At lunchtime, he left the hotel through the underground parking garage.
He drove to a small restaurant outside the city, where Victor had agreed to meet him.
Victor was already sitting at a table near the back.
Richard sat down.
"You need to help me."
Victor continued reading the menu.
"Good afternoon to you too."
"Don't play games. Jonathan has Michael's documents."
Victor slowly lowered the menu.
"Michael Carter?"
"Yes."
Victor's expression became cold.
"That man should have stayed out of this."
"He has copies of the financial records."
"Copies are not enough."
"They include your company's name."
Victor leaned forward.
"Listen to me, Richard. The only reason you're worried is because you allowed yourself to become emotionally involved."
Richard stared at him.
"You told me everything was legal."
"It was legal when I explained it to you."
"Then why are we hiding documents?"
Victor smiled without warmth.
"Because people ask too many questions when they don't understand business."
Richard shook his head.
"I don't want to be involved anymore."
Victor's expression changed.
"You don't get to decide that now."
"I can tell Jonathan everything."
Victor looked at him for several seconds.
Then he opened his phone and showed him a photograph.
It was a scanned copy of a document bearing Richard's signature.
"This is your approval for the transfer of two million dollars from the welfare fund."
Richard stared at it.
"That wasn't what you told me I was signing."
"Perhaps you should have read it."
Richard felt his stomach tighten.
Victor continued.
"There are three more documents like this. If you cooperate with the investigation, they will all become public."
Richard lowered his head.
"You used me."
Victor shrugged.
"You were offered an opportunity. You accepted it."
For the first time, Richard had no answer.
He left the restaurant feeling trapped.
But as he drove back to the hotel, he remembered something.
There was an old accounting archive in the basement.
Years earlier, he had personally approved the relocation of several financial boxes to a storage facility.
He remembered that one of the boxes contained the original payment instructions.
Victor had asked him to remove it from the main archive.
Richard had obeyed.
Now he wondered whether those documents might be the only evidence capable of establishing the full truth.
He parked his car and sat motionless.
He had two choices.
He could continue protecting Victor and risk losing everything.
Or he could tell the truth and accept responsibility.
Neither choice would be easy.
But for the first time, he considered doing something he had avoided for years.
He considered telling the truth.
That evening, Eleanor sat alone in the hotel library.
She had asked Jonathan to allow her some time without visitors.
The old photograph of Daniel lay on the table.
She remembered the early days of their partnership.
They had not always agreed.
Daniel had been passionate and sometimes stubborn.
Eleanor had been practical and cautious.
But they had trusted one another.
She remembered the night they nearly lost the hotel before it was even completed.
The construction company had demanded additional payment.
The investors had refused to provide more money.
The bank had threatened to withdraw its financing.
Daniel had sat in the unfinished lobby, staring at the empty reception desk.
"I think we have reached the end," he had said.
Eleanor had placed a cup of coffee beside him.
"Then we find another beginning."
He had laughed sadly.
"Where will we find the money?"
She had taken the keys to her apartment from her handbag.
"I can sell my property."
Daniel had immediately refused.
"Absolutely not."
"Why?"
"Because I won't allow you to lose your home for my dream."
Eleanor had looked at him.
"It's not your dream anymore. It's ours."
She eventually sold the apartment.
The money was enough to keep the project alive.
When the hotel opened, Daniel promised that she would never regret the sacrifice.
And for many years, she hadn't.
The hotel had become successful.
Thousands of guests had passed through its doors.
Hundreds of employees had built careers there.
But now, Eleanor wondered whether the dream had survived its founders.
A gentle knock interrupted her thoughts.
It was Olivia.
"May I come in?"
"Of course, dear."
Olivia entered carrying a cup of tea.
"I thought you might like something warm."
Eleanor smiled.
"That's very thoughtful."
Olivia placed the cup on the table.
"May I ask you something?"
"Certainly."