Jonathan's POV
I sat on the sofa, sipping away on my coffee as I was going through the mail.
Mostly bills.
I picked my phone and began to clear them online.
I smiled wondering how Veronica used to pay them in person and still come to work on time.
Then I got up and walked over to the dining table.
The living room table had become small so I shifted to the dining table.
Now I was more focused, and much calmer.
Every word I read now was crystal clear.
I was reviewing one of Adrian's files.
My eyes were moving slowly over the papers, scanning every word.
Imelda had hired a great lawyer.
He knew how to hide his loops, but now I was catching every one of them.
I didn't care how long it took, but I was reading every line twice, and some even thrice.
My fingers would occasionally tap on the table.
I'd pause on every date, align them with what I knew and what was before me.
Then I picked a file I had been compiling on my own.
This file had no loopholes, no inconsistencies, and no hidden lawyer language.
After keeping the file safely in the locker, I left for work.
Rollings Designs
I was going through some emails, when my assistant entered.
"Mr. Rollings," he said walking over. "Today—"
"Cancel everything today," I said as I was typing a reply to an email.
"Bring me all files related to the Blue Heart project."
"And,"
I spoke before he could say anything.
"I want the originals. No xerox. If you have to, go to Harmon Designs and bring them."
"Mr. Rollings," he said hesitating. "Even if I go to Harmon Designs, the originals are in the safe."
I leaned over.
"Then get them out."
My voice was firm.
"Remember, you're my assistant, Rollings Designs assistant, and the Blue Heart project belongs to Rollings Designs. Imelda or her father have no connection to it."
He touched the base of his neck.
"Mr. Rollings…but the key is with Ms. Imelda."
"Then take it from her. Now go."
I knew he wanted to know why I needed the files, after all he has to say something when he gets there.
But telling…
"Mr. Rollings asked for them."
Now will be more than enough…as…
Now I won't give Imelda or Fredrick any more explanations.
It took him two hours to bring the files back, but he did.
"Yes," I said on the phone.
"Jonathan," Imelda's voice was evidently annoyed. "What's with sending your assistant to—"
"Imelda," I cut her words mid-way. "Blue Heart project is mine. Every cent in it is mine."
My grip tightened around my phone.
"And Veronica was the one whose dignity was at stake for it. Otherwise Sanders would have never agreed. And, now he will pay for what he did to my wife."
"Wife?" she scoffed on the phone. "Jonathan—"
"Say one more word against Veronica," I cut her words again. "I'll say it to your face."
"You've lost your mind," she said in an annoyed voice. "I'll talk to you later when you're calmer."
"I have never been this calm," I replied back.
I didn't wait for a reply, and disconnected the call.
I began to review the files, and USBs that came from Imelda's office.
"No wonder you kept them with you."
I began with the USBs.
There were screenshots of her conversation with Sanders.
Folders with documents related to the project, but none of them had gone through me.
Timestamps didn't align with the times I met him.
Except for one…
The casino night when he beat Veronica.
Some of the entries were incomplete.
Meant…
Imelda, or someone working for her, is using my signature.
Imelda either had someone or herself..
was using my signature.
Some were so clean, even I almost believed I must have signed them and forgotten.
While some were obvious on the first watch, the signature was fake.
But one thing was clear.
There was no delay in their completion. No corrections were done.
No flags that one could capture and use against her.
I paused.
Then folded my arms, thinking for a brief moment.
"Imelda," I said. "This isn't how things work with me. I just realized I indulged you way too much. You actually thought of such a hideous thought."
The records were perfect…
Way too perfect.
Then I took two documents and compared them.
One was three pages, the other barely one full and another half page.
Difference…
The longer one had a full process…
My sign…
Forged.
The shorter one…
My original signature.
The one I signed myself.
"She practically skipped the entire planning part in the document shared with me."
I had a slight frown on my face as I went through the missing parts.
"No wonder," I said on understanding the planning part.
"I would never have agreed to this."
I checked the three page document over and over again.
Finally, I had noted down every step, every detail she made sure was missed by me.
Every section where my fake signatures were used.
I frowned slightly again.
There were still some things that didn't make sense.
One of them was related to Veronica.
And that I will find out.
"Send the one who deals with the cross company file delivery."
I said on the phone.
A mid-level staff member walked in.
"Mr. Rollings," he said. "You called for me?"
"How were the files processed before?"
"I mean the urgent ones."
"Mr. Rollings," he stuttered as he spoke.
It was the first time I spoke in such a grave dominating voice.
