Chapter 3 - The Midnight Audit and the Corporate Shield
The digital clock on the nightstand glowed 11:45 PM as I sat cross-legged on the guest bed, watching the notifications pop up on my tablet. Daniel hadn't called my boss; he had spent the last three hours frantically checking company ledger books in his home office down the hall.
The frantic sound of slamming desk drawers told me everything I needed to know. He had finally discovered that the corporate accounts were locked.
The bedroom door handle jiggled violently, followed by a frantic pounding that threatened to splinter the cheap drywall.
“Natalie! Open the damn door! Why are the payroll accounts frozen?” Daniel yelled, his voice cracking with panic.
I slid the deadbolt open and pulled the door inward just enough for him to see my bruised face in the dim hallway light.
“Property of the management company,” I said softly, holding up my tablet so he could see the administrative override screen.
Daniel stared at the glowing interface, his face draining of all color. “What is this? You’re just a mid-level analyst. You don’t have administrative rights to the parent company.”
“Keep telling yourself that,” I replied, stepping back into the room and packing my laptop into its leather case. “You and your mother spent five years convincing yourselves that my quiet demeanor meant weakness. You forgot that the person holding the purse strings writes the rules.”
Margaret appeared behind her son, her face twisted in absolute fury. “Daniel, stop listening to her delusions! Call the police! She’s hacked our corporate system!”
“Go ahead, Margaret,” I said, looking straight into the older woman’s trembling eyes. “Tell the officers why your medical insurance has been paid out of an account registered to an unmarried woman named Natalie Vance for the past thirty-six months. Let’s see how long the bank lets you keep this house.”
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Margaret gasped, clutching her pearls as if she had been physically struck. “That house is our family legacy! My husband built those foundations!”
“Your husband went bankrupt in two thousand and fourteen,” I reminded her coldly, zipping my suitcase shut. “I bought the mortgage out of foreclosure two weeks after we got married. Every brick you are standing on belongs to me.”
