I’m writing a few Crimes of Passion fics which follows my MC, Cameron Rose at various stages of his life, starting with his birth and finishing up with his wedding. There’s some details (mostly from book 3) that I’ve chosen to ignore.
Chapter 6 - The Exiled Prince
In which Detective Rose and Prince Trystan make their first impressions.
Private detective Cameron Rose looked up at the intimidating high-rise that stood in one of Manhattan’s wealthiest neighbourhoods, and realised Mafalda wasn’t the only one with a migraine coming on. He’d dealt with the wealthy a few times when he was homicide detective, and all of them had had ridiculous levels of arrogance and entitlement, but even they weren’t rich enough to live in a place like this. Whatever he’d dealt with in the past was going to be nothing compared to this.
It took a lot more smooth-talking than usual to get the security team to let him into the building, and even more to keep his taser, but finally he was alone in the elevator speeding to the top. Of course, Thorne was so loaded he lived in the penthouse. What made the situation even worse was that he wouldn’t be able to give as good as he got; regardless of how rude Thorne might be, Cameron was going to have to kiss ass and tread carefully; it was the only way to get through to people like him.
The penthouse door was ajar but he knocked anyway. Nothing happened. He cautiously pushed the door open to reveal a scene of destruction.
“What the…”
***
The warm water ran down his body, relaxing him and temporarily easing his headache. Trystan Thorne took his time washing in his body lotion – he was still a little dizzy from the drink – and then shampoo and conditioner, massaging his pounding temples. The party he had thrown last night was one for the books, but he was paying for it today.
The cold light of dawn served as reminder that he was seriously in need of a new project to work on. Maybe a fundraiser for one of the charities he supported, or perhaps finding a new small business to invest in. Or perhaps he could start writing again. It had been a while since he had last published something, under a pen name of course; the humble Scott Styles was a small-time romance writer who just wanted to give characters happy endings, and was far-removed from the exiled Prince of Drakovia and his uncertain future.
Trystan sighed and turned the water off. Sometimes he wished he could hide in the shower forever, but the world waited for…him to do something. Anything that wasn’t languishing around in his steel-glass-and-concrete ivory tower. He might be exiled but he had money and privileges and owed it to the world to do something with them.
He grabbed a towel and pushed the bathroom door open, only to find a complete stranger in the middle of the leftover party debris, looking at him angrily.
“Who are you?” Trystan spluttered as he secured the towel around his waist, hoping he hadn’t just given the man a show, but what kind of security detail would just let a stranger in his penthouse? Then Trystan noticed the taser in the stranger’s hand. “Ah. I see.”
He had to be a Drakovian agent, maybe even an assassin. Some royal snake had clearly decided exile wasn’t enough and Trystan should be dragged back for torture. Unfortunately for them, Trystan refused to go quietly.
He slammed a foot down to kick up a silver serving tray, caught it and deftly swung it in an arc so that the edge hit the agent’s wrist and the knocked the taser across the room.
“Aggh! Hang on, I’m—”
Before he could finish his sentence, Trystan had locked an arm around his neck, holding him firmly against his torso.
“Who sent you?” He snarled. “Vicenzo? Marius? My mother?”
“No one sent me, I sent myself!”
Trystan knew his way around a fight, but so did this stranger. He easily planted his feet and grabbed Trystan’s arm, slamming him into a wall. Trystan’s ears rang…but then he shook his head and adopted a fighting stance. His attacker groaned and launched a tightly controlled punch, but the prince blocked it with ease. They were evenly matched in the fight and ended up grappling around the apartment, through a doorway that led into the bedroom, where eventually Trystan blocked the punch and held it there. Drakovian agents were usually more skilled than that, not that this guy didn’t have training, but he hadn’t employed any of the martial arts Trystan expected. It was looking unlikely that he wanted Trystan dead.
“Well, you’re good, whoever you are,” Trystan said, slightly out of breath and reluctantly impressed. He got a good look at his attacker as he stepped away. He was taller than Trystan and broad-shouldered, dressed in jeans and a brown leather jacket, and gave the aura of someone who wasn’t to be trifled with. If they had met in any other circumstance…Trystan would not have said no to this man.
