Chapter 3 - The Ledger and the Mask
Marcus Vance.
The name echoed in the cavernous foyer like the strike of a hammer on an anvil. Marcus was Vincent’s right-hand man, the polished, silver-haired corporate wizard who managed the day-to-day operations of Hayes Global Enterprises, the man Vincent trusted second only to himself.
"That's impossible," I blurted out before I could stop myself.
Both Vincent and his aide turned their attention back to me. Vincent’s gray eyes narrowed slightly. "Why do you say that, Claire?"
"Because," I said, my heart pounding against my ribs as the pieces began to assemble in my head. "Marcus Vance doesn't work late. Everyone knows that. But three weeks ago, on a Tuesday night, I was cleaning the executive suite on the forty-second floor. The entire floor was supposed to be empty. But Marcus’s office light was on."
Vincent stepped closer, his full attention locked onto me. "Go on."
"I knocked before entering, like I always do," I continued, remembering the chill of that empty corridor. "When he didn't answer, I pushed the door open to empty the trash. He was standing by his shredder, feeding page after page of blue-tinted paper into it. When he saw me, he jumped like he’d been electrocuted. He told me to get out and never enter his office without explicit permission again."
"Blue paper," Vincent muttered, his jaw tightening so hard a muscle twitched in his cheek. "That's the color code for the offshore logistics ledger."
"He was hiding something big," I whispered. "And if Luke was working with him... then the elevator sabotage wasn't just an assassination attempt. It was a cover-up for a financial audit."
Vincent stared at me for a long, silent moment. The initial impression I had of him—a cold, ruthless mob boss who ruled Chicago with an iron fist—fractured completely, revealing something far more dangerous: a betrayed man whose empire was rotting from the inside out.
"You've got a sharper eye than I gave you credit for, Claire," Vincent said, his voice dangerously low. "Marcus has been pushing for a corporate restructuring for six months—pushing me to liquidate our shipping ports to foreign buyers. I refused. If he's skimming from the syndicate accounts, he needed me dead to push the sale through."
"And you need proof," I realized, the terror receding just enough to let my survival instincts take over. "You can't just accuse your CFO without evidence, or your entire board will tear you apart."
"Which brings us back to you," Vincent said, turning slightly to his aide. "Find out where Marcus is tonight. And pull every digital log from the forty-second floor for the past month."
"Boss," the aide interjected, glancing nervously at me. "If Miss Hayes was on that floor, and Marcus knows she saw him—"
May you like
"Marcus doesn't know she remembers," Vincent interrupted, cutting him off with a wave of his hand. He looked back down at me, his expression softening into an intense, protective focus that sent a shiver down my spine. "Which means right now, Claire is the only person in Chicago who can help me crack this open."
---
