42

42

“Sit.”

It sounded neither like a question nor an invitation. So I sat on the edge of the chair across from him because that felt like the safest distance without actually leaving the room. My knees bumped the coffee table and I pretended not to notice. I kept my hands still on my lap so he wouldn’t accuse me of stealing his furniture or something.

He leaned back slightly, studying me in that slow, quiet way that made me hate every bone in his body. “Explain how you noticed it.”

I blinked at him. “It’s literally right there.”

“That is not an explanation.”

I sighed and gestured at the sheets. “The transfers are too neat. Look at that—ten thousand, twenty thousand, twenty-five thousand. Criminals don’t round up like bankers. If someone is washing money, they try to make it look boring. Whoever did this tried so hard to look normal, and too neat that it ended up looking suspicious.”

He nodded and I literally could feel his eyes on me, which, by the way, if you didn't know, was worse than being watched like prey, I felt like I was on a death row.

“So,” he began, “you’ve seen this before?”

“No,” I said. “But I can count, it's like common sense.”

I don't know why I said that.

The corner of his mouth shifted like a muscle twitch and his frown deepened.

He looked at the papers again, tapping a finger against the arm of the couch. “It took my staff years to notice these inconsistencies.” He didn’t bother hiding the irritation in his voice. “And you saw it in seconds, so it's either they’re working with whoever’s doing it or I somehow hired a school bus full of dumb men.”

“Hmm.” I shrugged. It literally wasn't my business.

His gaze lifted to me slowly, and I could practically feel the ‘watch your mouth’ without him having to say it. I cleared my throat and sat up straighter.

He changed the subject before I could dig myself deeper. “Who do you think did it.”

Okay, so It's either he's just fucking with me or he's stupid, I don't know.

“A little reminder that I don't work at your company, and I have no idea who these people are.”

I gestured again. “But if I had to guess? It's this guy, and somehow his report affected the others making it looking like everyone'd doing the same thing, or it's just normal. And from my movie experience it's...” I trailed off.

“Go on”

The last kdrama I watched was with my sister, Reborn rich was it. I see her so invested in it, more than I was.
“Why did you kill her?” I looked at him.

He sighed in exasperation and rubbed his temple. “Kill who?”

I took a deep breath. “No one, forget I asked anything.” I sniffed and smiled widely.

He looked at me for a very long moment then gestured for me to continue.

I nodded, “It's always the people closer to you.”

After a moment, he stood and walked to the desk. He picked up a thicker folder from the far corner and dropped it in front of me. The thud made me jump even though I tried to pretend it didn’t.

“You’re going to go through all of this,” he said.

Go through wh— Is he crazy?

Being caged and watched like a circus animal doesn't mean I don't have a life.

“What?”

“If you can see what trained men missed,” he said, “then you’ll see something here too, you have until tomorrow night.”

“Are you serious right now? What makes you think I wouldn't ruin the entire thing further, if anything, I'm so happy they took this much from you.” I opened the folder and instantly regretted being born. “Do I even look like graduate to you? I have less idea what these are than I have of the reason you bought me.”

I flipped a page, scanning. “You know this would be easier if someone taught your staff how to read.”

He glared at me.

“Glare at me all you fucking want it doesn't change the fact,” I muttered. “I'm so going to ruin this.”

For a few minutes, the room was quiet except for the sound of pages turning as I went through this death threat. The numbers were a mess. Whoever was stealing money wasn’t careful, but they weren’t stupid either. It felt like digging through someone’s dirty laundry — except the laundry was made of crime, money and math.

I rubbed my forehead. “Why do you want me to do this anyway? You have Lisa? Or what's his name...Adrian.”

As if being summoned the door clicked and was pushed open, Adrian stepped in, holding a notebook. He gave a short nod to Moretti and then to me.

“Patrol’s done, sir,” he said. “If there's nothing else I'd like to leave for the day., ?”

Moretti glanced up at him and nodded. “Send a man to the ledger room to lock it down for the day before you leave. No one accesses it without me.”

Adrian left without more than a second-long look and a nod. Meanwhile, Moretti tapped on the bunch of papers he handed me. “Sort them. Highlight the transfers that look rounded, also separate invoices with stray account numbers. Flag anything that references offshore accounts. Put them in three piles and bring them to me tomorrow night.”

It should’ve felt demeaning, being handed this like a chore, but the thing is—there was a difference between being ordered to serve and being given something important that to spite him I'd ruin it further, or pick a favorite thief and hide his deed.

“Fine,”

Three piles of embezzlement evidence it.