HAPPY NOW?

Ceasar's Pov

Sophia's smile wavered for the briefest moment, just enough to reveal that I’d struck the right chord, but she masked it instantly, replacing it with the smooth, professional smile she always wore to hide the flicker of hurt beneath.

Reaching into her bag, she pulled out a stack of printed documents, neatly clipped and perfectly arranged. I leaned forward slightly from the couch to take the files, then settled back, appearing calm while every sense in me stayed alert.

Flipping through the pages, I noticed she hadn’t just brought summaries, at least this time, she’d provided proof that went beyond the usual…distractions.

I let a pause hang in the air, my voice dropping cold, sharp, like I meant nothing but business. “Explain this to me,” I said. “Summarize, analyze, do whatever it takes to convince me you haven’t wasted my time.”

She nodded, forcing a smile. “Of course,” she said, her voice steady, though threaded with the faintest edge of anticipation. “I’ve highlighted the discrepancies, traced the trails, and cross‑referenced every entry. Step by step, I can guide you through it.”

I nodded once, coldly, letting her words settle. “Then start,” I said, my tone leaving no room for hesitation. “Convince me.”

Sophia nodded, perching on the edge of the couch handle, dangerously close. Her arm brushed my shoulder, fingers hovering over my chest, the side of her breasts pressing just enough to make me aware of her presence. Her perfume drifted in, warm, intoxicating, and impossible to ignore. I didn’t move her.

I let her words and the weight of her presence press against me, guiding my gaze as her glossy nails traced the lines of data slowly across the spreadsheet in my hand. Every number mattered. Every detail could crack this case wide open. I needed to know everything about the missing money, and right now, nothing she did could distract me.

Her knee brushed lightly against my lap as she shifted, trying to steady herself while her breath occasionally ghosted over my neck as she leaned in to point at a figure. Her finger hovered over a line, then pressed, guiding my eyes. “Look here,” she said, voice soft but drawing me in. “The first irregular withdrawal happened three months ago. Small amounts that were barely enough to trigger any immediate flags. But over the last six weeks, the withdrawals escalated, almost exponentially. Some were disguised as routine business activity, while others were split across multiple accounts, carefully hidden to avoid detection.”

She shifted slightly, leaning closer, her thigh brushing subtly against mine, her chest grazing the side of mine as she indicated another number. “But yesterday’s… transfer,” she said, pointing firmly at the figure, her nails catching the light.

She paused, biting her lip, eyes flicking toward mine for a brief moment, as if inviting me to notice her, but I didn’t, my attention fixed on the numbers. Sensing my focus, she returned to the data. “It’s the largest we’ve ever recorded,” she added, her breath feathering across my neck, her warmth pressing closer just enough to make me aware of her body without breaking my concentration.

My jaw tightened, not because of her, but because of the sheer size of the amount she was highlighting. What in God’s name would anyone need that much money for so abruptly?

I let my eyes trace the columns of numbers, letting my mind reconstruct the timeline piece by piece. Every withdrawal, every ledger entry, every irregularity was forming a pattern, and the more I saw, the more urgent it became.

“Do you have any leads?” I asked, my voice ice‑cold and sharp with irritation. The longer I stared at the spreadsheet at the huge sums leaking out of the company with no explanation, the more it annoys me. I couldn’t do a damn thing until I found whoever was behind it.

“Possibly,” she said. Her voice was low, steady, every word chosen with care. “There are a few accounts that don’t match any authorized activity. And some of the withdrawals…”

She leaned in, her finger sliding across the trackpad before tapping a highlighted line on the spreadsheet. The entry expanded, revealing a company name that didn’t belong to any of our known partners, its registration details vague and buried behind layers of redirects.“…they’re being laundered through shell companies,” she finished, her voice steady as she turned to look at me, catching the anger sharpening my features.

My eyes stayed locked on the printed sheet in my hands, scanning through the highlighted fake addresses, mismatched IDs, and the digital trail so cleanly carved it was meant to vanish the moment anyone got too close to figuring it.

My grip tightened around the sheet. Who the hell is doing this?

Then she shifted closer, closer than necessary, her chest brushing lightly against my side as she pointed at another entry, “These transfers,” she murmured, her voice low, “If you noticed, they're coordinated. Someone knows exactly how far to push without tripping the alarms. Whoever’s behind this is smart… careful…” Her eyes flicked toward me, a quick glance from the corner of her lashes, as if she was gauging my reaction, wondering if I thought she meant me when she said “…dangerous.”

Her lips parted slightly as she spoke again.

“Whoever’s doing this is clever, I’m sure of it,” she said, her voice steady, unnervingly confident. “They’ve managed to mask the trail through multiple layers, and I’m certain whoever’s behind this is someone inside the company. Someone with almost unrestricted access.”

My mind was already calculating, reconstructing the timeline, and plotting the next move. Every cell on the spreadsheet was a step closer to the truth. This wasn’t a careless employee or a one‑off embezzlement. Someone had studied the system, exploited it, bypassed firewalls, and slipped past admin passwords. She was right. This was definitely an insider. A high‑level one. Someone with access they should never have abused.

She drew a breath, as if ready to add more, but I cut her off with a single look.

“I need names. Logs. CCTV records,” I said, my voice hard, absolute. “Every piece of evidence is tied to those accounts and the exact moment the money moved, the terminals used, every connection. Bring me everything.”

Sophia swallowed hard. “It will take time… Some of the activity traces back to admin-level access, but I’m sure whoever did this… They know the system as well as you do.” Her words carried that faint edge of praise, a subtle attempt to impress or perhaps to soften me.

At least she was right. Arrogance. Overconfidence. Recklessness. That’s the kind of stupidity that makes people easier to trap.

“And yesterday’s withdrawal?” I asked, my tone sharp and cold. “What could be so urgent that they risked moving that much? No one under my watch touches funds like that without consequence.”

Her gaze flickered, calculating, weighing possibilities. “It almost looks like it was planned to coincide with”

“Do not speculate,” I interrupted, jaw tight. “Facts. Only facts.” My patience thinned as I was so determined to find the thief so fast. Whoever had done this had already crossed a line that could cost them everything, their career, reputation and maybe more if I caught them in the act.

“And Neven’s engagement today,” she added cautiously, “the timing… It's unusual. Whoever did this might have taken advantage of the distraction.”

Or for his advantage, I thought, and my mind snapped to Neven for half a heartbeat, freezing me mid-thought. Could it be him? Using that kind of money just to host an engagement banquet? The question lingered, sharp and dangerous, igniting a cold pulse of suspicion through me.