The CEO's Secret Assistant

Chapter Two

The File He Gave Me

My first official morning as Damian Blackwood's assistant started with me wondering if I'd made a terrible mistake.

I'd barely sat down when a message hit my screen.

My office. Now.

No good morning. No explanation. Three words and nothing else. I stared at it a beat too long before I got up.

His door was already open. I knocked anyway.

"Come in."

He was standing by his desk, folder in hand, tie loosened, sleeves shoved up to his elbows and I noticed that before I could stop myself, then looked away like I hadn't.

"You wanted me?"

"Review this." He held out the folder. "Northstar Holdings."

I opened it. "Already?"

"You wanted access."

"I didn't think you'd actually give it to me."

"I don't say things I don't mean."

"You threatened to fire me yesterday."

"I said you'd be fired if you kept accessing restricted files."

"That's a threat."

"It was."

I almost smiled. "At least you're honest about it."

He watched me a second too long, then nodded at the folder. "Start with the company history, ownership, transactions, six months before the scandal broke."

"And what are you doing?"

"Same thing."

"So we're working together now."

"For now."

I closed the folder. "For someone who wants my help, you could try sounding a little less terrifying."

His eyebrows went up. "Do I."

"A little."

"Interesting."

"What's interesting."

"You don't look scared."

"Should I be?"

Something close to amusement. "Probably."

He turned back to his desk. I was already at the door when he said my name.

"Amelia."

I stopped.

"Don't assume that because I'm giving you access, I trust you."

Over my shoulder: "Don't worry. I don't trust you either."

I was almost certain that was a smile.

Back at my desk, I opened the Northstar file expecting nothing. It looked ordinary at first private investments, commercial property, consulting. Registered years before the scandal, no obvious thread back to Blackwood.

Then I kept going, and it stopped being ordinary.

Payments from Blackwood that didn't match anything in Northstar's actual business. Small at first. Then not small. Some of them dated days before the scandal broke publicly.

I wrote down every date, laid them next to the ones from my father's case.

There it was.

Money in, gone within hours, resurfacing somewhere else entirely the same laundering pattern, almost identical, like whoever built it had used the same template twice.

"That can't be right," I said out loud, to no one.

I checked it again. It was right.

Someone had run the money through enough accounts to make the actual destination nearly untraceable. I grabbed my notebook and started writing before I could talk myself out of what I was looking at.

Four years I'd been chasing something like this. Seeing it laid out in front of me felt different than the theory had. It wasn't a theory anymore.

It was a trail.

I didn't hear him come up behind me.

"What did you find?"

I nearly came out of the chair. "You need to stop doing that."

"Doing what."

"Appearing out of nowhere."

"I walked out of my office."

"Quietly."

He looked down at the papers spread across the desk. "Show me."

I turned the notebook toward him. He bent to read it, close enough that his shoulder was almost against mine, and I was suddenly, annoyingly aware of it. I shifted my chair an inch. He noticed I knew he noticed, because his eyes flicked to me before going back to the page.

"These were made before the scandal," he said.

"Exactly."

"And Northstar was never investigated."

"Not properly."

He picked up one of the reports. "Who prepared this?"

"Michael Avery."

He went still. It was small, but I caught it.

"You know him."

Not a question.

"He was a director at Blackwood." He set the page down. "Why didn't you mention that first?"

"Because I didn't think it mattered yet."

"You went quiet."

"I'm not going quiet." I looked at him. "Tell me what happened to Michael Avery."

His jaw tightened. "He left the company six weeks before the scandal."

"Why."

"Personal reasons."

"That's the official version."

"Yes."

"And what do you think?"

He didn't answer right away. That told me more than an answer would have.

"You think he knew something."

"I think we shouldn't assume yet."

"That's exactly what people said about my father."

Something in his face softened, just for a second, and I wished I hadn't brought him up. Damian looked away first.

"Find everything on Avery."

"Already started."

"Don't contact him."

"Why not."

"Because if someone inside Blackwood altered those records, we don't know who's watching."

