Chapter 2 - THE MAN WHO DIDN'T THREATEN ME
At midnight, a black sedan waited outside Bellamy House.
The driver stood beneath an umbrella.
"Miss Bennett?"
I almost kept walking.
My father needed his medication. My rent was overdue. I had seventy-eight dollars in checking and a career that had been buried under someone else's lies.
I couldn't afford another disaster.
But I also couldn't forget the missing accountant.
"Where are we going?" I asked.
"Mr. Vale's office."
"Does he know I'm coming?"
The driver opened the door.
"He said you would decide."
That bothered me more than a threat would have.
Adrian Vale had offered me a choice, and somehow he'd known exactly which one I would make.
His office occupied the top floor of an old industrial building overlooking the Chicago River.
There were no gold statues, no ridiculous throne-like chairs, no armed men displaying weapons for effect.
Just polished concrete, bookshelves, city lights, and a wall of framed architectural drawings.
Adrian stood by the window.
"You came."
"I haven't agreed to anything."
"Good."
He indicated a chair.
"People who agree too quickly usually want something."
I remained standing.
"Where is the missing accountant?"
His expression tightened.
"That's what I intend to find out."
"Name?"
"Oliver Grant."
I knew the name.
Oliver had worked in forensic compliance before leaving for a private firm. He was brilliant, awkward, and incapable of ignoring suspicious transactions.
"Oliver Grant has a wife," I said.
"And a seven-year-old daughter."
I stared at Adrian.
"How do you know?"
"Because I've been paying their mortgage since he vanished."
The answer unsettled me.
"Why?"
"Because he disappeared while working for my company."
"That doesn't sound like the usual mafia business model."
His mouth twitched.
"Neither does correcting a stranger's ledger."
He placed a folder on the desk.
Inside were payroll reports, freight invoices, vendor records, and a confidentiality agreement.
I read the agreement carefully.
"No restrictions on reporting criminal activity?"
"None."
"No requirement to surrender my findings?"
"No."
"Independent legal representation?"
"I'll pay for it. You choose the attorney."
I looked up.
"Why would you give me that much freedom?"
"Because whoever is doing this already controls too much."
I opened the financial reports.
Within twenty minutes, I found another discrepancy.
Then another.
Then a pattern.
Every suspicious charge originated from one of four companies, each registered in a different state.
One was supposedly a fuel supplier.
Another handled equipment leasing.
The third provided security services.
The fourth had no meaningful business activity.
All four shared the same administrative contact.
My blood went cold.
I knew the name.
Daniel Mercer.
My former supervisor.
The man who destroyed my career.
Adrian noticed my expression.
"What is it?"
I pushed the document toward him.
"Your thief and the man who ruined my life may be the same person."
He studied the name.
"Daniel Mercer."
"Yes."
"Raymond recommended him."
The room became very quiet.
I looked at Adrian.
"Then you don't have one problem."
"What do I have?"
I tapped Raymond Keller's signature.
"A conspiracy."
Adrian reached for his phone.
I caught his wrist before I could reconsider.
"Don't."
His gaze dropped to my hand.
"Why?"
"Because if Raymond knows we're investigating, he'll destroy everything."
Adrian considered that.
Then he slowly set the phone down.
"All right."
I released him.
He sat opposite me.
"What do you need?"
"Complete accounting access. Historical records. Vendor contracts. Payment approvals. And nobody can know I'm investigating."
"Done."
"Also, I won't work for you unless I can walk away whenever I want."
"You can."
"And you don't get to frighten my father."
His expression hardened.
"I don't threaten families, Claire."
Something in his voice made me believe him.
Not trust him.
Not yet.
But believe that particular statement.
At three in the morning, I finally stood to leave.
Adrian handed me a business card.
There was no title beneath his name.
Only a number.
"If something happens, call me."
I almost laughed.
"Something is already happening."
He held my gaze.
"Then call before it gets worse."
Outside, the rain had stopped.
As the driver took me home, I opened my phone and searched Oliver Grant's disappearance.
There were three local news articles.
One photograph showed his wife holding their daughter.
Another showed Oliver leaving his office on the last night anyone had seen him.
Behind him stood a familiar silver-haired man.
Raymond Keller.
And beside Raymond was someone I recognized even faster.
May you like
My former fiancé.
Nathan Cross.
