Chapter 9 - At the Company Gala, Gregory Learned I Had Kept One Copy He Couldn’t Destroy
Apex held its annual leadership gala despite half its executive team being under investigation.
That told me everything I needed to know about corporate America.
The event took place at the Grand Meridian Hotel.
Crystal chandeliers.
Champagne.
String quartet.
People who had ignored me at work suddenly wanted to tell me how brave they thought I was.
I attended because my attorney suggested it.
Also because federal investigators wanted someone to watch Gregory.
He had not been arrested yet.
His lawyers negotiated constantly.
He still believed he could survive.
Leo arrived twenty minutes after I did.
I had specifically asked him not to enter beside me.
Not because I was ashamed.
Because I wanted to walk into that room as Norah Hayes.
Not Leo Marchetti’s woman.
He understood.
That mattered more than flowers would have.
Gregory approached me near the bar.
“You look well.”
“You look employed.”
His smile tightened.
“Funny.”
“I’m learning.”
He leaned closer.
“You think Marchetti protects you?”
“No.”
That surprised him.
“I protect myself.”
“Right.”
He glanced toward Leo across the ballroom.
“You just happen to have a mob boss watching.”
“He’s watching you.”
Gregory’s confidence flickered.
“You have no idea what you're involved in.”
“Then explain it.”
“You think Avery is the top?”
I said nothing.
“You think Salvatore is?”
Still nothing.
Gregory smiled.
“There are people with more money and influence than your boyfriend can imagine.”
“Not my boyfriend.”
“Sure.”
I wanted to slap him.
Instead, I noticed his hand.
He wore a silver signet ring.
I had seen it before.
Not on Gregory.
On a scanned approval document.
A wax seal used on private holding-company agreements.
Same emblem.
Apex’s hidden ownership entity.
“Where did you get that ring?”
Gregory looked down.
Too quickly.
“Family.”
“What family?”
He stepped backward.
Conversation over.
I watched him cross the ballroom.
Then I texted the investigator stationed outside.
Photograph Gregory’s ring.
An hour later, they identified the crest.
Westbridge Trust.
A private family office that owned seventeen percent of Apex through layered entities.
Its chairman was Senator-turned-investor Malcolm Wren.
Not a politician anymore, but still powerful.
Wren had built a post-public-life fortune investing in infrastructure.
Including private ports.
The missing-money scheme was larger than Apex.
The fake medication shipments funded strategic purchases of distressed shipping terminals.
If Marchetti docks became associated with contraband, regulators would suspend operations.
Property values would collapse.
Westbridge could buy.
Leo had been framed not simply to damage him.
Someone wanted his ports.
Gregory must have received the ring from Wren or someone close to him.
We needed proof.
I had one thing.
A copy of a file nobody knew I kept.
Not stolen.
Not company proprietary.
My own handwritten reconciliation notebook.
Every accountant has habits.
Mine was writing anomalous authorization numbers by hand before entering them digitally.
Three months earlier, I had copied a sequence beside several suspicious payments.
W-17 / W-17 / W-17.
At the time I thought it was an internal workflow code.
Now I knew.
Westbridge.
I showed federal agents.
They cross-referenced the numbers.
Payments moved from shell vendors into a Westbridge subsidiary.
The case exploded.
Wren’s attorneys denied everything.
Apex shares crashed.
The board scheduled an emergency meeting.
And Gregory disappeared.
His ankle monitor had not yet been required because he was still only under investigation.
His phone was found in an airport parking lot.
No flight record.
No hotel.
Nothing.
That evening, Leo came to my apartment—my real apartment, repaired after the break-in.
We stood in the kitchen.
“You need to leave the city.”
“No.”
“Gregory is desperate.”
“No.”
“Norah.”
“I’m tired of running from men who make bad choices.”
“This isn't pride.”
“It isn't.”
“What is it?”
I looked around my apartment.
My cheap couch.
Ben’s photograph on the refrigerator.
The mug Rebecca gave me.
“My life.”
Leo became quiet.
“I finally came home.”
He nodded.
“Then security stays outside.”
“Outside.”
“Yes.”
I expected him to argue.
He didn't.
He stayed for dinner.
Burned pasta.
He claimed the stove was defective.
It wasn't.
At 11:20, he left.
At 11:43, my building fire alarm sounded.
I grabbed my phone and coat.
Opened the door.
Smoke drifted faintly through the hallway.
My security officer was gone.
Elevator disabled.
I headed toward the stairs.
Halfway down, someone stepped from the landing below.
Gregory.
He looked terrible.
Unshaven.
Eyes red.
“You ruined everything.”
I froze.
He held no gun.
That didn't make me feel safe.
“Gregory.”
“I was supposed to be regional president.”
He laughed.
“Do you understand that?”
“Move away from the stairs.”
“You should have taken the drink.”
The exact words from the threat.
My blood went cold.
He climbed one step.
I moved backward.
“Everything would have been easier.”
“Not for me.”
“You were nobody.”
His face twisted.
“An analyst with a crippled brother and rent she could barely pay.”
My hand tightened around my phone inside my coat pocket.
“You needed me scared.”
“I needed you manageable.”
There it was.
The entire truth of him in one sentence.
He climbed another step.
I pressed the emergency call button on my phone.
Not Leo.
Then I pulled the red fire extinguisher from the wall.
Gregory laughed.
“What are you going to do with that?”
I removed the safety pin.
May you like
“Find out.”
For the first time, his smile disappeared.
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