Chapter 8: The Person Behind the Door
I spent the next forty-eight hours investigating everyone.
Not because I wanted to suspect people.
Because I couldn't afford not to.
Trust had become something dangerous.
Daniel called an emergency meeting with the executive team.
The atmosphere was tense.
Everyone knew something serious had happened.
I stood at the front of the conference room.
"We discovered unauthorized access to confidential information.""
Nobody spoke.
"We don't know who is responsible yet.""
The executives exchanged nervous looks.
Then Mark Collins, our chief financial officer, spoke.
"Claire, are you suggesting someone here leaked information?""
"I am saying we need facts.""
He nodded.
"Agreed.""
The meeting continued for an hour.
Security reports.
Access logs.
Communication records.
Every detail mattered.
Afterward, Daniel stayed behind.
"You look exhausted.""
I smiled slightly.
"That obvious?""
"Yes.""
I sat down.
"Daniel, did you ever think I was too trusting?""
He looked surprised.
"Why would you ask that?""
"Because maybe I was.""
He shook his head.
"Being kind isn't the problem.""
"Then what is?""
"Giving people unlimited chances.""
I looked away.
Because he was right.
That evening, Victoria sent another update.
The insider wasn't random.
The person had access to confidential financial reports.
Only senior employees had that level of clearance.
I read the list.
Five names.
My heart sank.
Because one name shocked me.
Mark Collins.
My CFO.
The man who had worked beside me for six years.
The man who knew every major decision before anyone else.
I immediately called Daniel.
"Did you see the list?""
"Yes.""
"What do you think?""
A pause.
"I think we need evidence before we accuse anyone.""
I agreed.
The next morning, we monitored internal activity.
Then we found something.
A transfer.
Not money.
Information.
Someone had sent confidential files to an external account.
The recipient?
A company connected to Richard Whitmore.
I stared at the screen.
"Who approved the access?""
The security director looked uncomfortable.
"Mark Collins.""
I felt my stomach drop.
But before I could process it, my assistant called.
"Claire?""
Her voice sounded nervous.
"There is someone here to see you.""
"Who?""
A pause.
"Julian.""
I closed my eyes.
"Send him in.""
My brother entered looking worse than before.
This time, he wasn't carrying excuses.
He was carrying fear.
"I know about Mark.""
I froze.
"What?""
He sat down.
"Richard told me.""
"When?""
"Before the wedding.""
I stared at him.
"You knew?""
"I didn't know he was actually doing it.""
"Julian.""
My voice became cold.
"You knew enough.""
He looked down.
"I thought it was just business.""
"Business?""
I stood.
"You were helping someone steal from me.""
"I know.""
"No.""
I pointed at the door.
"You still don't understand.""
He looked at me.
"You weren't just helping him hurt my company.""
I took a breath.
"You helped him prove I could be betrayed by the people closest to me.""
His eyes filled with tears.
For once, he didn't defend himself.
He just sat there.
Broken.
Then he reached into his pocket.
"I brought this.""
He placed a small envelope on my desk.
"What is it?""
"Proof.""
I opened it carefully.
Inside were printed messages between Richard and Mark.
My hands tightened as I read.
They had been planning for months.
They weren't just trying to get information.
They were preparing a takeover.
Then I saw one final message.
A message from Richard.
*After the wedding disaster, Claire will be emotional. That's when we approach. She will either sell or lose control.*
I stared at the words.
They thought breaking me would make me easier to control.
But they made one mistake.
They reminded me exactly who I was.
Julian stood.
"Claire.""
I looked at him.
"I'm sorry.""
For the first time, I believed he meant it.
But forgiveness wasn't the same as forgetting.
Before he left, he turned around.
"There's something else.""
I frowned.
"What now?""
His face became serious.
"Richard isn't waiting anymore.""
"Why?""
"Because he knows you found out.""
I felt a chill.
"And?""
May you like
Julian whispered:
"He is coming after you.""