“I’m a detective.”
“I’ve had several run-ins with law enforcement in my time and they weren’t anything like you…rugged, competent…dare I say, sexy?”
The stranger scoffed. The comment had caught him off guard. “Screw you.” He turned away for a second to pull out his ID and Trystan examined it closely. The man’s picture stared at him coldly. Cameron Rose, Private Detective. Twenty-eight years old.
“Fair enough.” Trystan handed the card back with a smirk. “But you can’t blame me for leaping to conclusions when a strange man barges into my home with a taser.”
***
Trystan was reeling now, and his hangover was long-forgotten. He couldn’t stop thinking about Sonja, tied up by her fists and hanging from the ceiling of the Calloway basement, the gaping hole in her chest where her heart should have been still dripping blood. She had called him for help, and where was he? Getting drunk and being stupid, just like he always was.
Enough was enough. It all stopped right now.
“May I come in with you?” he asked Cameron as he pulled up by the Detective Agency, in a parking space that required a permit he probably didn’t have.
“Why?” The detective hadn’t warmed up to him. In fact, he’d been rather put out at Trystan following him around all day.
“I’d like to see the inside of a detective’s office. But I’d also like a quick word with your manager.”
Realising Cameron wouldn’t give him a choice in the matter, Trystan got out the car and strolled up the steps without waiting for an answer. Cameron spluttered as he rushed after him.
It was a nice office, Trystan decided. A group of relatively small rooms with large windows, aged furniture and swivel chairs at the computer desks. A young man, about their age, gaped at him. He wore glasses and had several piercings.
“You’re…the prince. Trystan Thorne.” Trystan didn’t ask how he knew. “What are you doing here?”
“He’s leaving,” Cameron growled, rounding on Trystan. “You can’t just waltz into a detective agency like you own the place.”
“I won’t be long, I honestly just want to speak with your boss for a minute,” Trystan said calmy. “Who runs the show around here?”
“That would be me, Mafalda Ginovesi,” said a voice and the three of them turned to see a middle-aged woman standing in the doorway, looking at him coldly. “What exactly are you doing here?”
“He’s leaving!!” The detective said again but Trystan ignored him. He stood in the middle of the room looking directly at Mafalda.
“Actually, I believe we find ourselves in a mutually beneficial position. A friend of mine was just murdered and I want to see her killer brought to justice. I need a trustworthy private detective…and perhaps you could use a new client?”
“Not wrong,” The guy with the piercings muttered as his gaze became slightly less judgemental.
“I’m listening,” Mafalda said.
“I have just one condition. I would like to assist Cameron. Actively.”
Cameron spluttered. “You…what?”
“Serious?” The other guy gaped.
“I’m being deadly serious,” Trystan said calmly. He crossed his arms over chest, suddenly exuding more power than he had all day. “I’ve spent the day with Cameron and I’ve seen how capable, intelligent and resourceful he is…I can pay you…what’s a good rate, $100k a day?”
Mafalda choked on the coffee that she had just taken a badly-timed mouthful of. Piercings had almost fallen out of his chair.
“Rose, I just broke the news to Sonya’s mother when you showed up. If this is some kind of joke—”
“I barely know the guy!”
“It’s not a joke,” Trystan said. “I don’t want for money, and I would like to help as much as I can.”
Mafalda looked at Trystan, considering. The detective seemed horrified at the development. Piercings was stuck in the middle, glancing between the two of them apprehensively.
“If you’re serious…then yes, we’ll take your case.”
“What?! Mafalda, c’mon, I work alone—”
“You work for the client, and in this case the client wants to assist.”
“But…he has no experience! I don’t need a civilian following me around all day!”
“I’m a rich civilian, and I know how to rub shoulders in high society,” Trystan pointed out. “The chances are that we’ll be following strings into the circles of the upper class and if you don’t know how to behave with those people, you might as well be signing your own arrest warrant.”
