Chapter 4 - The Audit Begins
By 11:00 PM, the storm outside had reached blizzard status, howling against the reinforced glass of the carriage house like an army of ghosts. Inside, the atmosphere was dangerously domestic.
We sat across from each other at the heavy oak table, eating slices of my almond tart off antique porcelain plates while Mrs. O'Malley retired to her quarters upstairs with a quiet blessing for a peaceful night.
"So," Nico said, taking a bite of the tart, his expression one of genuine appreciation. "If we are going to fix your employment situation, we need to talk about Julian Cross and Brenda Mercer."
I choked slightly on my cider, setting my fork down. "Fix my employment situation? Mr. Vale, Brenda fired me, and Julian shredded my audit log. Without those physical pages, I have no proof that they've been running ghost invoices through the vendor system."
Nico reached into the inner pocket of his waistcoat and pulled out a slim, pristine manila folder, sliding it across the polished wood of the table.
I stared at it. "What is this?"
"A complete forensic accounting audit of Winter & Rye Bakery, covering the last fourteen months," Nico said evenly. "My financial analytics team has been reviewing the commercial leasehold and vendor distribution networks in Beacon Hill since November. Winter & Rye is a subsidiary holding of a shell corporation registered in the Cayman Islands. A shell corporation managed by Vale Harbor Holdings."
My jaw dropped. "You... you own the building?"
"I own the mortgage, the commercial land title, and the controlling shares of the holding company that employs Brenda Mercer," Nico corrected, taking a sip of his cider. "Brenda is a middle-manager with a gambling habit at Encore Boston Harbor. Julian Cross is an unlicensed junior accountant who has been using company credit lines to cover his personal debts since August."
I stared at the folder, then up at Nico, my mind spinning. "You knew about this before tonight?"
"I knew they were bleeding the bakery dry," Nico admitted, his gaze steady. "I was waiting for the right moment to clean house. Your little confrontation tonight merely accelerated the timeline."
"And my notebook?" I asked, my heart skipping a beat. "Julian tore the pages out. They're gone."
Nico reached into his coat pocket a second time and pulled out a crisp, perfectly flattened set of three hotel stationery pages covered in my handwriting.
I blinked rapidly. "Where did you get those?"
"When Julian threw your notebook into the utility sink, he neglected to realize that my security detail—who accompany me everywhere, including my Friday evening visits to your bakery—had already secured a high-resolution optical scan of every ledger page you produced during the audit," Nico said, a faint, dangerous smile touching his lips. "My men are very thorough, Clara. Nothing happens in Beacon Hill without my knowledge. Especially not inside a building I own."
I looked down at the recovered pages, then back at Nico. The fear that had gripped my chest all evening began to dissolve, replaced by a fierce, electric surge of vindication.
"They think they've won," I whispered. "By morning, they'll probably file a police report claiming I stole the six thousand dollars."
"Let them," Nico said, his voice dropping into a low, velvet purr that promised absolute destruction for anyone foolish enough to cross him. "By ten o’clock tomorrow morning—Christmas Eve day—Brenda Mercer and Julian Cross will be sitting in a holding room at the Boston Police Department explaining to federal investigators why they forged corporate tax documents on a federally insured property."
May you like
He reached across the table, his strong fingers wrapping around my hand, calloused from years of kneading dough and lifting flour sacks.
"And you, Clara," Nico said softly, his thumb tracing the back of my hand. "Will be the new majority owner and executive director of Winter & Rye Bakery."
