Chapter 2 - The Red Ink
The top floor of Moretti Tower offered a panoramic view of the Chicago skyline, but Khloe couldn't tear her eyes away from the dual monitors glowing on her massive mahogany desk.
For the past forty-eight hours, she had lived inside a world of encrypted spreadsheets, shell corporations, and offshore accounts. Gabriel had given her complete access—a level of trust that defied every rational law of the criminal underworld. But the more she dug into the numbers, the colder her hands became.
The door to her glass-walled office opened without a knock. Gabriel stepped inside, carrying two cups of black coffee. He set one down beside her keyboard without asking.
"You haven't slept," he noted, leaning back against the edge of her desk. He wore a charcoal shirt with the top button undone, the scar over his eyebrow catching the dim light of the evening storm rolling in over Lake Michigan.
"Neither have your ledgers," Khloe replied, her voice steady despite the exhaustion clawing at her mind. She spun her monitor around to face him. "Look at this subsidiary—Vanguard Logistics. Three months ago, right before Arthur Pendleton disappeared, forty million dollars was siphoned out through a web of legitimate-looking consulting fees."
Gabriel didn't look surprised. He looked tired. "And who authorized the transfer?"
"That's just it," Khloe said, tapping the screen with a manicured fingernail. "Technically, the authorization came from Pendleton's own digital signature. But the routing numbers don't lead to his personal accounts. They lead to a domestic trust managed by a firm called Sterling & Vance."
Gabriel's jaw tightened. The air in the room suddenly grew heavy. "Sterling & Vance," he repeated quietly, tasting the name like poison.
"You knew," Khloe said, spinning the monitor back and looking up at him. "You knew the money didn't vanish into thin air. You knew Pendleton didn't just run off with the cash. Someone inside your own organization—or someone very close to you—framed you for his disappearance."
Gabriel looked down at her, his stormy eyes softening just a fraction, replaced by an expression of heavy calculation. "In my world, Chloe, everyone is looking for a weapon to use against me. But finding someone smart enough to trace the paper trail in forty-eight hours? That's rare." He reached out, his warm fingers brushing a stray lock of hair away from her cheek, sending a sudden tremor through her body. "Most people run from me. You're trying to solve my murder."
"I'm not trying to solve a murder," Khloe retorted, though she didn't pull away from his touch. "I'm trying to balance an equation that doesn't add up. And right now, the numbers are pointing straight to your chief legal counsel, Julian Vance."
May you like
Gabriel's hand dropped away, and a dark, dangerous smile touched his lips. "Julian is having dinner downstairs tonight," Gabriel murmured. "Care to join me for a chat?"
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