Chapter 82 Undercover

Chapter 82 Undercover
Kayla’s POV 

I sat in the back of my vehicle with my private investigator beside me, papers spread across the seat between us. The tinted windows made everything outside look dim, but inside felt heavy and loud, filled with nothing but our breathing and the rustle of documents. I folded my arms and waited, watching him closely as he flipped through his folder.

“Explain it all again,” I said quietly. “From the beginning.”

He nodded and adjusted his glasses before speaking. His voice was steady, like someone who had obviously done this a thousand times.

“As you instructed, I began a full investigation on Vivian Ward. I traced every aspect of her public and private dealings. Her workplace, her sponsors, her partnerships, her daily routines and even her visits to Adrian.”

Hearing Adrian’s name still created a strange tightening in my chest. I was the one who put him in jail, and I did not regret it, but there were still memories that did not vanish just because justice was served.

The investigator continued, laying out the foundation of his findings. “Everything on the surface looked clean. She has sponsorship deals with brands, public partnerships with corporations, and an active social appearance. I looked into all her contracts. I traced the payments and everything checked out. No red flags.”

I frowned slightly. “She is too smart to leave obvious trails.”

“Exactly,” he replied. “So I started digging into her private side. Not what she shows the world, but what she hides behind business screens and numbers.”

He pulled out a particular sheet and slid it toward me. My eyes skimmed the page.

“What is this?” I asked.

“A directors list,” he replied. “Vivian is registered as a director of a company.”

I stared at it harder. “Vivian owns a company?”

“Yes. But the company is a shell company. It has no active operations, no employees, no office and no identifiable product or business service. It only exists on paper.”

I raised my gaze slowly. “Why would she register a dead company?”

“For the same reason many wealthy individuals do. To move money quietly.”

He opened another file revealing financial statements.

“Despite having no operations, this company has consistent inflow and outflow of money. Payments are labeled as office rent, logistics, transport, maintenance and professional services. But there is no evidence of any of those services actually existing.”

I exhaled softly. “So she launders money.”

“Most likely. But that is not all. I checked tax records. The company has no tax history. She has been evading tax successfully.”

I nodded because none of this surprised me. Vivian had always been someone who hid her dirt well. Exposing her shell company would definitely cause a scandal but I knew it would not be enough to actually bring her down. Wealthy people had ways to push liability away from themselves.

“So if we expose the company,” I said, “it will take the fall, not Vivian personally. She will claim ignorance and walk away untouched.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “So I dug deeper. I tracked all outgoing transactions from her company for the last eleven months.”

He paused slightly, like he wanted to see my reaction.

“There was a large payment three weeks ago to a second company named Omega Enterprises.”

I leaned in. “What did you find out about Omega?”

“It is identical to Vivian’s company. On paper it has no business operation. No staff. No production. No tax payments. Nothing but an account and a registration. However, its bank account also shows inflow and outflow with nearly the same labels used by Vivian’s shell company.”

My heart slowly picked up speed.

“So they are connected.”

“Very likely. And that is what makes it suspicious. Two dead companies exchanging money without any recorded services means that one of them is paying the other for something hidden.”

He continued, confident and methodical. “In many cases, shell companies like Omega are fronts for illegal services. They might coordinate fraud, transport illegal goods, offer hidden political leverage, or in darker scenarios, arrange contract violence.”

My breath caught slightly at that last part. Contract violence. An ugly possibility that suddenly made everything feel colder.

“Are you saying Omega might be a front for illegal jobs?” I asked.

“It is possible. There are no surface business activities, yet money moves frequently. When I trace the transactions, they move like payments for tasks completed at intervals.”

He paused again before adding, “This is enough to get internal affairs involved or financial crimes to open a file. It would take time because they must follow protocols, but the structure is there.”

I stayed silent for a long moment. My mind drifted to Mel collapsing at the hotel, and to Vivian watching me with that look of satisfaction at the fundraiser. My stomach twisted.

“What if the payments were for something illegal done on Vivian’s behalf?” I whispered without meaning to say it out loud.

“It would make sense,” he replied. “Omega might be performing tasks Vivian does not want linked to her. If we identify who owns Omega, we can connect the trail and expose both sides.”

I stared at the passing city buildings outside. My jaw clenched slowly.

“How long would the police take if we hand this over?”

“Days or weeks,” he answered honestly. “Warrants need signatures. Departments need communication. Evidence must be verified. It is a long process.”

“And if you continue undercover?”

He looked me straight in the eyes. “I can proceed quietly and quickly. If I expose Omega internally and connect Vivian with the owner directly, it may damage her before she has time to hide the trail. The key is secrecy.”

I nodded once. “Do it undercover. And quietly. I want speed and privacy.”

“Understood,” he said with a small nod. “You will know before anyone else.”

“Good,” I replied. “And keep digging until you either find the link or prove there is none. I want to know what she paid for. Everything.”

“Consider it done.”

He reached for the door, but paused on hearing my voice.

“You did well. And you are right. She is a lot like her husband.”

He gave a faint smile. “Villains usually marry their kind.”

He stepped out of the car and closed the door behind him.

The drive home was quiet and long. My phone sat in my hand, and I stared at it periodically, thinking of Ashton and Steven arguing because of me. I did not ask them to fight for me. I did not ask them to show up. Yet guilt pulled at me slowly.

I considered calling Ashton first, but stopped myself. Then I considered calling Steven, but the same hesitation appeared. I was not officially with any of them. There was no promise, no label, no commitment. Yet both acted like I belonged to them.

The guilt eventually mixed with annoyance. If they could not control their rivalry, that was their problem, not mine.

When I got home, the mansion felt too large and too silent. I went to the kitchen, found something small to eat and stood while eating instead of sitting down. Work eventually pulled me to my study, and I opened my laptop to go through company documents to distract my mind.

That was when I remembered something important.

Hayley’s call.

Hayley was planning a surprise party for her husband in two days. She had asked for my help. She wanted me in Los Angeles.

I picked up my phone and dialed my secretary.

“Good evening ma,” she greeted.

“I urgently need you to book me a flight to Los Angeles,” I said. “Prepare everything. I am helping a friend with a surprise party.”

“Yes ma. I will handle it right away.”

The call ended and I went upstairs to change into more comfortable clothing. Once I finished dressing, I returned downstairs with my small luggage and met my driver at the entrance. He opened the door for me and I entered while heaving out a small sigh.

Hayley called before the airport road. Her voice came through with energy as always.

“So you are coming, right?” she asked.

“I already told my secretary to book my flight,” I replied.

“Good. Because I need help with decorations, food trays, drinks and gifts. And do not think I will not make you bring something nice with you.”

I let out a tired laugh. “Tell me what you want as gifts and I will get them.”

“I already have a list,” she said proudly. “I will text it to you.”

She continued talking about arrangements, guest list, catering and small surprises we planned to add for her husband. I listened carefully and responded where needed. But as she talked, my heart slowly grew heavier.

When the call ended and silence returned, I stared at my reflection in the dark window. I was helping plan a celebration for a married couple who loved each other. Meanwhile, my heart was split between two men I did not know how to handle. 

I wasn’t in any relationship and it kind of feels weird planning a surprise for someone else’s husband.

My chest hurt a little as the quiet swallowed the car interior. I placed a hand over my heart and whispered so softly that no one else could hear.

“I will expose Vivian for everything she did. Just like I exposed Adrian. For the pain they caused me and for the pain they might have caused to someone who did not deserve it.”

The driver continued toward the airport while my thoughts spiraled, and the weight of not having my life sorted out pressed down on me, filling my chest with distress that refused to be ignored.