“I’ll take the chance…”
“No, you won’t,” Mafalda warned him. “If you’re going to infiltrate high society, you’ll definitely need Thorne’s assistance. Consider him your unofficial partner.”
She and Cameron glared at each other…then Cameron wilted and slumped into a chair. It was impressive, seeing the tough detective being stared down into submission, a little like a mother with her surly teenager. If Sonya’s corpse wasn’t fresh in his mind, Trystan would have found it amusing.
Victorious, Mafalda stepped back into her office and motioned for Trystan to follow her. “Let’s talk.”
Cameron put his head in hands. There would be no escaping this; the only alternative for him was finding a new detective agency.
Mafalda firmly closed the office door behind her as Trystan lounged in the chair in front of her desk that could have been an antique. Mafalda and Cameron’s qualifications were framed on the walls. The leather armchair was comfortable, the wallpaper had a nice pattern and the tree in the window had just started to turn. The window was open, letting in a breeze.
“You do keep a very nice office,” Trystan complimented.
“Thank you,” Mafalda said as she sat opposite him. “Sorry about today, I hope Cameron didn’t give you too much of a hard time?”
“Oh, a chip on the shoulder is nothing I can’t handle. You’d understand if you knew my family.” Mafalda raised her eyebrows, but Trystan carried on, lowering his voice: “Would I be correct in assuming the detective had…a rough upbringing?”
“Not so much his upbringing, his dad was great,” Mafalda said. “But I’ve known him for a long time, and he’s been through the ringer.” She frowned. “Regardless, it doesn’t give him an excuse to be an asshole, especially not to paying clients. If he says or does anything untoward, let me know immediately.”
“I will. But really, I think we’ll be fine,” Trystan reassured her.
After agreeing and signing a contract with Mafalda, they met back up with Cameron and Piercings who, Mafalda had informed him, was named Luke Watanabe and was a genius with all things tech. A small photo frame was propped on Luke’s desk: he, Cameron and a woman with glasses and very curly hair were laughing together in a bar. A sticky note under the frame read Dear Luke, suck a lemon this Christmas, love Cameron xxx. Trystan wondered what the context was; perhaps the detective did have a sense of humour.
“Well, I’m pleased to announce we will be taking on the Dormer case with Trystan Thorne’s assistance,” Mafalda said. Trystan half-expected the detective to interrupt but he remained silent, apparently knowing when he was beaten. On the other hand, Luke gave him a nod of welcome. “Now, I suggest you all go home and get some rest and I’ll see the three of you tomorrow.”
Cameron stood and left without a backward glance. Trystan hurried after him and caught him on the steps. Annoyance radiated out of him.
“Cameron, please, I just want to find Sonja’s killer.”
“Why? Why does it matter to you?”
“Because she called me for help and I wasn’t there! I let her down in her time of need and…” Trystan hesitated, nowhere near ready to go into the myriad of reasons why he needed to do something like this. “I need to do something good in my life. Please understand…I just need to help fix things. Sonja deserved better.”
Cameron glared at him for what became an uncomfortably long time. Trystan thought he was used to scrutiny but Cameron put him under the microscope.
“Fine.” Cameron said eventually. “Not like I can say no. I’ll see you in the morning.”
He turned to go, and Trystan took another step after him.
“Can I at least drive you home?”
“No, I can walk.”
And he did just that, walking away quickly, his hands in his pockets and his shoulders hunched. Trystan sighed. He hadn’t made the best impression on the detective he was about to work for. He thought about how prickly Cameron was and what Mafalda had said about his past. He hadn’t missed the fact she referred to his father in the past tense, and there was no mention of his mother…
Trystan watched Cameron’s retreating form and wondered if the good detective liked donuts.
Carolina's phone would not stop "bleeping"! But when a friend helps her get to the bottom of it, she and Trystan are in for some startling discoveries about each other.
Book Boop: Crimes of Passion (post Book 2)
Pairing: Trystan Thorne x Carolina Rose (F!MC)
Characters: Luke Watanabe
Summary: See above
Rating: Teen
Words: 2.150
A/N: All right, so I may have been a total party-pooper with the "boops," but that got me thinking how my OTPs would have handled them... and that led me here! I hope you enjoy it! Participating in @choicesaprilchallenge24 - prompt - "You're not going to believe what I just found."
