Investigation
769 Words
Emilia had always believed in gathering ammunition before firing a shot.
After placing the call, she resumed her work, outwardly unaffected. But behind the scenes, things were already in motion.
That evening, as she sat in her office reviewing financial reports, a flagged notification popped up from accounting. A routine review of firm expenditures—except one line item caught her attention.
Travel reimbursement – Bruce Clark
Amount: $4,780
Emilia frowned. She knew every major client meeting, every approved expense. She had to—controlling finances was how she kept the firm running efficiently. And yet, there was no reason Bruce should be racking up nearly five grand in “travel” costs, especially not in the last month.
She clicked for details.
Expense breakdown:
• Luxury hotel stay – Two nights
• Fine dining – Multiple charges
• Private car service
None of it made sense. Bruce didn’t handle out-of-town clients. And if this were firm-related, he would have at least mentioned it.
She exhaled slowly, clicking her nails against the desk. One suspicious expense wasn’t proof of anything. But it was something.
And Emilia never ignored something.
The next day, she received an update from her contact—Michael, an ex-cop turned private investigator who owed her a favor.
“Nothing big yet,” he said over the phone. “Bruce is keeping things clean. Meetings, dinners, usual business routines.”
She stared out her office window, watching the city skyline. “You sound like there’s a ‘but’ coming.”
Michael chuckled. “There’s always a ‘but.’ He’s been making a lot of closed-door calls. And one of them was to an offshore account.”
Emilia’s grip on the phone tightened.
“How sure are you?” she asked.
“Got a buddy who works financial security. Traced a call routed through a proxy server. The destination? Bank in the Caymans.”
Emilia’s stomach clenched. Bruce had no reason to be transferring money overseas. Not unless he was moving assets.
Or hiding them.
She forced her voice to remain steady. “I need details, Michael. Dates, transaction history—everything you can get me.”
“I’ll see what I can dig up.” A pause. Then, a quieter tone. “You sure you want to know where this road leads, Clark?”
She stared at her reflection in the glass, her expression unreadable.
“I already know where it leads,” she murmured. “I just need the proof.”
#
Three days later, Michael called.
Emilia answered before the first ring fully ended. “Tell me you have something.”
Michael let out a low breath. “Oh, I have something. And you’re not gonna like it.”
She leaned back in her chair, fingers tightening around her pen. “Go on.”
“Your husband’s been making moves, Clark. Big ones.” A pause. “He’s setting up to walk away with a hell of a payout.”
Her grip tightened. “Explain.”
Michael sighed. “Remember that offshore account I mentioned? Turns out it’s not the only one. He’s been funneling money—small, careful transactions—from firm accounts into a shell corporation under his name. Looks like he’s setting up to pull a lump sum withdrawal soon.”
A cold, controlled fury settled in Emilia’s chest. “How much?”
Michael hesitated, then dropped the number.
Seven million.
Emilia felt something sharp lodge itself in her ribs. Seven million dollars. That was no coincidence. That was a calculated exit strategy.
And Bruce wasn’t planning on leaving empty-handed.
Michael wasn’t done. “That’s not all. The shell company? It’s registered under two names.”
Emilia already knew the answer before he said it.
“Beth Lancaster.”
Silence hung between them.
Bruce wasn’t just stealing. He was doing it with Beth.
Emilia closed her eyes for a brief second, then exhaled. When she spoke again, her voice was sharp, controlled. “Tell me you have proof.”
“Oh, I have proof.” Michael’s voice carried something dark. “Bank statements. Wire transfers. Even a lovely little email chain between Bruce and Beth discussing ‘finalizing the transition.’”
Finalizing.
Bruce had already set the wheels in motion.
He was preparing to take everything.
Emilia’s pulse was steady, her mind already calculating next steps. If Bruce thought she was going to let him walk away with her firm, her money, and his little sidepiece in tow—
He had no idea who he was dealing with.
She sat forward, her voice dangerously calm.
“Send me everything.”
#
- Writer
