“To Winston?”

Claire stared.

Eddie smiled faintly.

“You talked about the cat for half the ride.”

Claire looked back at Adrian.

“Yes. To Winston.”

Adrian picked up her Northbridge badge again.

“Unfortunately, Ms. Bennett, where you work changes things.”

“How?”

Before Adrian could answer, Ray’s phone rang.

He checked the screen.

His expression immediately hardened.

He walked several feet away.

“Yeah?”

Claire watched him.

Ray listened.

Then looked directly at her.

“Say that again.”

Adrian noticed.

“What?”

Ray lowered the phone.

“The employment record is legitimate.”

Claire exhaled.

“Wonderful. Can I leave now?”

Ray didn’t look at her.

“There’s something else.”

Adrian waited.

Ray held up Claire’s employee badge.

“Her access level.”

Claire frowned.

“My what?”

Ray looked at Adrian.

“She has authorization for Northbridge’s restricted reconciliation archive.”

Adrian became very still.

Claire shook her head.

“That sounds more impressive than it is.”

“What’s inside the archive?” Adrian asked.

“Old freight reconciliations. Vendor payments. Customs charges. Insurance records.”

“How old?”

“Some go back fifteen years.”

Ray and Adrian exchanged a glance.

Claire felt something cold settle inside her stomach.

Adrian walked toward her.

“Do you know a company called Lakeshore Maritime Holdings?”

Claire thought.

“Yes.”

Nobody moved.

She suddenly wished she had said no.

Adrian’s voice dropped.

“What do you know about it?”

“Nothing important. It’s an inactive vendor account.”

“Inactive?”

“For years.”

“How many?”

“I don’t know. Eight? Nine?”

Adrian stared at her.

Claire’s unease grew.

“What?”

“When did you last access that account?”

“I didn’t.”

Ray spoke quietly.

“Her credentials did.”

Claire turned.

“What?”

Ray looked at the information on his phone.

“Three nights ago.”

“That’s impossible.”

“At 2:14 a.m.”

“I was asleep.”

“Your employee credentials opened eleven archived files connected to Lakeshore Maritime.”

Claire laughed nervously.

“No. They didn’t.”

Ray continued.

“Someone also downloaded them.”

Claire’s face went cold.

“I didn’t do that.”

Adrian watched her closely.

“I believe you.”

That frightened Claire more than being accused.

“Why?”

“Because whoever accessed those files made a mistake.”

“What mistake?”

“They used your credentials.”

Claire stared at him.

“And?”

Adrian stepped closer.

“Which means whoever did it expected the activity to be traced back to you.”

The room suddenly seemed colder.

Claire remembered Wednesday morning.

Her computer had restarted unexpectedly.

IT had told her it was a routine update.

Her access card had disappeared for nearly twenty minutes at lunch before she found it beneath a stack of folders.

Then yesterday her supervisor, Martin Keane, had unexpectedly asked whether she planned to work from home Friday.

At the time, none of those things had seemed important.

Now they did.

Adrian saw something change in her face.

“What?”

Claire hesitated.

“My badge disappeared Wednesday.”

“For how long?”

“Maybe twenty minutes.”

“Who had access to your desk?”

“Half the department.”

“Your supervisor?”

“Yes.”

“Name.”

“Martin Keane.”

Ray immediately looked toward Adrian.

Claire noticed.

“You know him.”

Neither answered.

“Do you know Martin?”

Adrian slowly turned toward Ray.

“Bring up the Northbridge files.”

Ray walked to a laptop.

A few seconds later, a large monitor illuminated.

Claire saw spreadsheets.

Invoices.

Names.

Dates.

Then a photograph appeared.

Martin Keane.

Her supervisor.

The man who brought donuts every Monday.

The man who remembered everybody’s birthdays.

The man who had given Claire the red umbrella last Christmas.

Claire stared at the screen.

“That’s Martin.”

Adrian said nothing.

Ray opened another document.

A wire transfer.

$2,800,000.

Another.

$4,150,000.

Another.

$1,900,000.

All connected through companies Claire recognized from Northbridge.

Her breathing slowed.

“This doesn’t make sense.”

Adrian turned toward her.

“It will.”

“What is this?”

“Money that disappeared.”

“From Northbridge?”

“No.”

His eyes held hers.

“From me.”

Claire’s stomach dropped.

She finally understood.

Adrian Vale wasn’t simply a wealthy businessman.

The guards.

The kidnapping.

The fear surrounding his name.

The hidden financial records.

Claire took a step backward.

“You’re a criminal.”

Nobody corrected her.

Claire looked toward the door.

Adrian noticed.

“Running would be a bad idea.”

“Is that a threat?”

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“It’s advice.”

Claire folded her arms around herself.

“You kidnapped the wrong person.”

Adrian glanced at the screen containing Martin Keane’s photograph.

“I’m beginning to think we didn’t.”

Claire’s face drained of color.

“What does that mean?”

Before Adrian answered, Ray’s phone rang again.

This time he put it on speaker.

A male voice came through.

“We checked Bennett’s apartment.”

Claire stepped forward.

“You did what?”

The voice continued.

“Someone got there before us.”

Adrian’s expression changed.

“What happened?”

“Door was forced.”

Claire’s heart stopped.

“Winston.”

Adrian looked at her.

“My cat.”

The voice continued.

“Apartment’s been searched. Drawers emptied. Computer gone.”

Claire could barely breathe.

“Was the cat there?”

A pause.

“We didn’t see one.”

Claire closed her eyes.

Then the man on the phone added something worse.

“There was a message written on the kitchen counter.”

Adrian’s gaze sharpened.

“What message?”

The answer came through the speaker.

“WHERE IS THE ACCOUNTANT?”

Claire slowly opened her eyes.

Nobody in the room spoke.

Adrian looked at her differently now.

Not like a mistake.

Not like an inconvenience.

Like someone whose ordinary life had just ended.

And Claire suddenly understood the terrifying truth.

The men who had kidnapped her by accident might have been the only reason she was still alive.

But as Adrian stared at the stolen records on the screen, another realization was forming behind his dark eyes.

Someone inside Northbridge had used Claire Bennett’s identity for a reason.

And whatever was hidden inside those eleven files was important enough that someone had already gone looking for her.

But Claire had no idea that one of those files contained Adrian Vale’s real name—and the secret that could destroy everything he had built.