Chapter 2
1118 Words
Mia POV
"Fraud? I'd never do anything like that."
"Well, we have evidence to show that you used your company accounts to commit fraud."
"They're my company's accounts. Why would I commit fraud?" I echoed slowly, trying not to let my voice tremble. "I'm not understanding. What exactly are you accusing me of?"
"You'll be able to tell us when you get here, Miss Lawrenson," the detective told me. "Or we can play it the ugly way. Search, seizure, freeze assets. Your call."
My mouth went dry. "Wait, please—"
Click.
The second call that morning was unceremoniously cut off.
I was still staring at the phone as if it might yield a different answer when the intercom buzzed.
I jumped.
"Yes?" I said, my voice raspy.
My assistant's voice, cheerful and unaware, came through the line. "Hi, Mia. Just a heads-up, Alexander Anderson's team is asking for the latest financials from the company. He's reviewing beforehand for the 11 AM time slot, and he's giving you another hour to send over the full breakdown."
I was silent.
"Mia? Do I let him know it's on its way?"
I gazed at my screen.
Everything was wrong. Nothing balanced. If I sent him those reports now, there'd be more red flags than at a Russian parade.
"No," I croaked. "I—I-uh—just hold off."
I hung up and leaned back in my chair, staring at the spreadsheet in front of me like it would magically fix itself.
I had nothing to show Alexander. Nothing that wouldn't make him run in the other direction.
Then the phone rang again.
Same blocked number.
I took it with a shaky breath. "Hello?"
It was a different voice. It was male and not friendly.
"This is Officer Briggs with the Financial Crimes Division. You were called in. You didn't show up. A unit is headed to your office for seizure protocol as we speak. Cooperate, or it escalates a level."
I barely had time to process it before the front doors swung open from what I could see in the display screen that showed me everything going on.
I rushed to the glass wall of my office and watched as two officers in uniform pulled out badges. They came in together with my assistant whose mouth was open.
From downstairs, I could see paparazzi. Phones were already in hand. Cameras clicking away. I saw the word "fraud" form on one reporter's lips before my vision blurred.
I didn't remember much after that, just that I was flanked on both sides and marched straight out of my building, my coat still draped over my chair and my dignity trailing behind me like toilet paper on a shoe.
Paparazzi swooped like vultures going to eat a carcass when I stepped out of the building with the officers.
"Mia! Are the charges true?"
"Did you fake the bankruptcy?"
"Is Lawrenson & Co. a scam?"
I was gently but firmly pushed into the backseat of a black sedan.
I was not on cuffs, but the pressure on me?
Damn.
*+*+*+*+
I sat in the lobby like a criminal, people walking past me pretending not to stare. My fists were still clenched around my phone, screen off, heart racing like it was desperate to escape my chest.
Finally, after what felt like hours but was probably less than a quarter of an hour—a woman opened the door and called my name.
I stood, trying not to wobble in my heels.
I reached the entrance just as a person came out.
He was tall and had broad shoulders, walking in that irritating way rich men walk, as if the ground owes them. I wasn't looking where I was going, and we collided shoulders.
"Oh—sorry, I didn't see you—" I started.
The man turned to me, a smile tugging at his lips, but his eyes were condescending in every manner.
"Your eyes are nice," he said. "But they don't work."
I stared, humiliated. He was already turning to leave.
Who the hell?
I shrugged it off and entered.
Two agents were seated across a table covered with files. There was an open laptop and a large envelope with my name typed on it.
"Sit," one of them said to me.
I did.
“We’re going to go over everything, Miss Lawrenson,” the woman on the left began. “The documents suggest you’ve been moving company funds through offshore accounts, evading federal tax obligations, and misreporting quarterly earnings for two fiscal periods.”
I blinked. “I—what? No. That’s not—none of that’s true.”
She raised an eyebrow.
"The theory is simple. You bleed the company dry, file for bankruptcy, sell off the assets at salvage value, and walk away with whatever you've hidden overseas. We've seen it before."
"That's not what happened," I said, voice strained.
The male agent clicked something on the laptop.
"We'll see."
We spent the next hour going over records.
Wire transfers, backlogs. Audit reports I hadn't even signed off on.
Nothing made sense until there was a call.
The woman took it, nodded silently, then glanced at her partner.
"They subpoenaed the Cayman accounts. Got the metadata."
She glanced at me.
"Your CFO made the transactions."
I froze.
Jason.
Jason, who did the books when I was away. Jason, who had all the passwords. Jason, who promised to keep everything going smoothly.
Jason. My cousin.
The wind was knocked out of me. I did not even have the strength to think through the betrayal.
"Miss Lawrenson," the man said, "you're free to go for now. But we may call you again pending further investigation."
I nodded and stood up, almost falling.
I said nothing as I was escorted from the building.
They'd taken my car, my driver and my security clearance.
I stepped into the street and flagged a taxi like I was nobody.
Which, at the time, I was.
*+*+*+*+*+**++*
The trip was silent.
Jason had ruined everything.
The one thing my father had left me. His name, his reputation and his company.
Gone.
I clenched my teeth, blinking several times. There was no time for tears.
I would inform Alexander of what was going on. That was my final option. If he too backed out, it was over.
The taxi stopped before Anderson Tower,
I rushed in, heels clicking fast, chest tight, eyes burning. I reached the reception desk and gave my name.
The receptionist looked up at me with a smile that did not extend beyond her eyes.
"I apologize," she said with a fake smile. "Mr. Anderson requested the documents within the hour. That hour has elapsed.
- Writer