*Bleep*
*Bleep*
*Bleep*
The utter silence of the Ginovesi Detective Agency’s offices was rattled each time Carolina’s phone “bleeped.” Trystan eyed the phone warily, glancing between it and Carolina every time it went off. For a woman who demanded complete silence when they were focusing on a case, she was doing her best to ignore it, but Trystan knew it was only a matter of time...
“¡Ay, Dios mío!” she cried out... and there it was. “¿Qué carajo es esto?”
Taking the phone in hand, she frantically tapped away at it, but the bleeps kept pouring in, and with each new arrival, Trystan watched as his girlfriend became more unhinged. “¿Qué es esta mierda?”
That’s when Luke entered the mix. Slinking into the office with his hands nonchalantly stuffed in his pockets, he slouched into a chair with a half smile.
“Oh no. I heard nothing but Spanish coming out of you from way down the hall. This can’t be good.”
“It’s not!” Carolina spat as Trystan debated whether her frustration was utterly adorable or good cause for him to evacuate the office as quickly as possible. “I can’t get this fucking thing to stop bleeping!”
There were many things Trystan could have said or done, but as was often the case for the former prince, he reclined in his chair and chose chaos.
“It seems one of her former suitors isn’t taking the hint and won’t let go easily,” he smirked. “While I may no longer be a monarch, I still have some pull. One phone call to Lydea, my love, and I will have that man relieved of his testicles. Give me a name and number,” he winked. “I assure you, the bleeps will stop within the hour.”
Carolina glared at him with anger in her eyes, but despite her desire to remain cross, his stupid grin managed to do her in.
“Bold of you to assume it’s a he, your highness,” she derided. “There is a far greater likelihood that it would be a she. So, someone will be deprived the pleasure of performing an orchiectomy today.”
“An orchiectomy...” Luke queried, pulling up Google on his phone, but Trystan pushed it aside.
“Spare yourself the pain, man. It’s the art of relieving someone of their balls.”
“Ouch!” Luke shuddered. “Of course, I can see how the inability to do that would cause some Drakovian guard to fall into a deep depression, but still... ouch."
Trystan turned back to Carolina with a shrug. “It’s OK, love. They can remove body parts from women as well.”
“That’s so good to know,” she laughed. “But I’m afraid this isn’t as salacious as a spurned lover trying to get me to bend to their will.”
“Then what is it?” Trystan asked. “Your phone’s been going off all day, and I’ve never heard that notification tone before.”
“It’s,” she began, stopping herself as four curious eyes stared at her, eager for a response. “It’s... nothing. I’ll just turn the sound off my phone.”
“GASP!” Luke mocked. “During work hours! When you could potentially miss... something?”
It would have ended there for Luke, but Trystan wasn't done. Realizing something was amiss, he closely watched his love, not about to let her off the hook.
“Why don’t you just turn notifications off? What’s so embarrassing? Is it... Facebook?” he chuckled.
Carolina was an animal entrapped in a corner, desperate for an escape, but when it became clear that none existed, she surrendered. Burying her face into her hands with a languid groan... she confessed.
“I freaking wish! It’s .... worse!”
“Worse than Facebook?” Luke said with feigned horror. “What is it? Your old OKCupid app?”
“No!” Carolina said, throwing a pencil his way.
“Your old FarmersOnly account!!!”
“What?” Trystan snickered.
“I didn’t have a FarmersOnly account! Well, I did... but it was just a joke to frighten Uncle Tommy! Besides, I deleted that long ago!”
Trystan turned to Luke in confusion. “What... what’s FarmersOnly?”
“That’s unimportant, “Carolina interrupted. “It’s... it’s my Tumblr. I haven’t used it for longer than I can remember; I didn't even know it was still on my phone. But I’ve gotten like seven hundred notifications today, and I have no idea why!”
“So,” Luke shrugged. “Turn the notifications off.”
