CHAPTER 20: The Anomaly

Sybil

I stared at the thick, cream-colored cardstock resting on the center of my desk.

‘You are cordially invited to celebrate the engagement of Elias Stavros and Quinn Hayes.’

The elegant, golden foil caught the light from the overhead fixtures. The stark reality of the impending marriage hit me far harder than I ever expected. My stomach twisted into a tight, painful knot.

I knew Elias was engaged. I knew my presence here was purely a biological contract. But seeing their names printed side by side on expensive paper made it entirely real.

I looked up. Quinn had not walked back to the elevators. She stood directly in front of my desk, watching my face.

She wore a polite, perfectly practiced smile. But her eyes were sharp.

She set a thick white binder down next to the stack of invitations. "The mailing list is in the front pocket. I need you to organize the vendor logistics for the wedding events. Cross-reference the catering numbers with the venue capacities."

"I will take care of it, Ms. Hayes," I said.

"Elias mentioned you were very efficient," she noted. She smoothed a hand over her tailored white dress. "It is important to have reliable help right now. Especially given the current... arrangement."

I kept my hands resting flat on my desk. I did not react to the word.

Quinn knew. Elias had told his fiancée exactly why I was working on the top floor and living in the west wing.

"I am sure it must be strange for you," she continued casually. She picked up one of the invitations and traced the golden foil with her manicured fingernail. "Stepping into a world like this. But you have to remember how things work at this level. Some women are just temporary vessels. They provide a basic service, they collect their paycheck, and they quietly disappear."

She placed the invitation back on the stack. She looked directly into my eyes, making sure her next words landed exactly where she wanted them to.

"But it takes a completely different kind of woman to actually build a legacy," she added. "It takes elite breeding to rule an empire."

The insult was clear. She was drawing a thick, permanent line between us. She was the future wife, the elite partner. I was just the hired help who was biologically required to carry the child.

I felt a sudden, sharp sting of humiliation, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of seeing it. I took a slow breath and maintained a flawless composure. I did not frown, and I did not look away.

"I completely agree," I replied smoothly. "Organization is very important for a legacy. I will make sure the vendor files are updated by three o'clock."

Quinn’s polite smile faltered. My calm, detached response visibly frustrated her. She wanted me to act jealous. She wanted me to look hurt or defensive. When I gave her absolutely nothing, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"See that you do," she snapped.

She turned away from my desk and walked directly toward Elias’s office. She did not knock. She opened the heavy wooden doors and stepped inside.

I could see Elias sitting at his desk. When he looked up and saw Quinn, his rigid posture relaxed. The cold, corporate mask he wore around me shifted into something much more welcoming.

"Quinn," Elias said, his voice entirely lacking the harsh edge he used to command the rest of the building.

Quinn stepped into his office and pulled the doors shut behind her. The lock clicked into place and I was left alone in the quiet reception area.

I stared at the closed doors for a long minute. The dull ache in my chest was heavy, but I shoved it down. I could not afford to sit at my desk and feel sorry for myself. I had a job to do.

I reached out and pulled the white vendor binder toward me. I opened it and started entering the logistics into the corporate database.

I worked for two hours in total silence. I matched the catering invoices to the guest lists. I verified the venue deposits and it was basic administrative work.

But as I reached the back of the binder, I opened the tab labeled ‘Security Operations’.

I started typing the numbers into my spreadsheet. My fingers suddenly slowed down, and then they stopped completely. I frowned at the monitor. I looked down at the invoice in the binder, then back up at my screen.

I used to work in the strategy department. I spent two years analyzing corporate risk and domestic shipping routes for Stavros Enterprises. I knew how to read a balance sheet better than anyone on this floor, except maybe the brothers themselves.

There was a glaring financial anomaly staring right back at me.

The security logistics for the private island venue where the wedding was being held were completely wrong.

The invoice listed a two million dollar deposit for private contractors. But the routing numbers at the bottom of the page did not belong to the estate’s usual security firm.

I pulled up the central corporate registry on my second monitor. I typed in the routing numbers from the invoice.

The funds were not going to a security firm at all. They were being routed into a blind subsidiary holding company.

It was a shell account. Someone was severely inflating the wedding logistics and funneling millions of dollars out of the company under the guise of private security.

My heart started to beat faster.

This was not a simple clerical error. This was a highly calculated embezzlement. And Quinn had just handed me the binder herself.

I needed to report it immediately. I looked at Elias's closed doors.

He was still inside with Quinn. They had ordered lunch an hour ago. He was distracted by the woman he planned to marry, the same woman who had personally delivered the corrupted files to my desk.

If I walked into his office right now and accused his fiancée or her wedding planners of corporate fraud, Elias would demand proof. He might even think I was making the accusation out of spite because of the invitations.

I could not take this to the CEO. Not yet.

I closed the white binder. I highlighted the routed account numbers on my screen and printed the spreadsheet. I grabbed the printed paper and the security invoices from the binder.

I stood up from my desk.

If there was a massive blind spot in the company’s security logistics, there was only one person who needed to see it.

I was going to hand the problem directly to the one man who already suspected everyone in the building.

I was taking it to Casimir.