If only I could. I’d spent days buried in code, tracing every line the company had written in the last six months. Thattrail had led me somewhere I hadn’t expected, straight into accounting.
At first, it looked like a minor glitch, just a misrouted invoice. A formatting glitch. But when I dug deeper, the patterns started forming. Same vendor name, slightly altered account numbers, just enough to slip past casual eyes. Payments that shouldn’t exist but did. It didn’t make sense.
Now I couldn’t unsee it.
I’d double-checked, triple-checked. Trying to convince myself it was a system error.
It wasn’t.
Someone had buried fraudulent transactions inside legitimate data streams. Subtle, professional, and intentional. What hadn't been mentioned in the meeting I just walked out of but they already knew was, it had to be someone internal. There were no signs of an outside hack. This was coming from inside the building.
Micah studied me, his easy smile faltering. “You’ve got that look.”
“What look?”
“The one you get when you find something that doesn’t add up.” He nudged the folder I’d slammed down earlier. “That what this is?”
I pressed my lips together. “Can’t talk about it,” I said again, softer this time.
He raised both brows. “Can’t, or won’t?”
“Can we talk about something else?” I pleaded as I took another drink of my tea, anything to buy myself a second of normalcy.
It was a miracle I’d gotten anything done this week after Saturday.
Micah’s voice dropped, teasing but careful. “You heard from him again?”
“Damn it, Micah.” I didn’t want to talk about that either.
The memory slammed into me before I could push it away.
Saturday night, afterSiruntied me, my body still trembling, he’d lowered me to the floor and pulled me against him. I hadn’t even realized I was crying until he brushed his thumb across my cheek. A bottle pressed to my lips. “Drink, Little one,” he’d murmured. The cool water grounded me in a way I hadn’t expected.
He’d held me until the shaking eased, his fingers tracing lazy circles over my tattoo on my wrist, his voice a low hum of praise. When I could finally breathe again, he’d lifted me and carried me somewhere else. The faint scent of cedar and something darker clung to him.
The warm bathwater had stung at first, but then the ache turned to something softer—relief, maybe. My mind drifted, numb, not racing. Peace.
I’d thought the blindfold coming off would mean seeing him.
It hadn’t.
When I blinked my eyes open, it wasn’tSirwho stood there. It was Candy and Missy.
They had bathed and dressed me, then put me in the car I should have taken to the club and told me someone would deliver my car in the morning. I hadn’t even thought about the fact that I wouldn’t be able to drive home. I hadn’t even realized how spent I was until I woke the next afternoon, sunlight spilling across the bed and every muscle still aching.
“Earth to Mira.” Micah’s hand waved in front of my face.
I blinked hard, dragging myself back to the present.
“Sorry,” I muttered, setting my tea down before I dropped it. “Long night.”
Micah tilted his head, studying me with that familiar mix of curiosity and concern I both needed and hated at the same time. “You look like you’ve been somewhere else entirely.”
I forced a laugh. “You have no idea.”
His phone buzzed. He frowned and sighed. “I’ve got to go. Duty calls. You sure opened up a huge can of worms.”
He leaned over and kissed my cheek.
