Chapter 18 Amara #2
I walk them through it step by step. No theatrics. No raised voice. Just facts, laid out in sequence like puzzle pieces clicking into place.
The forged board memo designed to implicate Corin in land displacement.
The shell company network Xavier created six years ago.
The wire transfers. The corporate registrations.
The timeline showing how Xavier’s scheme evolved from financial manipulation at the foundation level to direct predatory purchasing of island land.
I use the overhead slides to show the connections visually. I cite the relevant corporate registration statutes. I read excerpts from the testimony of families Xavier pressured.
Twenty minutes. That’s all it takes.
When I finish, the room is silent.
Xavier’s formerly confident smile has curdled into something ugly. His jaw is tight, and his hands are gripping the armrests of his chair so hard that his knuckles are white.
Then a local fisherman in the middle of the room stands up. I recognize him from one of our workshops. Miguel, I think. His family almost signed one of Xavier’s predatory contracts before we intervened.
“So Mr. Laurent’s been lying to us?” His voice carries across the hall.
I meet his eyes. “Yes.”
Xavier starts to rise. “Now wait just a moment, I can explain...”
Oh, this should be good.
“These are...” He clears his throat, attempting to regain some dignity. “These are simply business transactions. Standard acquisitions. If there were any administrative oversights in the paperwork, I can assure you they were unintentional. I’ve been working in good faith to—”
Someone in the back laughs.
Not a polite chuckle. A full bark of disbelief.
Xavier’s face goes red. “I don’t think you people understand the complexity of international corporate structures. The holding companies in question are perfectly legal entities designed to—”
“Hide ya ass,” someone mutters.
More laughter now. Bitter, knowing laughter from people who’ve watched too many smooth-talking outsiders try to explain away theft with fancy words.
Xavier tries again, his voice rising. “If you would just let me explain the full context—”
Marisol cuts him off. “Hush your mouth. You’re done here.”
The room erupts in murmurs.
I watch Xavier’s face cycle through several expressions. Outrage. Calculation. The dawning realization that he’s lost.
He straightens his jacket and walks out without another word.
I watch Thorne follow him outside.
Making sure he actually leaves.
The meeting continues for another hour. Questions from community members. Clarifications about what happens next. Marisol coordinates with local officials about next steps, and I answer everything as clearly and thoroughly as I can.
By the time we wrap up, I’m exhausted. The adrenaline crash is hitting hard.
Keon drives Corin and me back to The Westlight. Thorne follows in a second vehicle. Counter-surveillance, I guess. Making sure Xavier’s people aren’t tailing us.
I barely notice. I’m too busy staring out the window, replaying every moment of the meeting in my head, looking for mistakes I might have made.
Typical.
You just won, and you’re already looking for ways you might have screwed up.
When we finally reach the private villa at the resort, Corin disappears onto the terrace.
I find him there twenty minutes later, after I’ve splashed water on my face and changed out of my formal clothes.
The sun is setting over the water, painting everything in shades of orange and pink. Corin is standing at the railing with his back to me. His shoulders seem tense.
“Hey.” I approach slowly. “You okay? We won, remember?”
He turns. And that’s when I see it.
He’s shaking.
Not from fear. Not from anger. But from relief so profound his body is having trouble processing it.
“You did it.” His voice cracks. “You actually did it.”
I cross the distance between us and take his shaking hands in mine. His fingers are cold despite the warm evening air.
“I did it because of you,” I remind him. “You gave me the tools. The archived files from the transparency room. The accountant emails. Access to everything I needed.” I squeeze his hands. “You built the infrastructure for honesty, Corin. I just followed the trail you made possible.”
He stares at me like I’ve handed him something precious. His eyes are bright.
“I don’t deserve you,” he says finally.
And here’s the thing. A month ago, I would have agreed. I would have seen his flaws, his walls, his history of choosing optics over honesty, and I would have used them as reasons to keep him at arm’s length.
But I’m not the same person I was a month ago.
I’ve watched him fight for this community. Watched him accept accountability. Watched him open himself up to vulnerability even when every instinct told him to retreat.
He’s not perfect.
Neither am I.
But he’s trying.
As am I.
“No,” I agree. “But I’m here anyway.”
He pulls me into his arms, and I let him hold me as the sun sinks below the horizon.
Corin, I think I’m in love with you.
I don’t think I ever stopped loving you.
I keep that to myself.