He gestured toward the man with him. “We need to speak with you about some transactions you’ve cleared.”
“Okay.” My stomach was in knots as I pointed toward a conference room that was available to the building’s tenants. “We can ask Carl if we can talk in there.”
“Carl?” he echoed, his brows drawing together.
“The security guard,” I explained before walking over to the reception desk to confirm the conference room was available. I was relieved when he passed me the key. The last thing I wanted was to bring these men up to my office. I had no idea which transactions they wanted to discuss, but I didn’t want to raise any red flags with my boss. Avoiding that until I knew more about what was going on seemed like a good plan.
They followed me into the room, and I took the chair nearest the door, my knees feeling a little weak. “What’s going on?”
The younger one smiled without warmth. “We’re with CFPB. Just a routine inquiry. Nothing formal. This won’t take long.”
Having someone from the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau stop by with questions about transactions I cleared was something you couldn’t exactly plan for. When I was hired, Mr. Hopkins warned me about how stressful audits were, but he never mentioned what to expect if they stopped by to speak with you specifically.
“I hope not because I need to clock in soon.” Assuming I hadn’t messed up so badly that I lost my job this morning.
The older one opened a slim leather folio. “We’ve been reviewing certain patterns. Several flagged transactions cleared through your queue over the past few weeks.”
I swallowed the sudden lump in my throat. “That’s my job. I’m a junior compliance assistant. I review flags, follow supervisor guidance, and approve if there are no escalation indicators.”
The younger guy leaned forward. “And you found no escalation indicators on any of these?”
I skimmed the list he shoved in front of me. “No, everything lined up with the client profile. And the amounts were so low, I honestly thought it was a glitch. I couldn’t find any reason that they raised any red flags in the first place.”
“Interesting.” The older one tucked the report back in his folio. “Those transactions originated from accounts tied to entities we’re actively monitoring. The kind that usually trigger deeper review.”
My mouth went dry. “I-I didn’t see anything that indicated risk. My supervisor’s protocol was clear. If it’s routine and documented, approve.”
The younger one tilted his head. “You’re saying you never questioned the pattern?”
I shook my head. “I’m not an investigator. I just follow the rules I’m given.”
They got to their feet, and the older one flashed me an insincere smile. “Of course. We’re not suggesting misconduct. Just curiosity. A junior analyst clearing high-volume flags without escalation could look like negligence. Or worse.”
The implication was obvious. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
“That’s what we’re trying to determine.” The younger guy reached for the door. “We’ll be in touch if we need to speak again.”
They left the conference room, but I sat there for a full minute, my hands shaking in my lap. It wasn’t until I stood that I realized something many of the transactions they asked about had in common—they were for businesses owned by the Hounds of Hellfire.
Before I went to my office, I sent a quick text to Colter.
Me
Can you pick me up at four? I’m going to work through lunch so I can leave an hour early.
Luckily, dots popped up right away, letting me know he was typing out his response.
Colter
Of course, baby.
The rest of the day passed in a blur of fear. For my job, Colter, and his club. By four, I was a wreck.
I rushed out of the office and found him waiting at the curb in his SUV. As soon as I slid into the passenger seat, he took one look at my face, and softness wiped from his expression. “What happened?”
I burst into tears.
He pulled me across the console onto his lap, one hand cradling the back of my head while I sobbed against his neck.
