Behind His Empire

Lena Hart stood across the street from Blackwood International and wondered if some doors were meant to remain closed. The building rose above Manhattan like a monument to money—forty-two stories of dark glass and steel reflecting the pale morning sky. The silver logo above the entrance said everything. BLACKWOOD INTERNATIONAL. Real estate. Technology. Finance. Hospitality. Investments. An empire controlled by one man. Alexander Blackwood. Lena tightened her grip around the folder in her hand. Inside were her résumé, certifications, university records, references, and a financial analysis report she had spent two nights perfecting. She had prepared for the interview. She had researched the company. She had even researched the billionaire who might eventually sign her employment contract. What she hadn't prepared for was the feeling in her chest. For years, she had tried not to think about Blackwood International. It had been easier that way. Her father had worked here. Daniel Hart had once been a respected financial analyst. Then, almost overnight, millions disappeared from company accounts. His name appeared on documents he swore he had never signed. Blackwood International accused him of embezzlement. The newspapers destroyed his reputation. His colleagues abandoned him. Before he could clear his name, he died. The official report called it an accident. Lena had never believed that. But disbelief didn't pay bills. It didn't restore reputations. And it certainly didn't bring her father back. So she had worked. Studied. Rebuilt. She had stopped asking questions that had no answers. Until three days ago. An email from Blackwood International had appeared in her inbox. Interview Invitation — Financial Analysis Division. She had almost deleted it. Then she saw the salary. Then the position. Then the company name. Against every instinct she had, she accepted. Her phone vibrated. Sophia: Tell me you're already inside. Lena smiled. Lena: I'm outside. The reply came instantly. Sophia: Outside the building or outside the city? Lena rolled her eyes. Lena: The building. Another message appeared. Sophia: Get the job. And don't fall for the billionaire's face. Lena laughed quietly. "That won't be a problem." She put her phone away and crossed the street. The glass doors opened automatically. Inside, everything was controlled. Polished marble floors. Expensive suits. Quiet conversations. Employees moving with purpose. A massive digital screen displayed Blackwood International's latest projects. Luxury residences. Hotels. Commercial towers. Investment portfolios. The empire was everywhere. Lena approached reception. "Good morning. I'm here for an interview." "Name?" "Lena Hart." The receptionist typed. Then stopped. Her eyes moved from the screen to Lena. "Ms. Hart?" "Yes." The receptionist picked up the phone. "Mr. Blackwood's office? Ms. Hart has arrived." Lena's eyebrows rose. Mr. Blackwood? She had expected someone from human resources. Not the CEO. The receptionist hung up. "Someone will escort you upstairs." "Is Mr. Blackwood conducting the interview?" "I believe so." A few moments later, a woman approached. "Ms. Hart?" "Yes." "I'm Rebecca Lane, Mr. Blackwood's executive assistant." They walked toward the elevators. "Why is the CEO interviewing me for a financial analyst position?" Lena asked. Rebecca glanced at her. "I wasn't told." The elevator arrived. They stepped inside. Rebecca pressed 42. As the numbers climbed, Lena watched her reflection in the mirrored wall. Twenty. Twenty-five. Thirty. Rebecca finally spoke. "Don't worry." "I'm not worried." Rebecca's expression suggested otherwise. When the doors opened, they stepped onto the executive floor. It was silent and private, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking Manhattan. Rebecca stopped outside a large glass office. "Mr. Blackwood, Ms. Hart is here." "Send her in." Lena entered. Alexander Blackwood stood near the windows. Black shirt. Dark trousers. Silver watch. He turned. His eyes settled on her. Lena had expected arrogance. Instead, she saw calculation. He was studying her. Not her clothes. Not her résumé. Her. "Ms. Hart." "Mr. Blackwood." He gestured toward a chair. "Sit." She did. He picked up her application. "You graduated with honors." "Yes." "Financial analysis certification." "Yes." "Three years at Stanton Financial." "Three years and four months." His eyes lifted. "You corrected me." "You were reading from my résumé." For the first time, something resembling amusement crossed his face. "You're observant." "I try to be." He closed the folder. "You resigned from Stanton Financial." "Yes." "Why?" "Career growth." "That's the answer you gave them." Lena studied him. "What answer did you expect?" "The truth." Silence stretched between them. Then Alexander said, "You weren't told why you were invited here." "No." "You aren't interviewing for the position listed in the email." Lena frowned. "Then what am I here for?" "Someone has been moving money through one of my subsidiaries." Her attention sharpened. "How much?" "Enough." "That's not a number." His eyes narrowed. "I need someone who can find discrepancies other people miss." "Financial investigator?" "Exactly." "I didn't apply for that." "I know." "Then why me?" Alexander walked back to his desk. Instead of answering, he opened another folder and placed a photograph in front of her. Lena looked down. Her breath caught. Her father. Young. Smiling. Alive. Standing beside Alexander's father outside Blackwood International. "Where did you get this?" "Company archives." She looked up. "You knew my father." "Yes." "What happened to him?" Alexander's expression hardened. "I've spent years trying to answer that question." Lena froze. "What?" "Your father was accused of stealing from this company." "I know." "I never believed he did it." Her heart tightened. "Why?" "Because the numbers didn't make sense." He pointed to the photograph. "Someone altered the financial records." "Do you have proof?" "No." "Then why tell me?" "Because I believe whoever did it is still connected to this company." Lena stared at him. "And you think they're still here?" "I know they're still here." A chill ran through her. "Why hire me?" His eyes met hers. "Because you're Daniel Hart's daughter." There it was. The real reason. Her father's name had brought her here. "You invited me because of him." "Partly." "And the rest?" "You're good at what you do." Lena crossed her arms. "So this isn't an interview." "No." "What is it?" "An opportunity." "For what?" "To find the truth." She hesitated. "Why should I trust you?" "You shouldn't." His answer surprised her. "Trust is earned." Lena looked at the photograph again. Her father's smile seemed painfully familiar. "When do I start?" "Today." She nodded. "Fine." Alexander stopped her before she could leave. "One more thing." She turned. "Nobody can know why I hired you." "Why?" "If the person responsible realizes what we're looking for, they'll destroy the evidence." Lena's stomach tightened. "And if they realize I'm looking?" "They may come after you." She stared at him. "Is that a threat?" "No." His voice lowered. "It's a warning." Lena walked toward the door. Her hand touched the handle. "Lena." She turned. "Don't trust anyone on this floor." "Anyone?" "Anyone." She stepped into the hallway. Then she noticed something through the glass. A framed photograph on Alexander's wall. His father. His family. And standing beside them was Daniel Hart. Lena stared at it. Something about the photograph felt wrong. She looked back at Alexander. He was watching her. Then he picked up another photograph from his desk. Her father's. He turned it over. Whatever was written on the back changed his expression. For the first time, Lena understood something. Alexander Blackwood wasn't simply searching for answers. He was afraid of what the truth might reveal. And somewhere inside his empire, someone was afraid too. --- End of Chapter 1