Chapter 3 - My Name Was on the Dirty Money
Maya didn't go home.
She hated that Dominic was right.
She hated even more that she felt safer in the armored SUV beside him than she had anywhere else that day.
Dominic took her to a penthouse overlooking Lake Michigan.
“This is temporary,” Maya said.
“Of course.”
“I mean it.”
“So do I.”
Luca checked every room.
Maya stood near the windows.
Chicago stretched beneath her.
Dominic poured water and handed it to her.
“No whiskey?”
“You need a clear head.”
“Bossy.”
“Alive.”
Maya took the water.
They spent the evening reconstructing the accounts.
By midnight they discovered something worse.
The stolen money wasn't simply disappearing.
It was purchasing warehouses, trucking companies, and port access.
Someone was quietly building control over Romano Global's supply routes.
“This isn't theft,” Maya said.
Dominic nodded.
“It's a takeover.”
“And Charles is helping.”
“Yes.”
“But somebody above Charles is directing it.”
Dominic looked at her.
“You're good.”
“At accounting?”
“At seeing structure.”
Maya smiled faintly.
“That's the nicest thing anyone has said to me in twenty-four hours.”
His expression changed.
“What did your friend mean last night?”
Maya knew immediately.
“Nothing.”
“Safe friend.”
She looked away.
“You heard that?”
“I hear most things happening around me.”
“That's ominous.”
“Maya.”
She sighed.
“It means I'm the woman people expect to be sensible because nobody expects me to be reckless enough to believe the gorgeous dangerous guy might actually want me.”
Dominic stared at her.
She regretted every word.
Then he said, “Your friend is an idiot.”
Maya laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
Dominic moved closer.
“This isn't why I noticed you.”
“Why did you?”
“You walked toward a table everyone else avoided.”
“I didn't know who you were.”
“That made it better.”
Their eyes met.
For a moment the accounts disappeared.
Then Maya's laptop chimed.
A newly decrypted file opened.
Charles Mercer had scheduled a payment for midnight.
Recipient:
ROMANO FAMILY TRUST.
Dominic went completely still.
“My father created that trust.”
“Can Charles access it?”
“No.”
“Who can?”
Dominic didn't answer immediately.
“My uncle Salvatore.”
Maya had heard that name too.
Salvatore Romano had supposedly retired years ago.
Dominic called Luca.
Within minutes the penthouse changed from temporary refuge to command center.
Maya searched deeper.
She found an encrypted folder hidden beneath archived invoices.
Inside were copies of her employee records.
Her Social Security information.
Her signature samples.
Her home address.
Photographs.
Someone had been preparing to frame her for months.
Then she found the first creation date.
Two years earlier.
Long before Maya discovered the suspicious Halcyon accounts.
“They chose me before the theft began,” she whispered.
Dominic came beside her.
“Why?”
Maya opened another document.
Employee profiles.
Dozens of names.
Each had been evaluated.
Most were rejected.
Beside Maya's profile were three words.
IDEAL FALL PERSON.
Her throat tightened.
Dominic read the notes.
Single.
No children.
Middle management.
High-level financial access.
Limited executive connections.
Low reputational risk to company.
And one final sentence:
LIKELY TO ACCEPT BLAME UNDER PRESSURE.
Maya stared at it.
Something inside her broke.
Not loudly.
She had spent years being dependable.
Useful.
Easy to underestimate.
Charles had weaponized every quality people praised her for.
Dominic closed the laptop.
“Don't.”
She looked at him.
“Don't what?”
“Believe it.”
“You don't know me.”
“I know you walked into a boardroom, saw sixty-two million dollars attached to your name, and started solving the crime instead of collapsing.”
Maya swallowed.
Dominic touched her chin.
“You're nobody's easy target.”
The intimacy frightened her more than the threats.
She stepped back.
“We need evidence.”
Dominic let her go.
They worked until nearly dawn.
At 4:17 a.m., Maya found it.
A hidden ledger.
Every payment.
Every shell company.
Every beneficiary.
Charles Mercer appeared repeatedly.
Salvatore Romano appeared repeatedly.
But a third person was identified only as “C.”
Maya searched associated metadata.
Nothing.
Then Dominic's phone rang.
Luca answered.
His expression hardened.
“We found Mercer.”
“Where?”
“Parking garage beneath his office.”
“Bring him.”
Luca hesitated.
“He's dead.”
Maya froze.
Dominic's eyes darkened.
“How?”
“Made to look like suicide.”
Maya felt sick.
Then Luca added, “There was something in his pocket.”
“What?”
“A note.”
Luca sent the photograph.
Maya enlarged it.
The handwriting looked shaky.
Four words.
MAYA BENNETT KNOWS EVERYTHING.
“No,” Maya whispered. “I don't.”
Dominic was already calling security.
Maya's laptop suddenly went black.
Then the screen returned.
A live video feed appeared.
Her apartment.
A figure stood in the center of her bedroom.
The person wore gloves and a dark coat.
Then the figure approached the camera.
He placed something directly in front of it.
Charles Mercer's employee badge.
Maya stopped breathing.
The figure turned the badge over.
Three words had been scratched into the plastic.
ASK DOMINIC ABOUT CLAIRE.
Maya slowly looked at him.
Dominic's face had gone pale.
“Who's Claire?”
Before he could answer, someone knocked on the penthouse door.
Three slow knocks.
Luca checked the security monitor.
Then he looked at Dominic.
“That's impossible.”
The knocking came again.
Dominic approached the monitor.
A woman stood outside.
May you like
Dominic whispered one word.
“Claire.”
