A RIVAL ALREADY?
844 Words
CHAPTER TWO:
The room felt darker. The surrounding air spun slowly like the world had tilted. Maria stared at the paper in her hand again.
It couldn’t be real. But it was.
The numbers didn’t lie.
She had found something... something deep. And dangerous.
Her heart pounded.
Yes, she wanted to prove herself. Yes, she needed this job. But this? This was above her. The document pointed straight at top executives. Big names. Powerful people.
Maria swallowed hard.
"I should walk away," she told herself. Let someone else deal with this. Just mop floors and mind my business.
But another voice inside her whispered," This could be your only shot.
She had spent four years begging for jobs. She was tired. Broke. And scared. But something about this moment—this file—felt like a door she wasn’t ready for… but couldn’t ignore.
Her feet moved before her brain could stop them. She clutched the report to her chest and raced down the hallway. Her legs were weak, but she didn’t care.
Steve Benson’s limousine sat like a king in the private driveway. Sleek. Silent. Intimidating. Everything about the beast was screaming class!
She didn’t knock. I just stood there.
The tinted window rolled down halfway.
“You have five minutes,” came that cold, deep voice.
She took a shaky breath.
“Sir, I…”
Her voice caught in her throat. She looked at him. He looked at his watch.
“What is it, Miss Claudia?” he asked.
Her hands trembled as she held out the file.
“There’s… something wrong with this report.”
He raised an eyebrow.
“I’m listening.”
She finally spoke. “There’s a major gap in the figures. Millions… possibly hidden funds. It’s not a mistake.”
Steve’s eyes narrowed.
“Who else knows about this?”
“No one,” she said quickly. “Just me.”
He leaned back slowly, tapping a finger on the steering wheel.
No driver? Maria pondered in her heart. There was so much mysterious aura surrounding her boss. Or has the driver been fired?
The scary thoughts kept coming. She thought of what her fate would be if she didn't imprint her name into the good books of this handsome but mean man.
“Good. Keep it that way.”
Maria froze.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re either very brave or very foolish. Let’s find out which one.”
The car window slid up.
Maria stood there, heart racing, eyes wide.
What just happened?
Then her phone buzzed. A number she didn’t recognize.
She answered.
A strange voice whispered:
“You shouldn’t have opened that file.”
Maria didn’t sleep that night.
She sat on her small couch, knees drawn to her chest, staring at her phone like it was a ticking bomb.
Who was that?
How did they know?
What did they mean?
What do they possibly want from nobody like her?
At 5:30 AM, she forced herself up, took a quick shower, and dressed in silence. Her uniform still smelled of bleach. Her heart still pounded from yesterday.
Maybe I’m being paranoid, she thought.
But the voice still echoed in her mind.
“You shouldn’t have opened that file.”
She got to work early.
Too early.
The office floors were still dark and silent. She walked slowly toward the janitor's closet to grab her mop, when she noticed something strange.
The door to the executive boardroom… was open.
That door was always locked.
Curious, she peeked in.
Papers were scattered on the table. A coffee mug was still steaming. Someone has been here… recently.
Then she heard footsteps.
Click. Click. Click.
Not heels. Not a worker.
A man.
She turned quickly and stepped out of sight, crouching behind the hallway pillar. Her breath caught in her throat.
The man walked into the room. Maria peeked slightly.
It wasn’t Benson.
It was someone else. Tall. Clean cut. Wore a black coat. He looked around, picked up the coffee mug, and sniffed it.
Then he pulled out a USB drive from his pocket and plugged it into the boardroom computer.
Maria’s hands shook.
What was going on?
She took one step back. The floor creaked.
The man turned.
“Who's there?” he called out.
Maria didn’t wait.
She ran.
By noon, Maria was back to scrubbing floors like nothing had happened. But inside, she was falling apart.
She had a choice to make.
Go to Benson? Or pretend none of this ever happened?
At lunchtime, she walked into the break room. It was quiet. The air smelled like burnt rice.
She sat alone.
Until someone slid into the chair beside her.
A woman.
Sharp eyes. Red lipstick. Expensive perfume. Too gorgeous to ignore.
“Maria, right?”
Maria looked up, surprised. “Yes…”
The woman smiled—but it didn’t reach her eyes.
“Steve Benson wants to see you. Now.”
Maria stood up slowly.
“Why?”
The woman leaned in and whispered,
“Because someone’s trying to frame you.
- Writer
