chapter 7

Sophia's POV

I stared at the page for a long time, until I was convinced my mind was playing tricks on me.

Because the name printed neatly across the bottom of the document had no business being there.

The room seemed unnaturally quiet. Even the ticking of the antique clock on the wall faded into the background as I continued staring at those letters.

Derek Lawson? A sharp, sudden laugh escaped me, sounding more like a gasp. "This isn't funny."

Damien remained silent.

I looked up from the file, expecting to find some hint that this was a joke or a misunderstanding.

His face gave me no satisfaction, no sympathy. Just the same unreadable expression he had worn since I walked into the office.

I pushed the file back across the table. “You've made a mistake”

“I haven't” Damien replied

“It's not possible” I said, giving him a faint look.

He focused his gaze on me “why”

I frowned “what do you mean, why”

“You said it's impossible. I'm asking you why”

I let out a slow breath, trying to keep my frustration under control.

“Because Derek Lawson has worked with my father for almost twenty years”.

“I know”

“He helped raised me and my brother, after my mother died”.

“I know that too”

Every answer was calmly measured. I leaned forward, resting both palms on the desk.

“Then you should also know Derek would never steal from my father”.

Damien didn't argue, he didn't nod either. Instead, he folded his hands together and regarded me thoughtfully. "I never said he stole anything."

I blinked. "You didn't?"

"No." Damien said calmly

My eyes drifted back to the file with confusion setting over me. “Then why show me this?”

I frowned. "What should I be asking?"

He reached for the document and turned it toward himself. His long fingers rested lightly on the page before he tapped the signature at the bottom. "You looked at the name?"

She rolled her eyes and muttered "Obviously."

"You never looked at the date”.

I hesitated before I leaned closer to the document. As I looked at the document again, I noticed that the document had been signed nineteen years ago.

“He wasn't even…” my brows knitted together as I shook my head in disbelief. “He wasn't even a partner nineteen years ago”.

“Exactly” he stated, leaning back in his chair.

The word landed heavily between us, a chill crept through me. Slowly, I picked the file up again. But this time, I read every line instead of searching for familiar names. And I noticed that the document wasn't a financial statement, it wasn't a loan agreement, it wasn't even a contract.

It was a legal amendment attached to an older partnership agreement between Hart global holdings and Bennett Accounting.

The original signatures belonged to my father and Richard Hard (Damien's father).

Derek signature appeared years later as a witness, not as a partner.

I looked up. “So….”

"So ask yourself why someone who wasn't involved in the original agreement suddenly became part of it years later." Damien replied

"I don't know." I said looking more confused.

"Neither do I."

That answer surprised me. "You don't?"

"If I knew everything, you wouldn't be sitting here."

For the first time since meeting Damien Hart, I noticed something unexpected. He wasn't trying to convince me of anything, he wasn't pointing fingers, he wasn't telling me who to blame. He was simply laying facts in front of me.

I was now left to me to make the conclusions.

I leaned back slowly “my father never told me any of this”.

Damien let out a little grin “I'm aware”

“How?”

His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly. “Because David Bennett has spent the better part of twenty years pretending this agreement never existed”.

I felt chills running down my spine. “Why?”

Damien stood and walked toward the windows overlooking the city. Rain streaked the glass, turning London's skyline into a blur of silver and grey.

"When my father died," he said quietly, "I inherited Hart Global."

I remained silent.

"I also inherited every legal dispute attached to it." He turned slightly. "There was only one file my father's lawyers instructed me never to reopen."

I glanced down at the documents. "This one?"

"Yes."

"Then why reopen it now?"

For the first time… I noticed Damien hesitated, for a second. "Because someone else did."

The words settled like lead in my chest.

"What does that mean?"

"Three weeks ago, someone gained access to archived files connected to this agreement."

My fingers tightened around the edge of the folder. "Someone from Hart Global?"

"No."

"Then who?"

He looked directly at me. "Someone using Bennett Accounting's security clearance."

I stared at him. "That's impossible."

"Nothing is impossible where money is involved." The certainty in his voice unsettled me.

I searched his face for any sign he was exaggerating but he wasn't. He genuinely believed what he was saying.

"But why would anyone go looking for a file that's almost twenty years old?" I said

"That's exactly what I've been trying to discover."

The room fell silent again, not the awkward kind. The kind where two people were quietly rearranging everything they thought they knew.

I lowered my eyes to the final page and saw something that caught my attention.

A faint mark near the bottom, almost hidden beneath the edge of the paper. It looked as if another page had once been attached.

"There are pages missing."

Damien looked at the file. "There were."

“There were?" This time my eyes scanned the room “where did they go to?”

"They disappeared." Damien answered

"When?"

"Approximately two weeks before eight hundred thousand pounds vanished from your father's company."

Blood drained from my face as I looked at him sharply. “You think the two are connected”.

"I don't believe in coincidences, Miss Bennett."

"So what exactly are you asking me to do?" I asked.

Damien returned to the table with a calm, unreadable expression. "I'm asking you to find out what happened to those missing pages."

"And if I refuse?"

His eyes met mine. "Then whoever stole them will stay one step ahead of both of us."