“I can’t! I forgot my password... and before you say it, I don’t remember what e-mail I created the account with. So I can’t reset it.”
“So,” Luke shrugged again. “Just delete the app! Problem solved.”
“But the detective in me needs to figure this out," she sighed. "Who knows why this is happening? When I go home tonight, I’ll try to remember what e-mail accounts I had circa 2016. Maybe I can figure it out.”
“It was probably something like myglitteringlittlenyyankeepony@ yahoo.com or something like that,” Luke laughed.
“Dear Lord,” Trystan groused. "Both sound dreadful, but can we circle back to something potentially even more embarrassing? You had a Tumblr account?”
“Oh, shut up!” Carolina defended. “It was 2016! All the cool kids had a Tumblr account!”
“I didn’t,” Luke announced.
“I said cool,” Carolina retorted. Still, Trystan was undeterred.
“What on earth did you use your Tumblr account for? Were you in a fandom?”
He had intended to let it go, but when Carolina’s cheeks turned brighter than any apple he ever witnessed in a Cordonian orchard, he knew the quest was just beginning. Raising a brow in wicked delight, he teased. “Yesssss....”
“I was into Divergent,” she said, raising her hands. “Big fan... The Hunger Games, too.”
“All right,” Trystan nodded with a smile. “I can see that....”
But now it was Luke’s turn to incite, “Really? Because I could have sworn you once told me you used to write fanfiction for Princess Di.....”
“Obviously, you’re mistaken!” Carolina shouted. “Katniss! Katniss x Peeta, my OTP! That’s why I was on Tumblr!”
“Wait,” Trystan interrupted. “Princess Di? Were you into Princess Diana?”
“No,” Carolina spat. “Luke is just losing his mind, that’s all!”
“Oh, come now, princess,” Luke chided. “Is this the foundation you want to build your relationship on? A throne of lies?”
“No,” Trystan smiled gleefully. “Thrones of lies are bad. Very bad."
“I believe they are,” Luke chuckled. "I'm sorry, Carolina. It’s confession time.”
Trystan slunk over to Carolina’s side, playfully nudging her with his shoulder. “Time’s up, dear. Tell me the truth, or I’ll have to employ ancient Drakovian torture measures to get you to speak!"
“Yeah! And not the kinky ones you’re into!” Luke grinned.
“Fine,” Carolina exhaled with disgust, her voice barely a whisper. “I was very into... The Princess Diaries."
Trystan’s lips began to curl, the dimple in his cheek becoming more pronounced. “I’m sorry... what?”
“The Princess Diaries! OK!! I used to love The Princess Diaries!”
“In 2016!” Luke scoffed. “Weren’t those movies popular in like... 2004?”
"So?! I was a little behind the times. I was a nerd... so sue me! My Tumblr was all about The Princess Diaries... are you satisfied now?” She asked, hiding her face in shame.
Trystan rubbed his chin in delight as he allowed Carolina to sweat it out, thinking of the best way to torture his prey.
“The Princess Diaries! This all makes so much sense now!”
“What?” Luke wondered aloud. “That she always had a soft spot for monarchy scum?”
“Well, yes,” Trystan responded. “ But, seriously... how long did you have these fantasies about being a long-lost princess, my dear?”
“What! Never! I’m a Boricua from the Bronx! A freaking badass, bisexual Boricua from the Bronx! Being a princess was nothing I aspired to!”
“Yet you were writing Princess Diaries fanfic?” Trystan tsked. “Then... you relentlessly pursued me.”
Horrified, she slammed her hand on the desk. “I DID NOT!!! You know I didn’t!”
“I’m not sure what to believe anymore, Carolina. Right now, I’m feeling sort of cheap and used.”
Luke howled with laughter. “In fairness, there’s nothing cheap about you, Trystan. Used? Sure, I can see that. But cheap? No way.”
“Thank you, Luke,” Trystan acknowledged.
“Don’t mention it.”
But Carolina wasn't smiling. “I never had some monarchy fetish! I just liked the stupid movie! It was escapism for me, OK? But you know damn well you being a royal was a detriment to me, not a bonus! I wasn’t all, ‘Oh, now I need to land this guy!’ you know that!”
