Chapter 6: The Transfer at 9:00 A.M.
At 7:12 the next morning, my father was already in my office.
He had slept for less than three hours.
I hadn't slept at all.
The $3.87 million transfer sat on my computer screen.
Pending.
Waiting.
One confirmation away from leaving my company forever.
I looked at Dad.
“Can we stop it?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
“First, we freeze the account.””
“Then?””
“We contact the bank's fraud division.””
“Then?””
“We preserve the evidence.””
“Then?””
He looked at me.
“We find out who authorized the transfer.””
I stared at the screen.
“My credentials.””
“Yes.””
“My signature.””
“Yes.””
“My company.””
“Yes.””
“Everything points to me.””
Dad shook his head.
“That's what someone wants.””
At 7:24, the bank's fraud investigator joined our call.
Her name was Melissa Grant.
She asked for identification.
I provided it.
Then she asked the question that made my stomach twist.
“Ms. Rossi, did you authorize a $3,870,000 wire transfer to Hayes Capital Advisory?””
“No.””
“Did you authorize anyone to initiate it?””
“No.””
“Did you provide anyone with access to your credentials?””
I paused.
“My ex-husband had access years ago.””
“Does he still?””
“No.””
Melissa typed something.
“Did you revoke his access before yesterday?””
“Yes.””
“Which accounts?””
“All of them.””
She paused.
“That may be important.””
“Why?””
“Because the transfer was initiated yesterday at 4:11 p.m.””
My father looked at me.
The courthouse.
That was less than an hour after the divorce.
“Who initiated it?”” I asked.
Melissa hesitated.
“We're tracing the originating device.””
“Can you see it?””
“Yes.””
“And?””
She went silent.
My father's voice hardened.
“Melissa.””
“It's showing an authorized corporate device.””
“Which one?””
She read the identifier.
“EL-RD-01.””
I knew it immediately.
“My old laptop.””
Melissa continued.
“The transfer was authenticated using your stored digital certificate.””
I felt sick.
“How can someone still use it?””
“Because the certificate hasn't been revoked.””
Dad leaned toward the screen.
“Can you revoke it now?””
“Yes.””
“Do it.””
Melissa typed.
“Done.””
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Dad looked at me.
“Don't answer.””
I let it ring.
It stopped.
Then a voicemail appeared.
I played it on speaker.
Brandon's voice filled the office.
“Elena, you need to understand something.””
His tone wasn't angry.
It was calm.
Almost gentle.
“You're making this much harder than it has to be.””
Dad stared at the phone.
Brandon continued.
“Call me before nine.””
The message ended.
I looked at the clock.
8:03.
“Why nine?””
Dad didn't answer.
Melissa did.
“Ms. Rossi?””
“Yes?””
“You need to listen carefully.””
“I am.””
“The transfer is scheduled to release at 9:00 a.m.””
My heart stopped.
“How long can you hold it?””
“We've placed a temporary fraud block.””
“Temporary?””
“Yes.””
“For how long?””
“Until 8:55.””
I looked at Dad.
“Why 8:55?””
“That's when the bank's automated review begins.””
Melissa explained.
“If the transaction passes the automated checks, it could release immediately.””
“What happens if we don't stop it?””
“It leaves.””
“How fast?””
“Seconds.””
My father stood.
“Then we stop it before 8:55.””
Melissa nodded.
“I'll stay on the line.””
Dad turned to me.
“Call the CFO.””
Rebecca answered on the first ring.
“Is it happening?””
“Yes.””
“I knew it.””
“What do you mean?””
“Someone just tried to access the treasury system.””
“When?””
“Seven minutes ago.””
Dad asked, “From where?””
“Your office.””
I looked around.
The office was empty.
“Impossible.””
Rebecca's voice trembled.
“There's another thing.””
“What?””
“The transfer wasn't created yesterday.””
My father went still.
“What?””
“It was scheduled three months ago.””
I stared at him.
“Three months?””
Rebecca continued.
“The transaction was created in July.””
“Why didn't we see it?””
“It was hidden under a recurring treasury instruction.””
Dad's face hardened.
“Who had access to recurring instructions?””
Rebecca answered quietly.
“Brandon.””
Silence.
