“He’d be stupid to try that again, less than two weeks after the whole lunch debacle. If he’s smart, he’ll have someone kill you. Either running you off the road or a sniper so that he can maintain his innocence.” Azula nods to herself as if either plan would be foolproof.
“Well, it's a good thing you’re on my side and not his. Or else I’d already be six feet under.” I bring my attention back to the series of spreadsheets open on my computer.
I’d spent the past two hours backtracking our shipmentsfor the past six months and one thing was glaringly clear: my numbers weren’t adding up. At first, I thought it had to be my own error. A formula being miscalculated or numbers being misentered. But I hadn’t made any mistakes. As I meticulously combed through the spreadsheet over a dozen times, one thing was evident. We were in the red. Even though we had no reason to be.
None of our staff had reported any damage to the shipments, which means we had either miscounted how many computer chips and guns we’d had to send off and sell to make a profit or one of our own soldiers had stolen from us. The first option is unlikely given the amount of times myself and Declan’s staff crunched all the numbers and projected estimates to be sure everything was in line, which left me with option two. Dammit. As if there isn’t enough on my plate, I now have to track down a rat who was stupid enough to cross me.
My eyes shut in defeat and I pinch the bridge of my nose between my fingers. “Tell Declan I’ll meet with him tomorrow at noon. And to not be late.”
“Wow, I didn't expect you to cave so easily. I guess I’m more intimidating than I thought.” A prideful look covers Azula’s face.
“You’re absolutely terrifying, but my decision to meet with Declan comes out of necessity.” I turn my monitor around so she can see it.
Azula cocks her head to the side for a moment, taking in the various columns, numbers, and totals. “Shit…is this saying what I think it is?”
“Someone’s stealing from us. Likely someone from the inside, since they were smart enough only to take small enough amounts that it would have gone unnoticed in the moment. But over the course of six months, the stolen supplieshave cost us tens of thousands of dollars. If not more. I need to tell Declan about this.” The universe trying to bring us together when I’m doing my best to avoid him is incredibly ironic. I suppose that’s why the saying goes, ‘We make plans and God laughs’. Except this time, it seems like Declan has gotten the last laugh.
“Any chance that this could also be him? Maybe the supplies haven't been stolen, and instead he’s just taking a bigger cut of the pie?”
“Unlikely. I received a call from Damon, the Scottish boss, who’s been one of our best customers for the past five years. He called me directly, asking when the remaining shipments would arrive since they’ve been getting some threats from the local street gangs near them. I asked him how many he received in the most recent package we delivered a few days ago and they were clearly ten guns short of what we’d originally sent. I’m having Cyrus hand deliver an extra fifteen, five extra on us, as we speak.”
“Dammit.”
“My thoughts exactly. I wanted to double-check that we hadn’t miscalculated anything, but all the receipts and logs of what we sent confirm that 300 guns left our warehouse and arrived at the delivery center.”
“So it was one of our foot soldiers then? Should be easy enough to track them down and remind them who they’ve crossed.” Azula pulls a knife from the holder on her thigh and checks her reflection in it.
“Our distribution center in Los Angeles is one of our biggest. Between our people and the Irish, we have at least a thousand staff working there. It could’ve been any of them. Given they’d gone undetected for months now, they must know all the blind spots of the building.”
“Just send me out there and I’ll have the traitor pissing his own pants in a matter of minutes,” she seethes.
I don’t doubt her words. But I don’t want to be the type of boss that leads with fear. I want respect. And respect would come with tracking down the traitor myself, exposing him, and demonstrating not only my physical power but also my mental strength.
“I promise to let you have your fun with him, whoever he ends up being. But I want to take a stab at finding him first. Without having to immediately resort to threats.”
“You can take the first stab as long as I get the other twenty that follow.” Azula licks her teeth with her tongue.
“That isnotwhat I meant.”
“Why not? There’s few things that give me as much joy as feeling a man bleed under me.”
“You’re an incredibly deranged individual.” I love her regardless, but it has to be said.
Azula places a hand on her chest. “Oh, Zahra, you say the kindest things to me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Just get the meeting with Declan set up, will you? The more I think about this mess, the more my blood boils.”
“Don’t worry, you’ll figure it out. You always do.” Azula gives me one final reassuring smile before heading out of my office.
Though I appreciate her vote of confidence, I’m not quite sure I deserve it. I just hope I’ll live long enough to prove her right. To prove to everyone that I am worthy of taking over for my father. To prove to myself that I can handle being the boss.
____
Arman knocks on my door, causing my back to stiffen. “Your guest has arrived,” he announces.
“Thank you. Send him in.” I close all the excess files on my computer screen, leaving only the ones that Declan needs to see. Mainly, the long list of evidence that points to someone stealing from us.
Arman grimaces, his shoulders tensing, while chewing on his lip. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this nervous before. The head of my father’s security had always been a brick wall. Sure, he may have joked around with me as a kid and treated me like a pseudo niece, but anxious was not an expression I’d ever seen on him before.
