CHAPTER 3 - FIRST CLASH
941 Words
The storage room smelled of dust and old paper. It was a tomb of information, and Elena was its most unwelcome visitor.
Elena set the stack of files down, she moved with precision as her eyes scanned the shelves. She didn't tear through the boxes; she slid them out, scanned the labels, and tucked them back exactly as she'd found them. When she reached the box labeled 2014, her pulse skipped. She pulled out a box marked 2014.
She pulled out a thick ledger. As her eyes raced over the columns, rows of numbers stared back at her, but something was wrong.
Elena whispered, “These transactions…. they don't add up. The balances are off.”
She took out a page from the ledger and folded it neatly, sliding it into her pocket.
She flipped the pages and the math didn't add up in some. The numbers were inflated, bloated.
“Twenty-two million dollars, diverted for ‘Infrastructure Development,’ yet the local permits were never filed.”
She carefully folded three pages of shipping manifests and slipped them into her inner blazer pocket. Next, she pulled out a folder marked ‘Confidential’.
The document detailed funds being channeled into a foreign account; the various accounts the board claimed belonged to her father ‘Richard Whitmore’. But the routing numbers listed here didn’t match her father‘s personal record. This was looking like a frame job.
She was folding the report when a voice came from behind.
“And what exactly are you doing here?” Adrian’s voice was cold and calm.
Elena froze, the file halfway open. She turns slowly while putting the report into her blazer. Adrian stood in the doorway, tall, composed, his gaze sharp and unyielding.
Elena, now steady and guarded, “ I was helping the courier drop these files in storage. He had a bathroom emergency and asked me to help him out.”
Adrian stepped closer, his presence filling the room.
“Your office is upstairs. You shouldn’t be down here. Interns don’t wander.”
Elena met his gaze, her expression calm, though her pulse raced. “I didn’t wander. I was asked to help. Excuse me.”
She brushed past him, her steps measured, her face unreadable.
Adrian‘s eyes followed her until she entered the elevator.
Elena pressed the elevator button, her mind already racing, “I need to be more careful.”
The elevator doors closed.
The elevator chime felt like a starter pistol. Elena stepped out, her face masked with corporate neutrality even as the folded papers in her pocket felt like they were burning through the fabric.
“Elena! Finally,” Jenna called out. “Where were you? I was starting to think you ran away. Did you get lost?”
“Neither,” Elena said, her voice smooth, showing none of the adrenaline coursing through her. “I ran into one of the couriers in the hall. Seems he had stomach flu. He asked me to help move some files to the storage. I couldn't exactly say no.”
“Ugh, whatever. Come sit, sit. Mrs. Ivy will ask for these files soon. It's almost 3, we have 40 minutes to finish.”
“I'm on it,” Elena nodded.
She slid into her chair. Using the desk as a shield, she reached into her blazer and transferred the stolen documents into her bag. For now, the truth was sage. Then she bent over the reports, her pen steady, her mind sharper than ever.
Adrian’s POV
Adrian didn't go back to his office. Instead, he walked toward the administrative wing with silent, purposeful steps. As he walked down the corridor, his expression was unreadable.
He entered Mrs. Ivy's office without hesitation. He found her buried under a mountain of physical files and digital spreadsheets.
“Mr. Cole,” she said, looking up from the stack of physical files, a bit startled as she adjusted her glasses. “I wasn't expecting you. Is the CEO asking for the quarterly……”
“I need the personal file for the new intern.” he cut her off.
“Elena Hayes? Is there a problem?” Mrs. Ivy blinked, her brow furrowing in confusion.
“No problem at all,” He replied smoothly. “I want to know more about the people working here.”
Mrs. Ivy opened a drawer and handed him the folder.
“You’ll have it back when I'm satisfied,” his voice was low.
He offered a polite nod and left the office without another word. His footsteps echoed down the hall.
Adrian walked into his private office, the door clicking shut. He tossed his jacket onto the leather sofa and sat behind his desk. He placed the file on the desk and leaned back.
After a few seconds, he opened the file. The first thing that hit him was the sheer volume of her achievements.
Elena Hayes.
London School of Economics. First-class honors.
Dean’s List. Economics Scholarship.
National Young Economist Prize.
He flipped the page.
Debate Champion.
Tennis Captain.
Academic excellence awards stacked year after year.
“Overqualified for an internship,” he muttered.
His brows pulled together slightly as he kept reading. Something else caught his attention.
Her academic records started in Year Four in London.
Nothing before that.
No preschool or earlier transcripts.
Adrian leaned back slowly in his chair.
“That's strange”
Adrian closed the file. He looked at the headshot in the folder again. Elena Hayes looked like a girl with everything to offer, but her record looked like a map. He couldn’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to her.
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