Chapter 6 - THE MIDNIGHT AUDITThe clock on the boardroom wall ticked past midnight.
The main floor of the Hale Tower was pitch black, save for the pale glow of a single laptop screen illuminating the forty-second-floor executive conference room.
Victor Raines sat at the head of the massive mahogany table, loosening his tie. His laptop was open, syncing files to an encrypted external hard drive. Everything was falling into place. The board meeting was in less than forty-eight hours. Once he pinned the financial irregularities on the missing junior accountant—Nora Bennett—and leaked the forged documents to the DA, Dominic Hale’s empire would fracture under federal investigation. And Victor would walk away with forty million dollars tucked safely offshore.
He clicked the final folder. Transfer_Complete.
"Impressive work, Victor," a voice echoed from the shadows near the double doors.
Victor jumped, nearly knocking his coffee cup over. He spun around in his executive leather chair.
Stepping out from the pool of darkness was Dominic Hale. He wasn't wearing a jacket. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, revealing the muscular forearms of a man who built his empire with his bare hands before he ever touched a ledger.
And standing right behind him, leaning slightly against the doorframe with a white sling on her arm and fire in her eyes, was Nora Bennett.
Victor’s face went completely pale, his sophisticated veneer cracking down the center.
"Dominic," Victor stammered, forcing a shaky laugh as he slammed his laptop lid shut. "What—what are you doing here? And what is she doing here? I thought she was in the hospital."
"She was," Dominic said smoothly, walking slowly toward the head of the table. "Thanks to an unfortunate accident involving a surgically severed brake line. Nasty business, car accidents. Makes a man think about who has access to the garage."
Victor swallowed hard, his throat dry. "I don't know what you're implying, Dom. Are you blaming me for an interstate car crash?"
"I'm not implying anything, Victor," Dominic said softly, stopping just three feet away from him. He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out a sleek black flash drive—the exact one Nora had given him earlier that day. "I'm stating facts. Double-entry facts. Ashford Strategic Partners. Two point six million diverted. Plus another five hundred thousand transferred thirty minutes ago."
Victor’s eyes widened in sheer terror. He looked past Dominic to Nora, his expression twisting from panic into venomous hatred. "You bitch," he hissed. "You nosy little accountant. You should have stayed in your lane."
"My lane was balancing the books," Nora said, pushing off the doorframe and walking steadily into the light, her voice ringing clear and strong through the empty boardroom. "Your lane was stealing from a man who trusts loyalty above all else. Big mistake, Victor."
Victor suddenly lunged for his briefcase lying beside his chair, his hand diving inside toward a heavy, concealed steel-plated casing.
He didn't even make it halfway.
Before Victor’s fingers could wrap around the handle, a heavy shadow detached itself from the corner of the room. Nathan moved with blinding, terrifying speed, grabbing Victor by the collar of his expensive shirt and slamming him down onto the polished mahogany table with a sickening thud.
The laptop slid off the edge, crashing onto the carpet.
Victor groaned, pinned flat beneath Nathan’s iron grip, gasping for air.
May you like
Dominic didn't even flinch. He leaned down, resting both hands on the table inches from Victor’s terrified face, his gray eyes burning with cold fury.
"You had twelve years, Victor," Dominic whispered, his voice like ice sliding over glass. "And you traded it all for numbers on a screen."
