Chapter 4 - THE THREAT AGAINST THE BABY
Damien changed the apartment security in under ten minutes.
Ronan doubled Elena’s protection.
Gabrielle wanted her moved immediately.
Elena refused.
“No.”
Damien stared.
“This is not negotiable.”
She looked at him.
“You lost the right to use that sentence in my life about eight months ago.”
His face tightened.
“Someone threatened our daughter.”
“I read the email.”
“We’re leaving.”
“You’re leaving if you want.”
“Elena.”
“I will not be moved around like cargo while everyone else keeps the information.”
Gabrielle almost smiled.
Damien noticed.
“Something funny?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
Elena closed the laptop.
“If you want me somewhere safer, explain everything.”
Damien looked at Ronan.
Ronan nodded once.
They moved to Viktor’s old Beacon Hill townhouse, which had been empty since his death.
Not because Damien ordered it.
Because Elena chose it after reviewing the security plans.
That distinction mattered.
At noon, they sat around Viktor’s old dining table.
Gabrielle spread documents across the polished mahogany.
“The threat came through a server connected to Rotterdam.”
“Stefan,” Damien said.
“Maybe.”
Elena studied the language.
MRS. VASIC.
Not Elena.
Not sister-in-law.
Not any personal reference.
“How often did Stefan meet me?”
“Never,” Damien said.
“Then why assume he wrote this?”
Gabrielle frowned.
“Because of the server.”
“A server is not a person.”
Ronan looked at her.
“What are you thinking?”
“Someone wants us to believe Stefan is behind everything.”
Damien leaned back.
“Why?”
“Because he’s convenient.”
“A dead brother who isn’t dead is convenient?”
“For blame.”
Silence.
Elena pointed at the unauthorized login.
“Whoever approved the transfer used Damien’s credentials at 3:12 in the morning while he was physically in Nantucket.”
Ronan nodded.
“They’d need token access.”
“Where is the backup token stored?”
Damien answered.
“Executive safe at headquarters.”
“Who knows the code?”
“Me. Ronan. Chief financial officer.”
Elena looked up.
“Who is CFO now?”
“Marcus Bell.”
She knew Marcus.
Fifty-two.
Polished.
Quiet.
He had toasted her pregnancy at the company summer dinner and told Damien daughters changed men for the better.
She had disliked the sentence.
“Where was Marcus on the transfer date?”
Ronan checked.
“Boston.”
Gabrielle shook her head.
“Too obvious.”
“Sometimes obvious is efficient.”
Damien looked at Elena.
“You think Marcus is involved?”
“I think we investigate everyone with access.”
“Even Ronan?”
Ronan nodded before Damien could object.
“Yes.”
Damien looked offended on his behalf.
Elena didn’t care.
“Especially people we trust.”
The sentence landed.
Damien looked away.
Good.
By evening, Ronan had traced the forged token access.
The executive safe had been opened at 2:51 A.M.
Security logs showed Damien’s badge.
But Damien had been in Nantucket.
“Cloned badge,” Ronan said.
“Camera?” Elena asked.
“Disabled for twelve minutes.”
“Who can disable it?”
“Security administrator.”
Gabrielle looked at Ronan.
He did not react.
Elena did.
“Who?”
Ronan answered.
“My deputy.”
“Name?”
“Luke Mercer.”
Damien frowned.
“He’s been with us ten years.”
“So was your mistress’s firm,” Elena said.
Gabrielle winced.
Damien closed his eyes.
Fair.
Ronan called Luke.
No answer.
His apartment was empty.
His company vehicle had been found near Logan Airport.
Passport scan showed he boarded a flight to Lisbon at 6:02 that morning.
Elena looked at the clock.
Forty minutes before Gabrielle arrived.
“He ran.”
Damien nodded.
“Because he made the transfer.”
“Maybe.”
Elena still didn’t like it.
Too neat.
Then Ronan received a secure message.
His expression changed.
“What?”
He turned his phone toward them.
Luke Mercer had scheduled an email before boarding the plane.
It contained one sentence.
I DIDN’T STEAL THE TOKEN. I WAS TOLD TO COPY IT BY THE PERSON VIKTOR TRUSTED MOST.
Attached was a photograph.
Viktor Vasic at a private dinner three weeks before his death.
Beside him sat Marcus Bell.
The CFO.
And on Viktor’s other side—
Elena’s mother.
Marina Petrov.
Elena stared.
“My mother knew Viktor?”
Damien looked equally shocked.
May you like
Elena’s mother had died six years earlier.
At least that was what Elena had been told.
