Chapter 2 - The Office That Was Supposed To Be Locked
I stood outside my private office with my hand frozen on the door handle.
The door was open.
That alone was impossible.
For six years, nobody entered that room without my permission.
Not my employees.
Not my managers.
Not even my family.
My office was where I kept confidential contracts, financial records, and documents that controlled every major decision in my company.
But now, after discovering someone had been using my name to steal from one of my employees, I found it unlocked.
I slowly pushed the door wider.
The room was dark.
Only the city lights from the massive windows illuminated the expensive furniture inside.
"Hello?"
No answer.
I stepped in.
My eyes moved across the room.
The leather chair behind my desk.
The shelves filled with awards.
The framed photographs of my company milestones.
Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
I closed the door behind me.
Then I noticed something.
The drawer on the right side of my desk was slightly open.
My stomach tightened.
That drawer contained personal documents.
Things I never allowed anyone else to touch.
I walked toward it slowly.
Inside were folders.
Contracts.
Investment papers.
Nothing seemed missing.
But one folder was different.
A thin black folder placed on top.
I had never seen it before.
I picked it up.
There was no label.
No company logo.
No name.
Just a small white sticker attached to the corner.
My name was written on it.
Alexander Reed.
But the handwriting wasn't mine.
I opened the folder.
The first page was a copy of a payroll report.
My eyes immediately went to the employee name.
Rosa Martinez.
Monthly salary.
Approved payment.
Three months overdue.
I turned the page.
Another document.
Another approval form.
Another signature.
My signature.
Except it wasn't my signature.
Someone had copied it.
Someone had forged my name.
I felt anger rising inside me.
Not because of the money.
The amount was insignificant compared to what my company handled every day.
It was because someone had looked directly into the eyes of a woman who had worked hard for years and convinced her that I was the reason she was suffering.
Someone had hidden behind my reputation.
I flipped through more pages.
There were dozens.
Not just Rosa.
Other employees.
Maintenance workers.
Kitchen staff.
Security personnel.
Small amounts.
Hundreds here.
Thousands there.
But together, it created a pattern.
Someone had been stealing from my employees for months.
Maybe years.
I grabbed my phone and called my assistant.
"Daniel, I need you to come to my office immediately."
His voice answered quickly.
"Of course, Mr. Reed. Is everything okay?"
"No."
I paused.
"Tell me something. Who has access to employee payment records?"
There was silence.
A little too long.
"Daniel?"
"Only authorized management staff, sir."
"Names."
Another pause.
"Mr. Harrison. The accounting department. And you."
I looked at the forged documents in my hand.
"Anyone else?"
"No, sir."
I ended the call.
My mind went straight to one person.
Richard Harrison.
My estate manager.
A man who had worked for my family for eight years.
A man I trusted enough to handle daily operations when I traveled.
A man who knew exactly how my home worked.
I walked downstairs.
Everyone was still standing where I left them.
Rosa held Camila's hand.
The little girl watched me carefully.
She looked like she was trying to figure out whether I believed her.
I approached them.
"Rosa."
"Yes, sir?"
"I need you to tell me everything."
Her eyes widened.
"Everything?"
"Every conversation. Every promise. Every time someone told you the payment was coming."
She looked nervous.
Then she nodded.
"Mr. Harrison always handled it."
"When was the first time he mentioned the delay?"
Rosa thought for a moment.
"Three months ago."
"And what did he say?"
She looked down.
"He said your company was changing payment systems. He said you personally apologized."
My jaw tightened.
"I never said that."
"I know that now."
Camila stepped forward.
"My mom didn't want to tell you because she thought you were busy."
I looked at her.
"Why did you decide to tell me?"
The little girl looked at her mother.
Then back at me.
"Because yesterday I heard Mr. Harrison talking."
"What did he say?"
She hesitated.
Then whispered:
"He said my mom was just a cleaner. He said nobody important would care if she waited a little longer."
The entire room became silent.
Rosa closed her eyes.
She looked embarrassed.
But I didn't see embarrassment.
I saw someone who had been made to feel invisible.
I turned away.
I needed answers.
And I needed them immediately.
"Where is Mr. Harrison now?"
Nobody answered.
I looked at the staff.
One of the kitchen workers slowly raised her hand.
"Sir..."
"Yes?"
"He left about twenty minutes ago."
"Left?"
She nodded.
"He said he had an urgent meeting."
I checked my watch.
An urgent meeting.
Right after I discovered his fraud.
Interesting.
I walked toward the entrance.
"Did he take anything?"
The security guard looked uncomfortable.
"I don't know, sir."
"Check the cameras."
A few minutes later, we were watching the security footage.
The screen showed Harrison leaving through the side entrance.
He wasn't alone.
My eyes narrowed.
Someone else was with him.
A woman.
She was wearing sunglasses.
Her face wasn't clear.
But I recognized the coat.
A coat I had seen before.
At family events.
At company dinners.
Inside my own home.
"Zoom in."
The security guard did.
The image became clearer.
My heart stopped for a moment.
Because I knew exactly who that woman was.
Before I could say anything, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Nobody spoke.
Only silence.
Then a voice.
A woman's voice.
"Alexander."
I froze.
"Who is this?"
A quiet laugh came from the other end.
"You really believed everything inside that house belonged to you?"
My expression changed.
"Who are you?"
The woman ignored my question.
"You should stop looking at the employees."
I looked at the screen again.
At Harrison.
At the mysterious woman beside him.
"You should be asking why the people closest to you needed Rosa to disappear."
My grip tightened around the phone.
"How do you know about Rosa?"
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Then I noticed something.
A new message had arrived.
One photo.
Attached.
I opened it.
My blood ran cold.
It was a picture taken inside my private office.
A picture of someone standing behind my desk.
Someone who had been there moments before I entered.
And underneath the photo was one sentence:
"Ask your family why they opened the door for me."
I slowly looked toward the staircase.
Toward the portraits hanging on the wall.
Then I heard a sound.
A soft movement upstairs.
Someone was walking.
I reached the second floor.
The hallway was empty.
But the door at the end of the corridor...
May you like
The door to my family's private room...
was slowly opening from the inside.
