Chapter 151: Starting Afresh

He held out his hand.

She didn't take it.

"New head of operations," she repeated. "What happened to Marcus?"

"Marcus was let go. Restructuring."

"Marcus worked here for twelve years."

The man didn't blink. "I understand this is a transition. Your uncle thought it would be easier if.."

"My uncle thought a lot of things. Sit down."

Daniel Reed looked at the small chair across from her desk. He sat.

"Tell me what you do here," Chloe said. "And don't give me a title. Tell me what you actually do."

He looked at her for a moment.

"I help manage day-to-day operations," he said.

"What does that mean?"

"Vendor contracts. Supply chain. Logistics."

"Which vendors?"

"I'd have to check my files."

"Check them now."

He didn't move. "Mrs. Chloe, I think you should talk to your uncle before.."

"I think you should answer my question."

The room was quiet. He studied her face like he was seeing her for the first time.

"I'll get you the files," he said finally.

He stood and left.

Chloe watched him walk down the hall. He stopped at the elevator and pulled out his phone. She couldn't hear what he said. But she could see his expression. Serious. Careful.

He was calling someone. Probably her uncle.

She turned back to her laptop and kept reading.

The numbers on the screen told her a story. Money was leaving the company in every direction. Slowly. Quietly. Spread across different accounts and fake companies that it would take someone time to find it all.

Her uncle had three months to do this. Three months while she took time off. Three months later, she refused to forgive Rhys for keeping her in the dark. Three months while the world kept moving.

Three months was a long time to steal from someone.

She closed the laptop and leaned back in the chair. The room was small. The walls were white. There was nothing personal in it. Nothing that said she belonged here.

But she did belong here. This was her company. Her father built it. She ran it. And she was not going to sit in a small room on the third floor while someone else took it apart.

She picked up her phone and texted Mr Albright back.

“Also look into a company called Reed Operations. And find out everything you can about a man named Daniel Reed.”

She put the phone down and looked out the window again. The sun was going down. Her first day was almost over.

Tomorrow she will come back and do it again. And the day after that.

The Search for Noah

Three months had passed since the night Chloe was taken. Three months of sleepless nights, of going through trauma. She had never really healed from the trauma. But one thread remained unresolved. Noah Vance has vanished. He needs to be brought to book.

Rhys stood in the Aegis command center, a map of the city spread across the main screen. Red dots marked every reported sighting of Noah in the past ninety days, a scattered constellation of near misses and false alarms.

"Nothing solid," David reported, pointing to the dots. "He's using cash, burner phones, staying off grid. Every time we get close, he moves."

"He's had practice," Rhys said, his voice flat. "Twelve years in prison teaches you how to disappear."

David entered the command center, he has taken some time off to take care of personal matters. "Any progress?" He asked, moving to stand beside Rhys.

"Not enough." He gestured to the map. "He's bouncing between safe houses, probably using old contacts from his prison days. But he's running out of places to hide."

David studied the dots, his brow furrowed. "He's not just hiding. He's waiting."

Rhys turned to look at her. "For what?"

"For Julian to make a move. For us to let our guard down. For another chance." He looked up at him, his eyes hard. "Noah doesn't give up. He didn't when he was in prison. He reinvented himself, built a whole new identity. He'll do it again if we let him."

Carter spoke up. "We've been tracking his known associates. One of them slipped up yesterday, and used a credit card at a gas station outside the city. We're pulling the footage now."

A technician pulled up the video on a side screen. Grainy, black and white, but unmistakable. Noah, wearing a baseball cap and sunglasses, pumping gas into a beat-up sedan. He looked thinner, older, the charm replaced by a hunted, desperate edge.

"That's him," David whispered.

Rhys leaned closer to the screen. "Where was this?"

"About forty miles east. A small town called Millbrook. Population under a thousand." David pulled up a map. "Lots of back roads, wooded areas, old farmhouses. Perfect place to lie low."

Rhys straightened, his decision made. "I'm going."

"Alone?" David asked.

"No. Take a small team. Quiet. We don't want to spook him."