Chapter 5: The Account Nobody Knew
Dad didn't accuse Rebecca.
That was the first thing that made me trust him.
He simply asked her to sit down.
“Don't touch your phone,” he said.
Rebecca looked frightened.
“Why?””
“Because if someone has access to your accounts, we need to preserve what they're doing.””
“I don't understand.””
“You will.””
He took out his phone.
“I'm calling your bank.””
Rebecca stared at him.
“You think my bank account is compromised?””
“I think everyone connected to this company is compromised until we know otherwise.””
I sat beside her.
Rebecca looked at me.
“Elena, I swear I didn't steal anything.””
“I know.””
Her eyes widened.
“You believe me?””
“I believe that you came here tonight.””
My father looked at me.
“That's not the same thing.””
Rebecca nodded.
She understood.
Dad called the bank.
While he spoke, I opened the accounting system.
My hands were cold.
I searched for every transaction connected to Northstar.
There were 46.
Then 47.
I scrolled.
The total was higher than Rebecca had told us.
“Dad.””
He turned.
“What?””
“It's not two million.””
He walked over.
I pointed at the total.
“It's $2.184 million.””
Dad stared at the screen.
“That's better.””
I looked at him.
“How is that better?””
“Because the larger the pattern, the easier it is to prove.””
He studied the transactions.
Then he pointed.
“Look at this.””
One payment stood out.
*$480,000 — Strategic Acquisition Deposit.*
Date:
Two weeks before my divorce filing.
Recipient:
Northstar Strategic Holdings.
I frowned.
“What's that?””
“I don't know.””
I clicked the transaction details.
A contract appeared.
The description read:
*Acquisition of minority interest in Rossi Design Group hospitality assets.*
My heart stopped.
“That's impossible.””
Dad read it.
“Why?””
“Because I never sold anything.””
“Maybe someone attempted to.””
I scrolled.
The document contained my name.
My company seal.
A digital signature.
And a purchase agreement.
Buyer:
*Hayes Capital Advisory LLC.*
Seller:
*Elena Rossi.*
My father's face hardened.
“That's the endgame.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“He wasn't just stealing money.””
Dad tapped the agreement.
“He was trying to buy your assets with your own money.””
I couldn't speak.
The realization moved through me slowly.
Brandon had taken money from Rossi Design Group.
Moved it through Northstar.
Then used that money to create a company controlled by him.
Then that company tried to acquire part of my business.
“With what?”” I whispered.
“Your money.””
I stood.
“He wanted to own my company.””
Dad nodded.
“And he almost succeeded.””
Rebecca suddenly spoke.
“There was another document.””
“What document?””
“The transfer agreement.””
“What transfer agreement?””
Rebecca opened her laptop.
“Three months ago, Brandon told me you wanted to restructure the company.””
“I never said that.””
“I know that now.””
She opened a file.
“He said you wanted to move the hospitality division into a separate holding company.””
I looked at the screen.
There it was.
*Rossi Hospitality Holdings LLC.*
The company had been incorporated eight months earlier.
I had never heard of it.
“Who owns it?””
Rebecca hesitated.
“That's the problem.””
She clicked the ownership records.
My name appeared.
*Elena Rossi — 100%*
I stared.
“That isn't mine.””
“I know.””
“Then who controls it?””
Rebecca opened another page.
A management authorization appeared.
The authorized manager was:
*Brandon Hayes.*
I felt dizzy.
Dad caught my shoulder.
“Sit.””
I sat.
“How did he do this?””
Rebecca's voice shook.
“He submitted formation documents using your information.””
“Why didn't anyone verify it?””
“They did.””
“What?””
“He provided a copy of your driver's license.””
I stared at her.
“I never gave him a copy.””
Rebecca looked at me.
“You did.””
I thought back.
Our mortgage application.
Three years ago.
Brandon had scanned my license for paperwork.
My stomach turned.
“He had everything.””
Dad nodded.
“Name. Signature. Identification. Passwords.””
“And access.””
“Yes.””
I covered my face.
For nine years, I'd called it marriage.
Brandon had called it access.
My father sat beside me.
“This is not your fault.””
“It is.””
“No.””
“I trusted him.””
“That isn't a crime.””
“I let him into everything.””
“That's what marriage is supposed to be.””
I looked at him.
He squeezed my shoulder.