“I can't be sure anymore. I think I have to have this investigated to make sure your intentions with me are pure!”
“You know that’s not a bad idea,” Luke nodded as he typed away on his laptop. “I do know of a good agency that could help you.”
“LUKE!” Carolina yelled, so flustered that she hadn’t noticed her phone stopped bleeping several minutes before.
“Relax... princess...” Luke teased. “I just hacked into your Tumblr. The bleeping should stop now.
“But... how?” She asked, immediately catching his sarcastic stare. “Yeah, don’t bother answering that.”
Trystan stood over her shoulder as she opened the app. “700 notifications? Seriously, why the hell did I get all these notifications today?”
“It looks like they were having some kind of a “boop” thing for April Fools? I guess it’s like the old Facebook poke? Everyone seems to be sending boops.”
“But why?” Carolina asked, dumbfounded. "Don't people have better things to do with their time?"
“Look,” Luke chirped. “I'm capable of doing a great many things, but making sense out of anything that happens on Tumblr.... that’s asking too much...even of me.”
“True,” Carolina mumbled.
“He makes sense,” Trystan nodded in agreement. “Now, let’s read some of your old fanfic.”
“Oh, hell no!” Carolina insisted. “There’s no way!”
“Please?” Trystan begged, with puppy-dog eyes in full effect.
“All right, fine! But only on one condition!”
“Name it!”
“You show me your old Tumblr... and don’t lie and tell me you didn’t have one. We both know you did.”
“Sorry, my love,” Trystan shrugged. “But I didn’t.”
The couple turned to Luke when he sighed again. “Do you really want to start this relationship sitting on a throne of lies, Trystan? Or should I call you PlayfulPrince315. Dude! Using your actual birthday? I know you were a tween then, but still, you should have known better!”
“Playful... Prince?” Carolina beamed. “OK, Mr. Playful, what were you doing on Tumblr?”
“Oh, that’s easy,” he winked. “I was searching for beautiful want-to-be princesses from the Bronx.”
“Nah,” Luke laughed. “Minecraft. He was into Minecraft.”
“Really?” Trystan asked, dragging a hand down his face.
“Hey, I outed Carolina, and she’s my best friend. You knew you weren’t safe.”
“Minecraft?” Carolina said with mock disgust. “Tell me it wasn’t Minecraft porn... please?”
“WHAT?" Trystan asked in shock. "Was that even a thing?”
“Sadly, it was,” Carolina laughed. “I’m sorry, but I need to know if you were into that. I don’t care how long ago it was; I am not marrying any man who once got off to Minecraft porn.”
A devilish grin slowly spread on Trystan’s face as he stepped confidently toward Carolina.
“Marry... you say?” His grin miraculously grew wider. “Have you been thinking about marrying me, Carolina?”
“I... uh, I...” she couldn't have been more grateful for Luke jumping out of his seat.
“Well, I think I’ll leave you two alone. You can handle this conversation without me.”
He headed toward the door, but not before handing Trystan a scrap of paper. “Here, this is your Tumblr password, Playful Prince. You two can figure out your weird pasts alone.”
“Oh, like you didn’t have weird things in your past!” Carolina yelled after him.
“At least they aren't archived for prosperity on Tumblr,” Luke grinned. “And I’m relieved to say it doesn’t look like Ruby has to deal with that, either. But I can’t wait to tell her about the two of yours.”
Luke whistled as he exited, turning one more time before shutting the door. “Oh, and Playful one? You got 200 fewer boops than Carolina... and you’re royalty, man? Embarrassing! Just... embarrassing! I don't think she should consider marrying you!"
Trystan turned to his blushing girlfriend. "So, back to that marrying thing.... how often does that cross your mind?"
"Uh, you know what," she said, reaching up for a soft but passionate kiss. "Why don't I tell you all about FarmersOnly instead."
"Uninterested," he beamed.
