Chapter 5 - The Hidden Ledger
Z
Two days after the arrests, the storm surrounding Crosswell Medical Design showed no signs of abating. The media had caught wind of the scandal, turning the corporate headquarters into a fortress surrounded by satellite trucks and shouting reporters. Headlines screamed of murder plots, corporate espionage, and high-society greed. But behind the reinforced glass of my private penthouse office, the atmosphere was dead quiet.
Jonah Price sat on the leather sofa across from me, holding a cup of black coffee. He looked distinctly out of place among the minimalist Italian furniture and modern art, still wearing his rugged canvas work jacket, but his eyes were sharp and observant.
"You should be resting at home, Mrs. Cross," Jonah said, gesturing toward the bruising around my collarbone. "Rib fractures don't heal well when you're working eighteen-hour shifts."
"Call me Evelyn," I replied, adjusting the tablet on my desk. "And if I rest now, the vultures will pick what's left of this company apart before the opening bell on Monday. Grant didn't work alone, Jonah. A fraud of this magnitude requires an entire infrastructure."
Sarah Lin entered the office without knocking, carrying a thick red binder stamped with the insignia of a forensic accounting agency. Her face was grim.
"We finished decrypting Grant’s secondary cloud storage," Sarah said, setting the heavy binder on my desk. "It’s worse than we thought, Evelyn. The $840,000 transfer from yesterday morning was just the final payout. Grant was running a parallel extortion ring using Crosswell’s private patient data."
I froze, my hand hovering over the edge of the binder. "Patient data? Our rural modular clinics are built on end-to-end encrypted medical software. Grant never had the encryption keys."
"He didn't need the keys," Sarah explained, opening the binder to reveal pages of server access logs. "He installed a hardware tap directly into our regional diagnostic servers in Austin four months ago. He was compiling comprehensive health dossiers on every high-profile client, local politician, and corporate executive who utilized our private testing facilities."
Jonah set his coffee mug down on the glass table with a quiet clatter. "He was selling medical blackmail."
"Not just selling it," Sarah added. "He was using it to secure private venture capital from predatory offshore lenders to buy up Crosswell shares under dummy corporate names. He wasn't just trying to steal your sixty-two percent stake, Evelyn. He was planning to orchestrate a hostile takeover, dilute the public shares, and privatize the company so no regulatory body could ever audit the patient servers."
I flipped through the pages, feeling a cold, sickening rage burning through my veins. Names, diagnoses, confidential genetic markers, private prescription histories—hundreds of lives reduced to leverage in my husband’s desperate bid for absolute power.
"Did he share this data with Celeste?" I asked, looking up.
"Celeste was the broker," Sarah said grimly. "We found an encrypted email thread between her private server and a private equity broker based in Zurich. They had an auction scheduled for next Friday. Starting bid for the full biometric database: twenty-five million dollars."
I slammed the binder shut. The sheer scale of their depravity went far beyond a failed marriage or corporate jealousy. They were willing to destroy hundreds of innocent families just to maintain their illusion of luxury and supremacy.
"Detective Bennett needs to see this immediately," Jonah stated, his jaw set in a hard line.
"No," I replied, a dark calculation settling in my mind. "Bennett gets the files, but not until we close the trap on the buyer."
Sarah raised an eyebrow. "Evelyn, the federal agents are already processing the wire fraud charges. If you interfere with an active international extortion ring, the Department of Justice could freeze all of Crosswell’s operational assets."
"The Department of Justice won't freeze anything if we deliver the buyer and the broker on a silver platter," I said, tapping the surface of the binder. "Grant and Celeste are currently sitting in county lockup awaiting their bail hearing tomorrow morning. Celeste’s high-priced attorney, Harrison Cole, just filed an emergency motion to post bail using the equity in our marital home—a home that was purchased entirely with my father’s trust funds."
"Harrison Cole is crooked," Jonah murmured. "I used to do security logistics for his firm's building. The man doesn't take cases unless he has a backdoor payoff lined up."
"Exactly," I said, turning to Sarah. "Harrison doesn't know we've decrypted the Austin server logs yet. He thinks Celeste's only liability is the IV tampering charge and the dashcam video. He believes the Zurich auction is still an undetected secret. So we’re going to let Celeste post bail."
Sarah looked alarmed. "Evelyn, she tried to poison you in a hospital bed! You want her back on the street?"
"Celeste is arrogant, entitled, and incapable of admitting defeat," I said coldly. "The moment she walks out of that detention center, she won't run to an airport. She knows the feds have flagged her passport. She will go straight to the backup server hidden in Harrison Cole’s private vault to ensure the Zurich transaction goes through before her accounts are completely frozen."
May you like
Jonah leaned forward, a grim smile touching his lips for the first time. "And you want me to follow her."
"I don't just want you to follow her, Jonah," I said, opening my desk drawer and pulling out a small black transponder. "I want you to make sure she thinks she’s getting away with it right up until she opens that vault."
