A Signature That Bound Us

Chapter Nine

Aurelia’s POV

For a moment, neither of us moved. Then he picked up his lunch and sat at the table, “five minutes,” he said. “Then we’re back to work,” I shook my head slightly and joined him. The food was better than I had expected, I had barely taken three bites when I noticed that he had moved the bottle of water closer to my side of the table. It was such a small gesture that I almost missed it, he continued reading an email on his phone as though he hadn’t done anything. I decided not to comment, some battles weren’t worth fighting, particularly when the other person seemed determined to win even the ones nobody had started.

When we returned to the desk, I reopened the supplementary document list. “There’s something else,” I said.

Lior looked up from his computer, “what now?”

“The document’s reference begins with a code I haven’t seen anywhere else in the acquisition file. It doesn’t match the numbering pattern used for the original agreement or the first two payment approvals.”

“Meaning?”

“It may have been generated by another department or added through a separate workflow, I can’t determine which without the document history.”

“Request it.”

“I already have,” he stared at me. “While you were reading the correspondence.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You were reading the correspondence sir.”

His expression suggested that I had personally arranged the world’s most irritating inconvenience, “next time, inform me before you take action.”

“I submitted a request through the authorized system, I didn’t access anything outside my permissions.”

“That isn’t the point.”

“Then what is the point?”

“The point, Miss Laurent, is that I decide how this investigation proceeds.”

I swallowed the response that rose to my tongue, he was my employer. I needed the job, and I wasn’t going to jeopardize it simply because he enjoyed turning every conversation into a contest of authority. “Understood sir,” I said. “I’ll keep you informed.”

He seemed almost disappointed that I hadn’t argued further, “good, now compare the dates on the approval trail with the dates on the payment vouchers. I want to know whether the sequence makes sense.”

I worked through the entries carefully, checking each date against the relevant document. The first payment had been approved before the service agreement was signed, that was not necessarily improper, preliminary approvals could exist, provided the final authorization followed the required process. The second payment had been approved after the stated milestone date, the

third had been approved before the second payment was processed, despite appearing later in the acquisition summary. I checked the sequence again, then I checked the original records. “Mr. Vale?” He looked up, “the chronology doesn’t match the order presented in the acquisition summary.”

“Be specific,” I showed him the dates, he moved beside me to examine the screen. His shoulder came close to mine, and I caught the faint scent of his cologne. I shifted slightly to make room, annoyed with myself for noticing something so irrelevant. He didn’t appear to notice, “could

the summary have been compiled later?” he asked.

“Yes sir, that could explain the order, but it wouldn’t explain why the third payment was approved before the second was processed. We need the underlying authorization dates, not just the dates displayed in the summary.”

He studied the entries, “print the chronology.” I did, he took the pages and compared them against the documents on his desk. I watched his expression as he moved from one date to the next, then his phone rang. He answered immediately, “yes?” He paused, “no, I asked for the access history, not a summary of the current status.” He waited for a response from the other end, “who submitted the restriction request?” I looked down at my notes, pretending not to listen, Lior’s face had become completely still. “Read the name again,” he listened. “When?” He waited again, “send me the complete audit trail. Don’t forward it to the acquisition team, send it directly to me.” With that, he ended the call. He placed his phone on the desk, picked up the chronology I had printed, and read it again.

“Mr. Vale?”

“What is it?”

“Did they locate the document?”

“They located the record of a change.”

My attention sharpened, “what kind of change?”

“The access status was altered.”

“By whom?”

He looked at me and I couldn’t tell whether the anger in his eyes was directed at me, the person on the other end of that phone call, or something much closer to home. “That information is not part of your assignment.”

“But the change affects the document I’m investigating,” I protested.

“And I will decide what information you need.”

I pressed my lips together, I wanted to argue, every instinct told me that withholding the identity of the person who had restricted the document would make the investigation unnecessarily difficult but I also understood something else… Lior was no longer treating the matter as a routine acquisition review. Someone had changed the record’s status, and he had just learned when it happened. Perhaps he even knew who had done it, I returned to my chair. “What would you like me to do next sir?”

He watched me for a moment before answering, “prepare a separate chronology of the three payments. Include every date, reference number, approval code, and department involved. I want a document that can withstand scrutiny.”

“When do you need it?”

“Tonight.”

I checked the time, it was already past five, “tonight as in before I leave the office, or tonight as in you expect me to work beyond my scheduled hours?”

