the man from Matteo’s letters: not rage exactly, but the deep offense of someone accustomed to his reasoning carrying more weight than other people’s objections.
“Adeyemi Group employs over six thousand people directly,” he said. “Thousands more depend on our projects. If thirty-year-old allegations are released carelessly, lenders pull facilities, contracts freeze, people who have never heard Matteo’s name lose jobs.”
“And therefore?”
“Therefore truth has consequences.”
“Yes.”
“You say that easily.”
“No. I say it because it remains true even when consequences are frightening.”
Ade watched her.
“You sound like him.”
The sentence entered the room before either of them seemed prepared for it. The sentence stopped her.
“Matteo?”
Ade looked away. He had said too much. Amara felt the opening and resisted the urge to rush into it.
“What did he sound like?”
Ade did not answer.
“Chairman?” Dr. Eze prompted.
He stood.
“This meeting is over.”
Amara rose too. At the door, Ade spoke again without turning.
“Dante wants you to believe there is one villain in this story because that makes revenge simpler.”
Amara looked at his back.
“You’re right about one thing.”
He turned.
“I don’t think there is only one person capable of using me.”
She left him with that.