Then she said:
“Elena, there's something you need to know.””
“What?””
“The $3.87 million isn't the only transfer scheduled.””
My heart sank.
“How many?””
“Four.””
“How much?””
“Altogether?””
“Yes.””
Rebecca took a breath.
“Almost eleven million dollars.””
The room seemed to tilt.
My father closed his eyes.
Then opened them.
“When?””
“Today.””
I looked at the clock.
8:11.
“We have forty-four minutes.””
Dad nodded.
“Then we don't waste one.””
He turned to Melissa.
“Can you freeze all outgoing wires?””
“Yes.””
“All corporate accounts?””
“Yes.””
“Do it.””
She began processing the request.
I grabbed my coat.
“Where are you going?””
Dad looked at me.
“To the bank.””
“I thought you said we could handle it remotely.””
“We can.””
“Then why go?””
He looked toward the hallway.
“Because someone knows we're stopping the transfer.””
“How do you know?””
My phone buzzed.
Another message from Brandon.
*8:55.*
Nothing else.
Just four digits.
My blood went cold.
Dad took the phone from my hand.
“That's not a warning.””
“What is it?””
“A deadline.””
At 8:19, we reached the private banking office downtown.
Two security officers met us at the entrance.
Melissa had already alerted them.
Inside, everything moved quickly.
Documents.
Identification.
Authorization forms.
Fraud declarations.
I signed each one.
This time, with my real signature.
At 8:37, Melissa called.
“The four transfers are blocked.””
I exhaled.
“Completely?””
“Yes.””
Dad shook his head.
“Not yet.””
Melissa paused.
“What?””
“Check for internal transfers.””
She did.
A few seconds passed.
Then she said:
“Oh.””
My stomach tightened.
“What?””
“There's a fifth instruction.””
“How much?””
“$1.2 million.””
“To where?””
She read the beneficiary.
“Northstar Strategic Holdings.””
Dad's eyes hardened.
“When is it scheduled?””
“8:55.””
I looked at the clock.
8:42.
My father stood.
“Cancel it.””
“We're trying.””
“Try faster.””
Melissa typed.
The bank's fraud system froze.
Then restarted.
The screen flashed.
*TRANSACTION RELEASED.*
I stared.
“No.””
Melissa's voice sharpened.
“That's impossible.””
“What happened?””
“The transfer was manually approved.””
“By whom?””
She pulled up the authorization.
The name appeared.
*Elena Rossi.*
My signature appeared beneath it.
And then, in the authorization notes, there was one sentence:
*APPROVED IN PERSON.*
I looked at my father.
“I wasn't there.””
“I know.””
The bank manager rushed into the room.
“Ms. Rossi.””
“What?””
“We have a security problem.””
“What kind?””
He held up a photograph.
A woman had entered the bank twenty minutes earlier.
Dark coat.
Black sunglasses.
Carrying a leather folder.
She had presented identification.
My identification.
The photograph on the ID was mine.
The name was mine.
The signature matched mine.
And the woman had walked directly into the private banking area.
I stared at the photograph.
Then at Dad.
“Who is she?””
The manager shook his head.
“We don't know.””
Dad took the photograph.
His expression changed.
“Elena.””
“What?””
“I know this woman.””
My heart stopped.
“Who?””
He turned the photograph toward me.
“She worked for me twenty years ago.””
I stared at the unfamiliar face.
“What was her name?””
Dad's voice dropped.
“Mara Whitfield.””
The same woman listed as the manager of Northstar.
The same woman who had once been Brandon's assistant.
The woman we'd thought was helping him steal from me.
Dad looked at the bank manager.
“Where is she now?””
The manager pointed toward the private vault corridor.
“She was here less than two minutes ago.””
I looked at the clock.
8:51.
Dad grabbed my hand.
“She's going for the original documents.””
“What documents?””
“The ones that prove who owns your company.””
We ran.
At the end of the corridor, a vault door was slowly closing.
And through the narrowing gap, I saw Mara Whitfield turn toward us.
She wasn't alone.
Brandon stood beside her.
He looked directly at me.
Then he smiled.
May you like
“Good morning, Elena.””
And in his hand was the one document that could make everything he'd done completely legal.
