The library queen

Chapter 12 Absolute Variable

The hidden terminal threw a dull blue glow across the damp stone walls. Maya sat hunched over the wooden table, her fingers flying across the keys with a loud, aggressive clack-clack-clack.

She typed a ten-digit banking code, her eyes sliding down the faded ledger. She crossed out three fake company names with her pencil, circled the last one, and slammed the enter key.

Rows of encrypted offshore data flooded the screen. Her memory locked onto the sequence, matching the digital timestamps perfectly.

Dr. Tang stepped through the doorway and slammed a brass thermos onto the desk. "You’re messing with my security settings, Maya," he snapped.

Maya didn't even look up from the monitor, her lips curling into a cold smirk. "I used your backdoor, Tang. The one you were stupid enough to leave unlocked."

"I told you you could look at historical files! You’re hacking into our live overseas trusts, you crazy b***h!"

"Your old books are the only thing that makes sense of this mess," Maya said, tapping the glass screen. "Look at this transfer right here, or are you too blind to read?"

Tang leaned over the table. "Geneva. It’s a ghost account."

"It’s a laundering setup, Tang. Every single wire transfer went through right when the Zurich node crashed yesterday. Try telling me that’s a coincidence."

Tang's face went tight. He pulled a decryption drive from his pocket and jammed it into the terminal. "You think someone hacked us from the outside?"

"No," Maya whispered, her eyes turning into pure fire. "It’s an inside job."

The system whirred, the black text dissolving into a single name.

Moreau Bernard.

Tang went completely stone-cold. He violently yanked his drive out of the port. "Erase this search right now, Maya. Put the files away before we both end up dead."

"The data doesn't lie, Tang. Your precious number two is the leak."

"This data is gonna get us a bullet in the head!" Tang hissed, checking over his shoulder at the dark hallway. "Moreau runs the whole security detail! He controls the gates, he controls the guards, and he’s setting up the Friday convoy!"

Maya grabbed her pencil, drawing a heavy, dark circle around Moreau’s name on her notepad, her voice dropping into a lethal. "He’s selling Renn out to the Holmes family. Chief Addison is clearing the streets for them. The whole city is rigged."

Tang took a slow step back, staring at her. "You can't do anything with this. Renn will never believe a librarian over his brother."

"He’ll believe the math," Maya sneered, ripping the page clean out of the wire binding. "I need to see him right now."

"He’s up in the east wing. There are four shooters guarding that hallway."

"You have the electronic override for the doors, Tang. Give it to me. Stop being a coward."

Tang clutched his brass thermos. "You're asking me to turn on the number two guy in this family."

"I’m asking you to keep Renn from getting massacred on Friday," she snapped, sticking her hand out. "Give me the card, or I'll tell Renn you helped me hack the network."

Tang stared at her, completely out-talked, then let out a rough breath. He pulled out a heavy black keycard and slid it across the wood. "The night shift changes in three minutes. You have exactly sixty seconds when they switch places. Don't screw up."

"I don't screw up, Tang. Watch the monitors."

Maya walked fast down the dim stone corridor, counting the seconds in her head. When she hit the east wing intersection, she saw the guards walking away. She darted past the marble columns, stepped up to Renn's private doors, and slid the iron card into the slot. The mechanism cleared with a soft click.

She shoved the heavy oak door open and walked straight in.

Renn sat behind a massive mahogany desk, completely alone, slowly wiping a long steel hunting blade with a white cloth. He didn't look surprised. He just lifted his dark eyes, staring at her through the gloom.

"You're breaching my private rooms, Maya," Renn said, his voice flat and dangerous.

"I found your thirty million dollars, Savier," Maya said, marching straight up to the desk. "Eat your own pride. I'm busy."

Renn set the blade down on the wood. "Talk."

Maya threw the folded paper right onto the polished mahogany, directly invading his space. "Zurich was a fake. It was a giant smoke screen so they could move the real cash through Geneva. It’s all right there. Your accountants are a joke."

Renn unfolded the paper, his eyes scanning the decrypted name. His face turned to solid, freezing ice. "You're coming into my bedroom to accuse my brother?"

"I'm showing you the routing codes, Renn. Look at the numbers."

Renn stood up slow, stepping around the massive desk until he was right in her face. "Moreau bled for this family before you were even born, girl."

"Yeah, well, he’s bleeding you dry now, you arrogant bastard," Maya shot back, refusing to back down, her face a perfect blank. "He’s the one who authorized the Tuesday deposits. He used his personal security override to bypass your protocols."

Renn gripped the edge of the desk, his jaw clenching. "You think he’s trying to take over?"

"I know he is," Maya hissed, pointing her pen at his chest. "He’s working with Addison. The cops are shutting down the garment district on Friday to trap your cars. It’s a bottleneck, Renn. The streets are narrow as a coffin down there, and Holmes has shooters waiting on the roofs. Moreau is driving you straight into a slaughterhouse."

The grandfather clock in the corner ticked loudly in the dead silence. Renn looked down at the paper, then back up at her, his eyes dead and unreadable.

"You just mapped out my execution, librarian."

"No," Maya whispered, "I just gave you the blueprint to kill them first."

Renn stared at her for a long second, then slowly picked up the steel blade. The metal caught the moonlight.

Victor walked into the master bedroom, carrying a silver garment rack. A high-end, backless silk gown hung from the metal, catching the dim light.

Maya glanced at the plunging neckline, her lips curling into a cold, mocking smirk. "You expect me to wear this decorative garbage, Victor? It covers less skin than a legal brief."

"The boss picked it out himself, ma'am," Victor replied, his face a perfect blank. "He’s waiting."

Maya didn't waste her breath arguing with a servant. She snatched the silk off the rack, marched straight into Renn’s private study, and slammed the hanger onto his mahogany desk.

"Are you insane, Savier?" Maya snapped, crossing her arms. "This damn thing is a legal liability. It’s completely exposed. I don't do public charity with my body."

Renn didn't even look up from his knife. He took a slow, steady stroke with his sharpening cloth. "It’s not charity, librarian. It’s a mandate. You wear the silk for the cameras so the elders think we’re legitimate. Put it on."

"The cameras are gonna see right through your little insurance policy, you arrogant bastard," She snatched the dress back.

Ten minutes later, the adjoining door clicked open. Maya stepped back into the study. The heavy black silk clung to her curves flawlessly, the deep, backless cut exposing the sharp line of her spine. It was completely stunning, completely hiding the thick tactical vest she’d strapped tight underneath it.

Renn finally lifted his dark eyes. For a fraction of a second, his dead stare froze. His jaw locked as his eyes locked onto her silhouette, completely caught off guard by the view.

He recovered instantly, his face turning back to solid, freezing ice before she could notice. "The Kevlar fits underneath. Satisfied?"

"I look just fine, boss," Maya whispered back, her voice dropping into a lethal. "Try to keep up and don't stare."

Renn turned back to the window, his voice flat. "The cars are idling. Move."