His expression cooled, “is there a reason you can’t complete it?”

“No sir, I asked because I wanted to understand the deadline.”

“Then you have your answer,” I looked at him, then at the records spread across the desk. I could finish the chronology, it would take time, but the task was straightforward. I would do it because the work mattered, because I needed the experience, and because I wasn’t going to let Lior’s attitude distract me from the opportunity I had fought to secure.

“Fine,” I said. “I’ll prepare it.”

“Good,” he said, going back to his computer. I had barely begun when his phone rang again, this time, he didn’t answer immediately. He glanced at the screen, and something on his face changed. “I’m listening,” the voice on the other end was too faint for me to understand. He stood and walked toward the windows, “are you certain? Who authorized it?” I saw his fingers tightened around the phone, “don’t touch anything else. Preserve the original logs and send me the full report.” When he turned around, the man who had ordered me to prepare a chronology was gone. In his place stood someone whose composure looked less like confidence and more like a lid being held down over something dangerous. “Miss Laurent, stop what you’re doing.”

I looked up, “why?”

“Because the record you were trying to access was not simply moved to another file.”

I slowly put down my pen, “what happened to it?”

His gaze was fixed on mine, “the restriction was requested three days before you were assigned to review this acquisition.”

My stomach tightened, “by someone who knew the record existed?”

“Yes.”

“Someone in the company?” He didn’t answer immediately, then he crossed to his desk, opened the report his assistant had just sent, and turned the screen toward me. A single line was highlighted in red, “RESTRICTION REQUEST APPROVED BY: DAVID VALE.” That was Lior’s father, I looked at him, waiting for him to tell me there was an innocent explanation, that the restriction had been routine, that I was reading too much into a name.

Instead, Lior closed the report, “not one word about this leaves this office.” His voice was quiet, but there was nothing calm about it.

I stared at him, “Mr. Vale, if your father authorized the restriction, shouldn’t he be asked why?”

His eyes flashed, “you’ll not involve my father in your questions.”

“But his name is on the authorization.”

“And I can read, Miss Laurent.”

“Then you understand why I asked.”

He stepped closer to the desk, “your job is to establish what happened to those payments, not to investigate my family.”

“I can’t separate the two if the records are connected,” I stated.

“You can, and you will.”

I stood, gathering my notes. “Then tell me which parts of the evidence I’m allowed to acknowledge and which parts I’m expected to ignore.”

His face hardened, “be very careful.” He warned, for the first time, I wondered whether the danger in this assignment came from the missing documents… or from the fact that someone powerful had a reason to keep them missing. He picked up the printed chronology and placed it in a drawer, “finish your report, send it directly to me. You will not contact Records Management again without my authorization.”

I hesitated, “understood sir.”

“Then go back to work,” I turned toward the door.

“Aurelia,” he called, his voice had changed again. It wasn’t exactly warm but the hostility had receded for a moment. “Don’t stay here all night. Finish the chronology, and if you can’t complete it by six, tell my assistant what remains.”

I looked at him, surprised by the unexpected concession. “Thank you, Mr. Vale.”

His expression immediately closed, “don’t thank me. I need accurate work, and exhausted employees make mistakes.” Of course, I wasn’t expecting anything less, I left his office with my notes held tightly against my chest.

By the time I returned to my desk, I had made one decision… I would finish the chronology exactly as instructed, I would record the facts, preserve the evidence, and make no accusations I couldn’t support. I needed this job too much to be reckless but I needed to know the truth even more, I was about to leave when I got an email from Records Management. The recovered approval document carried David Vale’s signature, but something else caught my attention… a note attached to the file.

“Further documentation transferred to the Chairman’s private office.”

I took the printout to Lior, he read it, and his expression hardened. “Where did you get this?”

“Records Management sent it to me.”

He reached for his phone, “cancel my evening appointments. I’m going to my father’s office.”

I hesitated. “Should I come with you sir?”

“No,” he snatched his jacket from the chair, then paused at the door. “Actually, Miss Laurent, you’re coming with me.”

I stared at him. “To your father’s office?”

He gave me a cold look, “you wanted to know what happened to those records, now you can find out.”

Then he opened the door and walked out, leaving me to follow, I had no idea what awaited us, but one thing was certain… whatever David Vale had kept in his private office was important enough for his son to interrupt his entire evening to retrieve it.