"All right," she said, pulling out her phone. "Then let's say I allow you to read 3,500 words of angst I wrote about Princess Mia and Prince Harry circa 2016?"
Trystan's eyes lit up. "Seriously?"
"Here," she said, handing him her phone. "Go through my whole masterlist. By the time you're done... you'll forget anything else."
Trystan slunk back into the chair, tossing his feet on the desk for comfort. "Don't count on it," he winked. "Don't count on that... at all."
a deeper look into enid's ascent to partnership at park & davis (below the cut):
westview medical center (wmc), one of nyc's top hospitals, once faced threat of bankruptcy after being hit with a class action lawsuit. the cause? a major data breach affecting > 350,000 current and former patients. names, addresses, ssn's, medical records- all and more potentially compromised by an unknown hacker.
a case of this magnitude would usually be delegated to a higher ranking attorney, and it was. donna may was originally appointed lead for wmc's legal team. enid's initial role on the team was to be donna's subordinate- tasked with handling research, interviews, etc. the goal: absolve wmc of any fault regarding the breach.
one of enid's sources: ginovesi private detective agency. more specifically, her connection to cameron rose, childhood friend (they also briefly dated in high school) and one hell of a private investigator. their combined efforts unveiled the identity of wmc's hacker- and who hired them. xavier m. dupont, president of wmc, was the main culprit of the breach. surveillance footage/phone records pin dupont for hiring the ever-illusive hacker, kingpin, to scrape hospital records.
dupont's involvement in the breach posed a significant complication for his legal team at park & davis. protect their client's interests or reveal an imperative truth?
it was enid who suggested the team's legal strategy to have the wmc board hold an emergency meeting to vote dupont out of his position, effectively eliminating him as their client while maintaining the interests of wmc. enid's plan (along with the fact that donna may was simultaneously dealing with a nasty divorce at the time of the trial) allowed her to take on the role as lead attorney for wmc.
the compromised data was found still encrypted with no signs of being sold to a third-party. under oath, dupont confessed to his involvement, revealing the data was shared only to "high ranking staff members in the know." his group sought patients' insurance information to "skim off the top of their insurance claims." needless to say, dupont agreed to out all involved parties in exchange for a more lenient sentence.
what was supposed to be millions of dollars worth of settlement money turned into a slap on the wrist coupled with a one-time penalty fee. all courtesy of enid's legal prowess in court. this win landed park & davis several new and lucrative contracts and it gave enid a well-earned promotion.
ginovesi agency was left to hand over any evidence found in regards to dupont's insurance fraud scheme to the nypd. cameron was (unfortunately) tasked to facilitate this exchange. while logging document #too-many-to-count, two very familiar names caught her eye: dr. arnel and dang mendoza. enid's parents.
records on records of both of them filing fraudulent claims on behalf of their patients for years. it was enough to get their licensed revoked. face jailtime, even.
'enid needs to know,' cameron thought. she couldn't undo the damage, but at the very least she could save her friend from being utterly blindsided.
enid took the news in stride- well as much as a person who just found out her parents are criminals could, anyways. she and cameron got drunk that night, commiserating with spirits was enough to lift theirs back from rock bottom.
if only cameron knew how her kindness would ultimately backfire.
weeks passed before she realized what enid had done- when the times listed all the now disgraced doctors from wmc, including all but two people.
enid remains tight-lipped about the whole ordeal to this day. who she paid off- what happened to all that incriminating evidence- not a word of it has ever been repeated out loud. what cameron has on her is circumstantial at best. at least that's what she tells herself.
"what if it were your parents, cam? if you still could, wouldn't you want to do everything in your power to protect them?"
enid's words twist into cameron's chest like a knife. she always knew how to hit her where it hurts. which is why she afforded enid one final kindness: to turn a blind-eye.
---
bonus for anyone who made it this far:
dr. arnel and dang mendoza, ✨recently retired✨
art credits: dossier by @/choicesbookclub | picrew (enid) | picrew (enid's parents)
Baby HOW did you not know when MC and Trystan completely lack subtly to the point they might as well have painted 'RoseXThorne_4ever' on their foreheads
