Vivian didn't sleep.
She sat on her couch with the lights off, the journal in her lap, her phone in her hand. Every few minutes, she looked out the window.
The street was empty. No black sedan. No idling engine. Just the flickering light of the broken streetlamp and the distant sound of traffic.
At 2:00 AM, she finally closed her eyes.
At 3:00 AM, she gave up.
She showered, dressed, and left for the office at 5:30. The subway was almost empty. A homeless man slept on a bench at the end of the car. A woman in scrubs stared at nothing.
Vivian watched the reflections in the dark windows.
No one is following you, she told herself. You're being paranoid.
But she didn't believe it.
The Sterling Group tower was quiet at 6:00 AM.
The security guard nodded as she swiped her badge. The express elevator was empty. The forty-eighth floor was dark.
She turned on the lights at her desk and spread out the files from yesterday. Contracts. Invoices. Transfer requests. Page after page of numbers that were supposed to add up.
She found the first discrepancy at 6:47.
A transfer of $500,000 from a subsidiary called Sterling Logistics to a company registered in the Cayman Islands. The name on the paperwork: D.S. Holdings.
D.S. Derek Sterling.
Vivian set the page aside and kept going.
At 7:30, she found another. This one for $750,000. Same subsidiary. Same destination. Different date.
At 8:15, a third. $1.2 million.
She stacked them in a pile, her heart pounding. By 9:00, she had seven pages. Almost $5 million in transfers over eighteen months.
"You're here early."
She looked up.
Lucian stood in the doorway of his office, still in his suit from yesterday, his tie loose around his neck. He looked exhausted.
"I couldn't sleep," she said.
"Neither could I." He walked to her desk and looked at the pile. "What did you find?"
She handed him the pages.
He read them in silence. His expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened.
"Derek's signature?" she asked.
"Not his signature. His initials. D.S. He's been using them for years." He set the pages down. "This is good. But it's not enough."
"What do we need?"
"Proof that he authorized the transfers. Proof that the money went into his personal accounts. Proof that he threatened your father." He looked at her. "We need something that can't be explained away."
"Where do we find that?"
"His office. His personal computer. His safe." Lucian's voice was low. "But we can't just walk in and ask."
"So what do we do?"
"We wait. We watch. And we don't let him know we're watching."
At 9:30, Karen arrived.
She stopped when she saw Vivian at her desk. "You're here early again."
"I like to get a head start."
"On what?" Karen's eyes flicked to the pile of papers. "What are those?"
"Old files. Lucian asked me to organize them."
"Lucian asked you." Karen's smile was thin. "He's been asking you to do a lot of things lately."
"That's my job."
"Is it?" She stepped closer. "Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you're doing a lot more than answering phones and fetching coffee."
Vivian held her gaze. "If you have a problem with my work, you can take it up with Lucian."
Karen's eyes narrowed. "Watch yourself, Vivian. This building has a way of chewing people up and spitting them out."
She walked away.
Vivian's hands were shaking. But she didn't look down.
At 11:00, Lucian called her into his office.
"Close the door."
She did.
He was standing by the window, his back to her. The morning light made his silhouette look sharp and cold.
"Karen is going to be a problem," he said.
"She already is."
"I know." He turned. "I've been meaning to tell you something. About her."
"What?"
"Her father is Derek's business partner. Not officially. But they've been working together for years." He walked toward her. "If Derek finds out what we're doing, Karen will be the one to tell him."
"Then why is she still here?"
"Because I can't fire her without a reason. And because watching her is the best way to watch Derek." He stopped in front of her. "But you need to be careful. She's not stupid. And she's already suspicious of you."
"She's jealous."
"She's threatened." He tilted his head. "There's a difference."
Vivian looked up at him. "And you? Are you threatened?"
"By Karen?" He almost smiled. "No."
"By me."
The air between them shifted.
Lucian didn't answer. He just looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable.
"You should get back to work," he said finally.
"You should get some sleep," she replied.
"Maybe later."
She turned to leave.
"Vivian."
She paused.
"Be careful. With Karen. With Derek. With everyone." His voice was quiet. "I can't protect you if you don't protect yourself."
She nodded and walked out.
At 3:00 PM, her phone buzzed.
A text from an unknown number.
You're getting close. Too close.
Vivian's blood ran cold.
Who is this?
Someone who wants to help. Meet me at the coffee shop on 47th and Lex. 4:00. Come alone.
She stared at the screen. Trap, she thought. It's a trap.
But if it wasn't…
She looked at Lucian's office door. Closed. He was on a call.
She grabbed her coat and left.
The coffee shop was small and crowded, the kind of place where no one looked at anyone else. Vivian ordered a black coffee and sat in the corner.
At 4:00 exactly, a woman sat down across from her.
She was in her fifties, with gray-streaked hair and tired eyes. She wore a plain coat and carried a worn leather bag.
"You're Vivian Wei," the woman said.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Margaret. I used to work for Derek Sterling." She looked around, then leaned closer. "I was his secretary. For twelve years."
Vivian's heart pounded. "What do you want?"
"I want to help you." Margaret reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope. "These are copies of files I kept. Emails. Memos. Transfer requests. Everything Derek thought he deleted."
"Why are you giving them to me?"
"Because I've been waiting five years for someone to ask questions." Her eyes were wet. "Thomas Sterling was a good man. Your father was a good man. They didn't deserve what happened to them."
Vivian's hands shook as she took the envelope. "Why didn't you go to the police?"
"Because Derek owns the police. In this city, he owns almost everything." Margaret stood up. "Read the files. Then decide what to do."
She walked away.
Vivian sat in the corner, the envelope in her hands, her heart racing.
This is it, she thought. This is the proof.
She opened the envelope.
The first page was a memo. Dated six years ago. From Derek Sterling to an unnamed recipient.
"Thomas knows too much. Handle it."
Below it, a handwritten note: Accident. Black ice.
Vivian closed the envelope and stood up.
She had to get back to the office. She had to show Lucian.
She walked out of the coffee shop and turned the corner.
And stopped.
The black sedan from last night was parked across the street.
The engine was running.
End of Chapter Seven