Chapter 2 - THE FILE THAT SHOULD NOT EXIST
At 1:12 the following morning, Gabriel Russo placed a folder on Noelle's kitchen table and told her Derek Pierce had lied about more than the affair.
Noelle stared at the folder.
"You broke into his office?"
Gabriel sat across from her.
"No."
She narrowed her eyes.
"That answer arrived suspiciously quickly."
"I did not break into his office."
"Did one of your terrifying employees break into his office?"
Gabriel poured coffee.
"Noelle."
"Gabriel."
Silence.
Then he said, "A source gave me copies."
"That's mafia language for yes."
"It's business language for stop asking questions you won't enjoy having answered."
Her apartment looked even smaller with him inside it.
Gabriel belonged in marble penthouses and private elevators, not at a scratched kitchen table beneath a light fixture that buzzed whenever the refrigerator turned on.
Yet somehow he looked comfortable.
Noelle opened the folder.
The first page was a Hearthline expense report.
Her old electronic signature appeared at the bottom.
She recognized the transaction immediately.
$87,500.
Consulting services.
Pierce Urban Strategies.
"I've seen this."
Gabriel nodded.
"They used it during the internal investigation."
"I told everyone I never approved it."
"I know."
She looked up.
"How?"
"I read the case."
"You read my case?"
"I read everything about you after the night behind your apartment."
Noelle blinked.
Gabriel looked mildly embarrassed, which on him resembled annoyance.
She returned to the documents.
Another transfer.
Then another.
Hundreds of thousands of dollars routed through consulting firms.
Her stomach tightened.
"We already knew about these."
"Keep going."
Near the back, she found a bank authorization form.
Her breath stopped.
The authorization timestamp was 9:43 p.m. on October 18th.
Noelle remembered that date.
She remembered it because she had spent the entire night at Northwestern Memorial Hospital after her father suffered a stroke.
She had never been near the Hearthline office.
"That's impossible."
Gabriel nodded.
"Exactly."
She flipped the page.
Another authorization.
Same night.
Then a building access record.
Her keycard entered Hearthline headquarters at 9:38 p.m.
Noelle stared.
"Someone cloned my access."
"Probably."
"And my signature."
"Yes."
Noelle pushed back from the table.
"For two years Derek told everyone I approved those payments."
Gabriel watched her carefully.
"What aren't you telling me?"
She laughed bitterly.
"I was stupid."
"No."
"I trusted him."
"That isn't the same thing."
"It feels the same afterward."
Gabriel reached across the table.
His fingers touched hers.
She almost pulled away.
Almost.
"Why are you helping me?"
He looked at her for a long moment.
"Because six months ago you found a bleeding stranger behind your building and drove him to a clinic without asking what he could do for you."
"That doesn't mean you owe me."
"No."
"Then why?"
His thumb moved slowly across her knuckles.
"Maybe I don't like owing you."
Her pulse changed.
"That's not the truth."
"No."
Before she could ask again, his phone vibrated.
He checked the screen.
Every trace of warmth vanished.
"What happened?"
Gabriel stood.
"Lock your door."
"Gabriel."
"Someone accessed the Hearthline archive twenty minutes ago."
Noelle's stomach dropped.
"Which archive?"
"The original donor database."
She stared at him.
"That database was deleted after I left."
"Apparently not."
He showed her the message on his phone.
One file had been downloaded.
A file carrying Noelle's name.
NOELLE_HAYES_PRIVATE_BACKUP.
She whispered, "I never created that."
Gabriel looked toward her dark apartment window.
"No."
His hand moved beneath his jacket.
May you like
And when he spoke again, his voice was frighteningly calm.
"But someone created it three weeks before Derek forced you out."
