Chapter 4 - The Secret Audit and the Shadows in the Ledger
Gerald Pike forced a tight, brittle smile, trying to mask the sudden panic flickering behind his calculating eyes.
"Marcus, you're letting your illness cloud your judgment," Gerald said, adjusting his silk tie with a hand that slightly trembled. "I’m looking out for the company. I’m looking out for you. If the media finds out a random maid and her child have unrestricted access to your bedroom, the stock will plummet twenty points before the bell rings. I'm just trying to protect our billions."
"Our billions?" Marcus echoed, the corners of his mouth curling into a chilling, humorless smirk. "Last time I checked, Gerald, the door of my office—and my bank account—only opened because I allowed it to."
"Fine. Do whatever emotional charity work you want," Gerald sneered, shooting a venomous glare at Rosa, who was still clutching her apron in sheer terror. "But don't say I didn't warn you when she cleans out your safe."
With a sharp pivot of his heel, Gerald stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the heavy mahogany doors behind him so hard the crystal chandelier rattled overhead.
The room fell back into a heavy, suffocating silence.
Lily stirred slightly, letting out a soft sigh, her tiny fingers curling tighter into Marcus’s silk shirt. Marcus looked down at her, his face softening in a way that defied every headline ever written about him.
He slowly lifted his right arm—an action that cost him a sharp spike of nerve pain—and awkwardly, gently, rested his palm against the back of the little girl's head.
"You can stop shaking, Rosa," Marcus said without looking up.
Rosa wiped her face with the hem of her apron, her voice trembling. "Mr. Hail, I am so sorry. I'll pack my things. I'll leave right now. Just... please don't call the police. I have nowhere else to go."
"You aren't going anywhere," Marcus said, his voice dropping into a tone that brooked no argument. He looked up at her, his dark eyes sharp and analytical once more. "Rosa. How long have you worked in this house?"
"Six months, sir."
"And how much does Mrs. Callaway pay you?"
Rosa hesitated, her cheeks burning with shame. "Minimum wage, sir. Twelve dollars an hour."
Marcus let out a dry, humorless laugh. "Twelve dollars an hour to clean a fifty-thousand-square-foot mausoleum while corporate vipers like Gerald Pike steal millions behind my back." He paused, his gaze hardening. "Open the top drawer of the mahogany desk over there."
Confused and terrified, Rosa walked across the plush carpet and pulled open the heavy drawer. Inside lay a thick, leather-bound ledger and a sleek, secure tablet.
"Bring it here," Marcus instructed.
Rosa carried the tablet to the edge of the bed. Marcus used his thumb to unlock the encrypted screen, swiping through a series of financial documents, wire transfers, and internal audit reports that his private forensic accountant had been secretly compiling for the past three months.
Rosa glanced at the screen, her eyes widening in disbelief as she saw rows of staggering numbers—millions of dollars siphoned out of Hail Real Estate subsidiaries through shell companies registered in the Cayman Islands.
"What... what is this?" Rosa whispered.
"This is how Gerald Pike plans to retire next year," Marcus said coldly, his jaw clenched. "He thinks because my legs don't work, my mind has stopped working too. He’s been systematically looting the company accounts, shifting debt onto our public holdings, and preparing a hostile takeover to declare me mentally incompetent."
Rosa stared at the billionaire, horror dawning on her. "If he does that... what happens to everyone? To the employees?"
"Bankruptcy. Liquidation. Thousands of people out of work," Marcus said grimly. Then, his gaze locked onto Rosa’s dark, terrified eyes. "And he needed me isolated. Completely alone. No family. No outside influence. No witnesses who could see through his charming corporate mask."
Marcus shifted slightly, adjusting Lily so she rested more comfortably against his chest.
"He couldn't get rid of my mother because she's in Arizona," Marcus continued, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. "He couldn't get rid of my nurses because they report to the medical board. But a cleaning woman with a sick toddler? To Gerald, you were invisible. A ghost he could easily frame, fire, or destroy if you ever stumbled onto his paper trail."
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Rosa felt the blood rush in her ears. "He... he wanted me out because he knew I cleaned the East Wing offices late at night. He must have dropped something."
Marcus nodded slowly. "Precisely. Which means, Rosa... you and your little girl are in far more danger than you realize."
