Chapter 4
Eight million dollars.
I repeated the amount silently while David explained what had happened.
The transfer had been scheduled for execution early the following morning.
The destination was an account belonging to a company called Northstar Strategic Holdings.
I had never heard of it.
David had stopped the payment because the authorization pattern looked unusual.
It had been initiated after normal business hours from a device that wasn't part of our approved financial network.
The system showed my credentials.
But I hadn't approved anything.
"Freeze it," I said.
"Already done."
"Preserve every log."
"Yes."
"And don't discuss this with anyone outside the finance team and our attorneys."
David hesitated.
"Marcus, there's something else."
I closed my eyes.
"What?"
"Derek accessed the executive floor yesterday."
I stared at the phone.
"Yesterday?"
"Yes."
I was at my wedding.
Derek had told me he needed to oversee security at the reception.
Instead, he had apparently entered my company's headquarters.
"Why wasn't I notified?"
David sounded embarrassed.
"He had authorization as security director."
I felt sick.
I had given Derek that authority.
I had trusted him to protect my business.
Now he was connected to my mother's disappearance and a suspicious eight-million-dollar transfer.
I ended the call and looked toward Detective Brooks.
She had heard enough to understand.
"Please send us the information through your attorney," she said.
I nodded.
Mom sat quietly on the couch.
Her face looked exhausted.
For the first time that evening, I realized how much she had endured just to return home.
I sat beside her.
"Mom, you need to rest."
She shook her head.
"Not until I know you're safe."
I took her hand.
"You've already done more than enough."
Her eyes filled.
"Marcus, I was afraid they would hurt you."
I swallowed.
I didn't ask her to explain.
Not yet.
There were too many possibilities.
Too many unanswered questions.
The next morning, my attorney, Rebecca Grant, arrived at the mansion.
Rebecca was forty-two, brilliant, and one of the few people in my professional life who had never been impressed by my money.
She had represented my company for six years.
When I explained the situation, she didn't waste time.
She organized a meeting with David, the bank's fraud department, and an independent cybersecurity specialist.
I remained beside Mom until her nurse arrived.
Then I joined the call.
David shared the transfer records.
The attempted payment had been authorized through an account linked to my executive credentials.
But the access came from a device registered to our corporate security department.
Rebecca looked at me.
"Derek?"
I nodded.
"That appears possible."
The specialist explained that someone had likely obtained my credentials or an authenticated session.
We couldn't assume exactly how.
But the company needed to revoke compromised access, preserve logs, and review every authorization connected to the security department.
I agreed immediately.
By noon, Derek's access had been disabled.
His company devices were secured for investigation through appropriate procedures.
Additional controls were placed on large transfers.
David also discovered something disturbing.
Several smaller payments had already been processed over the previous six months.
They appeared to involve vendors we didn't recognize.
The total exceeded one million dollars.
I stared at the screen.
"How did we miss that?"
David looked devastated.
"The payments were divided among project expense accounts. Each appeared to be within an established spending limit."
Rebecca leaned forward.
"Who approved the vendor accounts?"
David checked the records.
His expression changed.
"An employee named Olivia Reed."
I knew Olivia.
She had worked in procurement for three years.
She was competent, quiet, and rarely attracted attention.
Vanessa had introduced her to our human resources director.
At the time, I thought nothing of it.
Now I wondered how many people my wife had placed around me.
Rebecca cautioned me not to accuse Olivia without evidence.
I agreed.
But we immediately restricted access to the relevant accounts and began an independent audit.
That afternoon, Mom asked to speak with me.
She was resting in the guest bedroom.
I sat beside her.
"How are you feeling?"
"Better."
I didn't believe her completely.
Her face still looked tired.
But her voice was stronger.
She took my hand.
"Marcus, there's something about Vanessa I never told you."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
Mom looked toward the window.
"Before you met her, I knew her family."
I stared at her.
"How?"
"Her mother worked with me at a community housing charity years ago."
I remembered Mom volunteering at that organization.
She helped families find affordable apartments after my father died.
Vanessa had told me her own mother passed away when she was a teenager.
I had never questioned it.
Mom continued.
"Vanessa's mother was accused of misusing charity funds."
I froze.
"What?"
"The organization discovered missing donations. An investigation followed."
I leaned forward.
"Was she convicted?"
"No. The matter was resolved without a criminal conviction. But she lost her position."
I stared at Mom.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
She looked ashamed.
"Because I didn't want to judge Vanessa for something her mother had done."
I rubbed my forehead.
Mom continued.
"Then, last year, Vanessa asked me to introduce her to several donors from the old charity."
My heartbeat quickened.
"Did you?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because the requests felt strange. She wanted private contact information and details about family trusts."
I stared at her.
"What did she say when you refused?"
Mom looked down.
"She became angry."
I felt cold.
"Did she threaten you?"
"Not directly."
She swallowed.
"But after that, she started telling you I disliked her."
I remembered.
Vanessa had complained constantly that Mom judged her.
She claimed Mom thought she wasn't good enough for me.
She said my family would never accept her because she didn't come from wealth.
I defended her.
Sometimes angrily.
I had even argued with Mom about it.
Now I wondered whether Vanessa had been creating distance between us deliberately.
"Mom, why didn't you explain?"
She looked at me.
"I tried."
I closed my eyes.
The words hurt.
Then she added something that made me sit upright.
"There's one more person you should know about."
I looked at her.
"Who?"
"Olivia Reed."
My stomach dropped.
"Olivia?"
Mom nodded.
"Her mother worked at that same charity."
I stared at her.
"You're telling me Olivia and Vanessa knew each other?"
"Since childhood."
I felt sick.
Vanessa had introduced Olivia as someone she met at a professional networking event.
She never mentioned that their families had known each other for years.
I reached for my phone.
Before I could call Rebecca, a message appeared from David.
He had found additional vendor records.
Several accounts connected to the suspicious payments shared the same mailing address.
A commercial suite in downtown Atlanta.
The registered contact wasn't Derek.
It wasn't Olivia.
May you like
It was Vanessa.
And one of the companies had been incorporated only three days after our engagement.