"First the documents are verified by the legal team. Then the head lawyer re-drafts it by adding the details he's been given prior to the making of the document. Then they are sent to the…" He trailed off.
"Carry on," I said tapping on the table with my right hand fingers.
"I know about the double paperwork, and mine forged signatures."
He gasped.
"Once it is bypassed by the heads, they are sent to the relevant departments."
"And who decides who delivers…"
I trailed off as I knew who it was, but I wanted him to take her name.
"Normal documents were verified by the lawyer team, but…"
He trailed off.
"But the ones that are labelled as level one, or red flagged, would be sent to the higher up."
I scoffed.
"Higher ups," I rolled my eyes.
I remained calm as now I was onto the main fact I wanted to know.
I leaned forward and placed my elbows on the table as I held my hands cross-fingered.
"Who handled the transfer?" "Normal and urgent? Before and now."
"Before the normal documents were delivered by a local courier. As for the urgent ones or rather the ones that must reach the hand of the officer, were delivered by Ms. Smith. She delivered them at night so no one would know. And…ever since she resigned….things have been a mess."
"The courier service had to sign at the ledger before taking it."
I said recalling a rule.
"What about Veronica?"
"She didn't need to."
"And who gave that order?"
"Ms. Harmon…most of the time she was the one who would call Ms. Smith over at her home to take the document and deliver it to the said destination."
I didn't react.
I couldn't as I didn't want to give away too soon.
"Were the locations local?"
"Most of them, but at times they used to be out of the city."
He wiped sweat from his forehead.
"She would leave at night and come back early in the morning."
"Then, her daughter?"
"Ms. Imelda had hired a nanny. But her daughter was always sleeping so she never knew her mother wasn't home."
I gripped the file I was holding in my hand tighter.
"She never had a choice if she wanted to go or not."
"Mr. Rollings," he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. "She was an employee—"
"An employee who was a widow…"
I stood up in anger with my hands firmly on the table.
"Leaving behind a seven year old daughter in the middle of the night. Is this what Rollings Designs ethics are?
"Sorry Mr. Rollings," he said, staggering back. "But Ms. Imelda is your fiancée so—"
"So she has the license to kill anyone?"
"No..no…Mr. Rollings."
"Leave."
I waved my hand in the air as I practically fell in my chair.
All of a sudden I got a flashback:
Her desk near the trash cans.
The late nights delivering files.
Handling not only office work…
…but making coffee for the staff.
"She was doing all this…she kept bearing all of this…."
"All alone."
"She had no one to speak to. No one to lean on. No one to open her heart to. No one to tell her… I'm here for you."
"She didn't even have anyone to speak her heart too, let alone a shoulder to cry on or a warm embrace to tell her 'I'm here for you."
"I was supposed to be her haven…how did I become her hell?"
Imelda made her do things, in which she could never choose.
Imelda degraded, humiliated, manipulated her…
All the while knowing she's my legal wife whom I love.
"Why did she do this?"
"How come I never noticed?"
"And Veronica…did she bear it because of me, and Janet?"
"No…she must have borne it for Janet. Now…I won't be surprised if Imelda threatened Janet and made her do all of it."
My eyes fell on a USB I forgot to check.
So I put it in to check what else Imelda hid from me.
My eyes widened on seeing the content in the drive.
There were missing entries, most of them from my stock.
Partial logs of the designs Rollings Designs had made for parties under Harmon Designs label.
Now I found out, she didn't use my name anywhere on them.
I also noticed Veronica's salary slips only existed in the employee records. They never reached the account department.
Meaning the account department never had any record of her salary.
Makes sense.
To me she said she was giving Veronica a thousand dollars, whereas she only paid her a hundred dollars.
According to this the account department never knew she was to
"So, you've been taking my money as well without me knowing."
And here I thought I had made some losses.
I leaned back for a brief pause.
My mind drifted towards Veronica.
The late nights.
Her quiet compliance.
No complaining…even once.
"She never complained or explained what was going on."
And I…
"I never asked what's going on in her life."
I began to organize things mentally.
I noted the missing steps.
Handled every document myself.
I didn't even ask my assistant to handle any of them, considering before he used to handle most of my work.
I kept track of the type of documents Veronica used to deliver.
All the while keeping an eye on Imelda, who'll she choose now.
I also have to find a way to keep Imelda's authority at bay.
"Imelda, you've used our authority far more than you should have."
"Now…this has to be controlled."
I was still sitting in my chair.
It was midnight.
I was still in the office.
The laptop was still on.
File folders were staring at me.
Imelda has done far more than I ever knew.
And she couldn't have done this alone.
Someone must be backing her.
Now the question was…
Who?