Chapter 7 - Caught in the Archive
Daniel spun around at the sound of my heels clicking against the linoleum, dropping a thick manila folder that spilled financial statements all over the dusty floor.
His face was slick with sweat, his tie completely undone, and his eyes wild with the desperate panic of a cornered animal.
“Claire,” he breathed, stepping backward until his back hit a row of metal filing cabinets. “What—what are you doing down here?”
“Recovering what you stole, Daniel,” I said, walking slowly down the narrow aisle between the shelves, my eyes locked on his. “Using my personal trust portfolio as a private loan guarantee? Forging my digital signature on the Meridian Trust agreement? Did you really think I wouldn't audit the subsidiary holdings once the corporate accounts were frozen?”
Daniel swallowed hard, trying to force a weak, pathetic smile that didn't reach his terrified eyes. “Look, Claire, it was a temporary measure. The real estate market in Westchester was supposed to turn around last quarter, and I needed liquidity to finalize the European expansion before Vanessa—well, before everything went south. It was just a formality. The loan gets cleared out the moment we sell the commercial portfolio.”
“The loan defaults at midnight,” I corrected, stopping just three feet away from him. “And Meridian Trust isn't a real estate firm, Daniel. It’s a predatory offshore shell company run by men who specialize in asset stripping. You didn't just gamble; you handed them the keys to my father’s entire legacy.”
“I had to do something!” Daniel snapped, his veneer of corporate charm finally cracking entirely as anger flashed across his features. “Your father’s antiquated bylaws tied my hands for years! I built this company's reputation while you sat in an ivory tower collecting dividends! I deserved a stake that actually matched my value!”
“You deserved a prison cell,” I said evenly.
I reached out, grabbed the leather briefcase sitting on the metal shelf beside him, and flipped it open. Inside sat the original physical contracts bearing my forged signature, alongside several flash drives containing encrypted financial transfers.
Daniel lunged forward, trying to snatch the briefcase back. “Give me that! You can’t take those—they’re legal documents!”
Before his fingers could brush the leather, I stepped inside his guard, brought the heavy edge of the briefcase up hard against his chest, and shoved him backward into the metal filing cabinet with a sharp clang.
He groaned, doubling over, gasping for breath.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket, dialed Thomas Vance’s direct line, and pressed it to my ear as I clutched the briefcase tightly in my other hand.
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“Thomas,” I said, looking down at Daniel, who was sliding down the metal cabinet onto the floor. “Call the financial crimes bureau and freeze the Meridian Trust routing numbers. We have the physical forgery evidence.”
Before Thomas could answer from the other end of the line, the archive room lights flickered violently twice and went completely black, plunging us into total darkness.
