"That's what they pay me for." Adrian glanced at the cart, then back at Ethan. "Funny. Some people only know how to fix what's broken after it's already too late." The board members chuckled politely, the kind of sound people made when they were trying not to offend the wrong person.
Ethan smiled just enough to look harmless. "Sometimes," he said, "the thing that's broken is the person doing the smiling." Adrian's face did not change, but something in his eyes sharpened. Claire, arriving at that exact moment in the lobby, saw the tension instantly. She slowed, then stepped forward.
"Adrian," she said, "I need the third-quarter projections and the revised capital expense timeline on my desk by noon." He turned toward her with perfect calm. "Of course. I was just telling Ethan how important it is to stay ahead of problems." Claire looked between them.
"Then maybe we should all start being more precise about which problems we mean." Adrian held her gaze a beat too long. Ethan saw it then, the smallest flicker of annoyance beneath the polish. Adrian was losing control of the room, and he knew it. That afternoon, Ethan received a maintenance request from the server room on the third floor, exactly where he had hoped to be.
It was a place only authorized staff could access, and because he wore a uniform and carried a toolbox, no one questioned him when he stepped inside. The room was cold, filled with the soft electronic breath of machines and blinking lights. He looked around, then down at the rack nearest the wall. One of the security logs had been opened recently. The timestamp was within the last hour.
He crouched, checked the cable labels, and noticed a small external drive connected to a hidden port at the back of the cabinet. His heartbeat kicked once. Someone had been moving data. Ethan photographed the setup, copied the log, and slid the drive into a shielded pouch inside his tool bag. Then he heard a voice behind him.
"You're not supposed to be in here." Ethan turned slowly. A young IT contractor stood at the door with a badge clipped to his belt and a nervous look in his eyes. Ethan kept his face blank. "You called for a maintenance check."
"I didn't." Ethan stepped just enough to block the cabinet with his body. "Then someone else did." The contractor hesitated. He was too young to be dangerous and too scared to be loyal.
That made him useful. Ethan lowered his voice. Who told you to run the backup? The boy's throat bobbed. Mr. Mercer.
He said there'd be a board review and he wanted redundancy. Ethan stared at him for a long second and understood instantly. Adrian was deleting or moving internal records, likely trying to cleanse the evidence before the vote. What did he tell you to copy? The contractor swallowed.
Just financial archives, R&D documents, some email folders. Did he give you a reason? He said the company's getting restructured. Ethan watched the fear spread across the kid's face and knew he was looking at a witness who did not yet realize he was one. Listen carefully, Ethan said voice low and steady.
If anyone asks you saw me check a server fan and nothing else. Understood? The contractor nodded too fast. Yes. Ethan walked out with his tool bag steady in his hand, but inside he was already racing.
Adrian was cleaning house. The vote was closer than expected. That evening Ethan showed the copied log to Claire and Nina in Claire's apartment. Nina stared at the screen then looked up horrified. He's been accessing the archive server after hours.
Claire rubbed a hand over her mouth. Can we prove what he copied? Not yet, Ethan said, but the log shows the access. The kid saw enough to be scared. Claire paced once then turned sharply.
He's moving fast because he knows something is coming. Ethan nodded, which means we're behind. Claire stopped pacing and faced him. Then we stop being behind. She picked up her phone and dialed a number he did not recognize.
Marcus. It's Claire Prescott. I need you to come to Richmond tonight. No more hiding." There was a long pause, then she listened, eyes fixed on the floor.
"I know you're scared," she said, "but I need your voice in the room." Ethan watched her shoulders tense as the answer came through the phone. Then she said, "No. Adrian doesn't get to decide this anymore." When she hung up, her hand was shaking.
"He's coming," she said quietly. "He'll testify if we can keep him safe until the meeting." Ethan nodded. "Then we keep him safe." The night before the board meeting, Richmond was caught in a cold wind that pushed through the streets like a warning.
Ethan stood in the lobby of Alderhaven and watched two men in suits enter the building, both carrying briefcases, both moving with the exact kind of confidence that made people think they were important. One of them handed the front desk a card and asked for Claire Prescott. Ethan stepped aside, but something about them felt wrong. He checked the reflection in the glass doors and saw the second man glance toward the elevators with the attention of someone measuring exits. Not visitors.
Not casual. Lawyers or investigators, maybe. Or worse, men sent to prepare a final pressure tactic. He went upstairs and found Claire in her apartment staring at a stack of folders she had not touched in 10 minutes. "Victor Langley's people are here," she said before he could speak.
Ethan frowned. "How do you know?" "Because they just asked to meet me privately before the vote." Ethan's jaw tightened. "No."
Claire gave a tired laugh with no humor in it. "That's exactly what I said." He looked at the folders, then at her. "Do not meet them alone." "I wasn't planning to."
"Good." She studied him. "You sound like you've done this before." "I have." "With people like him."