“Maybe routine access.”

“Maybe routine access.”

“No.”

“How do you know?”

“Because Martin hasn’t opened my calendar in six months.”

I pulled up another screen.

Three weeks earlier, I had canceled an old lease tied to one of our newly purchased South Loop warehouses.

A shell tenant called Apex Logistics.

Nothing but a mailbox, paperwork, and absurd monthly transfers.

I traced the ownership structure.

Delaware LLC.

Indiana holding company.

Another shell.

Then a name.

Liam O’Bannon.

Adrien went very still.

“The O’Bannons.”

“Your casino friends?”

“They aren’t friends.”

“Good. Their accounting sucks.”

I calculated the frozen transfers.

Then stared at the number.

$6,284,900.

“Oh.”

Adrien leaned closer.

“Oh what?”

“I didn’t just cancel a lease.”

I turned the screen toward him.

“I froze more than six million dollars of their cash.”

The attack finally made sense.

But the worst part didn’t.

I hadn’t told anyone outside our office.

Which meant Liam O’Bannon knew what I had done because someone inside Cross Development told him.

Someone who knew my route home.

Someone who knew my work schedule.

Someone who knew I stopped every Thursday at Murphy’s Diner for coffee before driving to Lincoln Park.

I looked at Adrien.

“Martin sold me.”

Adrien’s face emptied.

That scared me more than anger.

“What do you want me to do?”

I thought about the broken glass.

The pavement.

The laughter.

Then I remembered something else.

The parking garage.

Cross Development had upgraded its camera system in October.

Every employee vehicle entering or leaving was recorded.

“Nothing yet,” I said.

Adrien stared at me.

“Nothing?”

“I want proof.”

That surprised him.

I placed the tablet on my lap.

“Then I want him to know I found it.”

PART 3 — The camera caught what Martin never expected

At noon, our security director sent over the garage footage.

I watched it three times.

Thursday.

6:08 p.m.

My blue Lexus exited the garage.

Thirty-seven seconds later, a black SUV followed.

Nothing dramatic.

Then I rewound.

Martin was standing near the exit.

He wasn’t leaving.

He was waiting.

A man approached him.

Dark jacket.

Baseball cap.

They spoke for nineteen seconds.

Then Martin handed him something.

An envelope.

Adrien stood beside my chair.

“Enough.”

“No.”

“Audrey.”

“I said no.”

I enlarged the image.

The envelope had a logo.

Hawthorne Legal Group.

Our outside corporate law firm.

That was worse.

I called attorney Claire Hawthorne personally.

She answered from a courthouse hallway.

“No, Audrey. We didn’t send Martin anything.”

“Could he have received copies of warehouse documents?”

“Only if he requested them.”

“Did he?”

Silence.

Keyboard clicking.

Then Claire’s voice changed.

“Yes.”

“When?”

“Last month.”

“What documents?”

“The Apex Logistics termination package.”

There it was.

Martin hadn’t just leaked my schedule.

He had pulled the exact contract that explained where the O’Bannons’ money disappeared.

I felt something inside me go cold.

Not scared.

Cold.

Adrien took the phone.

“Claire. Preserve everything.”

“Already doing it.”

“And call Detective Salazar.”

I looked at him.

“Police?”

“Yes.”

“You suddenly like police?”

“I like useful evidence.”

Fair enough.

An hour later, Detective Elena Salazar arrived at the estate carrying a Dunkin’ coffee and the expression of a woman whose morning had already gone badly.

She watched the footage.

Read the access logs.

Then looked at me.

“You realize this turns your assault into conspiracy.”

“I realize it makes Martin an idiot.”

She smiled slightly.

“I like you.”

Most people did after they stopped underestimating me.

Salazar stood.

“Don’t contact him.”

Adrien and I both looked innocent.

She pointed at us.

“Especially those faces.”

When she left, I reached for the tablet.

Adrien caught my wrist gently.

“No.”

“What?”

“You need rest.”

“I need Martin.”

“You need antibiotics.”

I glared at him.

He didn’t move.

I finally leaned back.

“Fine.”

He released me.

I smiled.

Because I had already scheduled Martin for a 9:00 a.m. board meeting the next morning.

And he had clicked Accept.

PART 4 — Martin thought I would be too ashamed to return

Friday morning, I walked into Cross Development wearing a navy pantsuit and enough concealer to lose a small animal under.

My left arm was still in a sling.

The bruise couldn’t be hidden.

Good.

I wanted Martin to see it.

The receptionist went silent when I entered.

So did half the lobby.

Martin was waiting upstairs.

When I entered the boardroom, his mouth actually fell open.

“Audrey?”

I sat down.

“Morning.”

“I heard you were… mugged.”

“Mugged?”

His face twitched.

Tiny.

There.

“They didn’t steal anything,” I said.