Chapter Ten
Rafael didn’t sleep much that week. He had started keeping a legal pad in his desk drawer — the kind he usually reserved for board negotiations — except now it was filling up with dates instead of numbers. The night of the gala. The day Amara said she sent the first email. The second one. The board vote. All of it cross-referenced against whatever he could remember of Cassian’s schedule during that same stretch.
None of it proved anything yet. It just made him more sure.
He called his head of IT security into his office on a Tuesday morning — a quiet, precise guy named Warren who had been with Knox Aurelius since before Rafael even took over as CEO.
“I need you to pull something for me,” Rafael said. “Old records. Five years back.”
“How far back does our retention even go?
