Corin’s signature is at the bottom.
Except.
Wait.
I read it again. Then a third time.
The legal phrasing is off. Too formal in places where Corin writes casually. Too casual in places where he’d be precise. And the authorization chain is wrong. Corin wouldn’t bypass foundation protocol for a purchase this size.
I know his writing style by now. I’ve read hundreds of his emails, his memos, his contract annotations.
This isn’t his voice.
But it’s meant to look like it is.
Son of a bitch.
I find Corin in the kitchen. He’s just come from the resort’s gym, judging from his tank top and shorts, and he’s sipping a protein shake while reviewing something on his laptop.
But the way those gym shorts sit on his hips, exposing those corded thighs...oh my god.
And thanks to that tank top, I can see the full cut of his arms, the definition in his chest, and—
Focus, Counselor!
You have actual important information to share.
Stop mentally cataloging Corin’s post-workout muscle groups!
He looks up when I enter.
“Found something.” I slide the memo across his desk. “In one of the emails from the accounting team.”
He picks it up, reads it, and his face goes white.
“He’s planting evidence,” he says quietly. “Framing me as the one pushing displacement.”
“Looks like he still has friends in the foundation,” I comment.
Corin nods.
“The legal phrasing doesn’t match your style,” I point out. “Anyone who’s worked with you would notice.”
“But the press won’t. The board won’t. Not until it’s too late.” He sets the memo down like it might bite him. “He’s building leverage. I’ve been constructing a case against him for the embezzlement and the previously falsified documents. This is his counter-move. Mutually assured destruction.”
I sink into the chair across from him. “So if you expose him for embezzlement, he exposes you for land-grabbing. Except his version is fabricated.”
“Exactly. And the land deals are real. He’s been quietly buying options through shell companies, planning to flip them to developers once the clinic destabilizes. If families start panic-selling out of fear, he profits while my reputation burns.”
I shake my head in disbelief. “He’s holding the community hostage to save himself.”
He nods. “Essentially.”
I sit with that for a moment, letting the rage settle into something cold and useful.
This is what you do.
You find the weak spots.