"You think someone's watching us?"

"I think someone might notice if we ask the wrong questions."

"Then maybe we should ask the right ones."

He looked at me a beat longer than the conversation called for not suspicion exactly, more like he was still trying to work out what to make of me.

"You don't know when to stop, do you."

"Not when I'm close to something."

"That'll get you in trouble."

"It already has."

He didn't answer that. He picked the folder up off my desk and disappeared back into his office.

My phone buzzed a few minutes later.

*Come in.*

He could have walked the ten feet to my desk. Apparently that was somehow less acceptable than a text message.

He was behind his desk with another document laid out.

"Look at this." He slid it toward me. A registration record for Northstar Holdings.

"What am I looking at?"

"Legal representative."

Ethan Reed.

I looked up. "Your friend?"

"My lawyer."

"Your best friend and your lawyer."

"Yes."

I looked back down. "Why's his name here?"

He didn't answer right away, thinking, jaw working slightly.

"He did legal work for Blackwood during the scandal," he said finally. "I didn't know he touched Northstar."

"Could he have forgotten to mention it?"

"Ethan doesn't forget things like this."

"Then maybe he didn't want you to know."

His eyes met mine, and the room went quieter than it had any right to.

"Be careful what you're implying."

His voice wasn't raised, but there was something underneath it.

"I'm not implying. I'm following the evidence."

"Sometimes evidence points the wrong way."

"And sometimes people say that because they don't like where it's pointing."

For a second I thought I'd pushed too far. Then he sat back, and the look he gave me wasn't quite anger.

"You're brave," he said. "Or stubborn."

"Probably both."

A laugh got out of him before he could stop it short, almost involuntary, and it seemed to surprise him as much as it surprised me. I smiled without meaning to. He noticed that too, and then I was aware I was smiling at him, which was somehow worse.

I looked back down at the folder instead. "So we're investigating Ethan now?"

"No." Serious again. "We're investigating Northstar. If his name comes up, we follow it. Nothing more."

"Fine."

Neither of us believed that.

I stayed past seven that night, long after most of the floor had cleared out, still working through the Northstar file when I found the next thing.

An old legal registration request, dated three days before my father disappeared. Request to access sealed ownership records tied to Northstar.

Signed at the bottom, Ethan Reed.

I sat with that for a long minute. There wasn't a version of this that explained itself as routine.

I copied the reference number, ran it through the internal archive. One result.

An authorization form.

*Authorized by E. Reed on behalf of Blackwood International.*

I read it twice. Then again, slower, like it might say something different the third time.

It didn't.

Ethan hadn't just shown up somewhere in Northstar's paperwork. He'd authorized something. On the company's behalf.

I printed it and walked it down the hall. His light was still on.

I knocked.

"Come in."

He looked up. "You should be home."

"So should you."

"I'm the CEO."

"And I'm your assistant. We're both bad at this."

His mouth twitched. I set the page on his desk.

"I found this."

He read it without a word. Whatever amusement had been in his face a minute ago was gone by the second line.

"Where did you get this."

"Internal archive."

"Does anyone else know you found it."

"No."

He picked it back up. "Three days before Daniel disappeared."

"I know."

He looked at me. "Don't do anything with this tonight."

"I wasn't going to."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He studied me for a second. "Go home."

"Damian "

"Please."

That stopped me. It was the first time he'd said something to me like that not an order, more like he actually needed me to hear it. I didn't know why that unsettled me more than the threats had.

I gathered my things and left, but the document stayed with me the whole way down. Ethan Reed, tied to Northstar. A sealed records request three days before my father vanished. Proof, now, that he'd acted on Blackwood's behalf.

I was halfway through the lobby when my phone buzzed. Unknown number.

*Stop looking into Northstar.*

My heart picked up before I'd even finished reading it. A second message landed right after.

*Your father looked too. Look what happened to him.*

I stopped walking.

Somebody had been watching us. The question wasn't whether the old scandal had been covered up anymore.

It was how much this person already knew about me.