“The person who betrayed you is responsible for the betrayal.””
Rebecca suddenly gasped.
“What?””
She pointed at the screen.
“The transfer.””
“What transfer?””
“The $480,000.””
She clicked into the bank details.
“The recipient account isn't Northstar.””
Dad leaned forward.
“What is it?””
Rebecca enlarged the transaction.
The money had gone to a second account.
*Rossi Hospitality Holdings.*
I stared.
“That account is mine.””
“No,” Dad said.
“It has my name.””
“Names don't own accounts.””
He pointed to the beneficiary details.
“Look at the bank officer.””
I read the name.
Then stopped.
The account manager was someone I knew.
*Thomas Vale.*
Our former outside financial adviser.
He had worked with Brandon for years.
I looked at Dad.
“Thomas.””
Dad nodded.
“Call him.””
I reached for my phone.
Dad stopped me.
“Not yet.””
“Why?””
“Because if Thomas is involved, he'll know we've found the account.””
“What do you want to do?””
“Watch.””
He opened his laptop.
Within minutes, he had arranged for the bank to flag the account without notifying the account holder.
“Now we wait.””
I hated waiting.
Especially when someone had stolen from me.
Especially when that someone had once kissed me goodnight.
Twenty minutes passed.
Nothing.
Then Rebecca's phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Her face changed.
“What?””
She handed me the screen.
An email.
*Password reset requested.*
Her accounting credentials.
Someone was trying to access her account.
Dad leaned closer.
“Don't approve it.””
“I didn't.””
Another email appeared.
*Security question changed.*
Then:
*Two-factor authentication disabled.*
Rebecca's eyes widened.
“I didn't do that.””
Dad took her phone.
He checked the timestamps.
“Someone is inside your account.””
“Can we trace them?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
“Give me the laptop.””
Rebecca handed it over.
Dad connected it to his equipment.
He wasn't just investigating anymore.
He was hunting.
Three minutes later, he found the login session.
“Chicago.””
I leaned over his shoulder.
“What location?””
“Private network.””
“Can you identify it?””
“Not yet.””
Then another login appeared.
“Wait.””
Dad stared.
The second session was from the same network.
But this one was connected to an internal company device.
My office.
I felt a chill.
“Someone is here?””
“No.””
He zoomed in.
The device was listed as:
*ELENA-ROSSI-MBP.*
Again.
My old laptop.
The one Brandon had used.
I whispered, “I threw that computer away last month.””
Dad looked at me.
“Did you destroy the hard drive?””
“No.””
“Where is it?””
“I don't know.””
Rebecca suddenly spoke.
“Brandon took it.””
I turned.
“When?””
“Two weeks ago.””
“Why?””
“He said he needed old project files.””
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“I thought you knew.””
Dad closed his eyes for a second.
Then opened them.
“Of course.””
“What?””
“He needed your old laptop because it still contained the credentials.””
My phone buzzed.
A new message.
This time, from Brandon.
*You're looking at the wrong account.*
I froze.
Another message arrived.
*Check the account ending in 4417.*
Dad read it.
His face changed.
“Do you have an account ending in 4417?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
Rebecca looked at me.
“You do.””
“What?””
“The emergency reserve account.””
My blood ran cold.
“I closed that account two years ago.””
Rebecca stared at me.
“No.””
She opened the banking system.
“It was never closed.””
Dad moved beside her.
The account was active.
Balance:
*$3,870,000.*
I stopped breathing.
“Three million?””
Rebecca nodded.
“Eight hundred seventy thousand.””
I stared at the screen.
“Where did that money come from?””
Dad looked at the transaction history.
His face became unreadable.
“It came from Rossi Design Group.””
“When?””
He scrolled.
Every major payment into the emergency account had been followed by a withdrawal.
Then another.
Then another.
The withdrawals weren't random.
They formed a pattern.
And the final withdrawal had occurred that morning.
*$3,870,000 — Wire Transfer Pending.*
I whispered, “Pending?””
Dad's eyes narrowed.
“It's scheduled for tomorrow.””
“To whom?””
He clicked the beneficiary.
The screen loaded.
Then my father went completely still.
I looked at the name.
*Hayes Capital Advisory LLC.*
Brandon was trying to move nearly four million dollars out of my company.
May you like
Tomorrow morning.
And the authorization had been made with my credentials.
