Chapter 2 - The Signature That Wasn’t Hers
Natalie read the message twice.
“That’s impossible.”
Roman watched her carefully.
“My account?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t delete anything.”
“I didn’t say you did.”
“But you’re thinking it.”
“No.”
His answer came too quickly for comfort.
Natalie folded her arms.
“You barely know me.”
“I know enough.”
“You met me ten minutes ago while I was insulting you through drywall.”
“Twenty-seven minutes.”
“That makes it much better.”
Roman almost smiled again.
Then his attention returned to the security alert.
The ballroom around them continued preparing for the gala as if nothing had happened.
Servers polished glasses.
Florists adjusted roses.
Nobody seemed to notice that someone had just attempted to erase six years of financial history.
“Come with me,” Roman said.
Natalie didn’t move.
“Where?”
“My office.”
“That sentence sounds much more threatening when you say it.”
Roman looked at her.
“You prefer the ballroom?”
She glanced toward Victoria.
“No.”
Roman led her through a private elevator and up to the hotel’s executive floor.
His office overlooked Manhattan.
Natalie barely noticed.
Three computer screens were already active when they entered.
Vincent Hale stood near the desk.
Beside him was Elena Torres, the hotel’s cybersecurity director.
Elena turned toward Natalie.
“Ms. Brooks?”
“Yes.”
“Do you have your employee phone?”
Natalie handed it over.
“When did you last log into the financial system?”
“This morning. Around eight-thirty.”
Elena typed.
“The deletion occurred at 6:42 p.m.”
“I was downstairs.”
“We know.”
Natalie looked at Roman.
“You checked?”
“The hotel has cameras.”
“Of course it does.”
Elena continued.
“The login came from an administrative workstation on the twenty-ninth floor.”
Natalie frowned.
“I’ve never been on twenty-nine.”
Roman knew that floor.
Executive accounting.
Access restricted.
“Who can enter?” he asked.
“Accounting leadership, senior management, ownership.”
“And events directors?” Natalie asked.
Elena looked at her.
“Victoria Crane has temporary access during major events.”
The room became silent.
Natalie slowly sat down.
“This is about Victoria.”
“Maybe,” Vincent said.
Roman gave him a look.
Vincent corrected himself.
“She’s relevant.”
Natalie told them everything.
The altered invoices.
Harold’s supposed authorizations.
Victoria’s request.
The missing money.
Roman listened without interruption.
When she finished, he asked, “Do you have copies?”
Natalie opened her bag.
A flash drive appeared.
Roman stared at it.
Natalie shrugged.
“My grandmother taught me two things. Never trust hotel coffee after midnight, and always make backups.”
“Your grandmother worked in hotels?”
“No. She was paranoid.”
Roman held out his hand.
Natalie gave him the drive.
Elena inserted it into an isolated laptop.
Files appeared.
Invoices.
Approval logs.
Vendor contracts.
Natalie had documented everything.
Vincent looked impressed.
“You collected all this yourself?”
“During lunch breaks.”
Roman looked at her differently.
Natalie noticed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“That was definitely something.”
“You’re thorough.”
“Is that a compliment?”
“Don’t become accustomed to them.”
She rolled her eyes.
Vincent looked between them and wisely said nothing.
Elena opened one invoice.
“Here.”
The original vendor charge was $12,400.
The final payment was $19,900.
Another had increased from $8,200 to $14,600.
The extra money had gone to companies Natalie didn’t recognize.
Blue Meridian Hospitality.
Crown Atlantic Services.
Easton Event Logistics.
Vincent’s face tightened.
Roman noticed.
“You know those names.”
Vincent hesitated.
“Blue Meridian appeared in another investigation.”
“What investigation?”
“One involving your father.”
Roman went completely still.
Natalie looked between them.
Roman’s father, Carlo Duca, had died nine years earlier.
Publicly, Carlo had been described as a businessman with complicated associations.
Privately, everyone in New York who mattered knew the Duca name had once carried a very different kind of power.
Roman had spent years moving legitimate businesses away from the shadows his family had created.
But shadows had long memories.
“What does my father have to do with hotel invoices?” Roman asked.
“We don’t know yet.”
Roman’s phone rang.
Harold Bennett.
Roman answered.
“Mr. Bennett.”
Harold sounded breathless.
“Mr. Duca, I think there’s something you need to see.”
“Where are you?”
“Loading dock.”
Roman glanced at Natalie.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“That wasn’t a request.”
“That’s unfortunate because I’m still saying no.”
Vincent looked down to hide a smile.
Roman stared at Natalie.
She stared back.
Finally, he said, “Fine.”
They went downstairs.
Harold waited beside a locked storage cage.
When he saw Natalie, relief crossed his face.
“You’re okay.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?”
Harold looked toward Roman.
“Someone searched my office.”
Natalie’s stomach dropped.
“Anything missing?”
“A notebook.”
“What notebook?”
Harold hesitated.
Then he unlocked the cage.
Inside was an old filing cabinet.
From the bottom drawer he removed a yellow envelope.
“I started noticing strange invoices two years ago.”
Natalie stared.
“Two years?”
“I reported them.”
“To whom?”
“Victoria.”
Natalie felt sick.
Harold handed the envelope to Roman.
Inside were photocopies.
Dozens of them.
Roman examined the documents.
One vendor appeared repeatedly.
Blue Meridian Hospitality.
The payments went back six years.
The total exceeded two million dollars.
Vincent swore under his breath.
Roman looked at Harold.
“Why didn’t you bring this to me?”
Harold gave a tired laugh.
“People like me don’t get meetings with people like you.”
Roman said nothing.
The words landed harder than Harold intended.
Natalie saw it.
For all his power, Roman had built a system where an honest employee believed the owner was unreachable.
Maybe her criticism through the wall hadn’t been entirely wrong.
Harold continued.
“Three months ago, I found something else.”
He removed one final sheet.
It was an authorization document.
At the bottom was a signature.
Roman Duca.
Roman stared at it.
“That isn’t mine.”
“I know.”
“How?”
Harold swallowed.
“Because the date is nine years ago.”
Natalie didn’t understand.
Then Vincent did.
His face changed.
“Roman…”
“What?”
Vincent pointed to the date.
Roman read it again.
His father had died on October 14.
The document was dated October 17.
Three days later.
Natalie whispered, “Someone was moving money after your father died.”
Roman’s expression became unreadable.
Harold nodded.
“And they were using both your signatures.”
Roman looked at the pages.
This wasn’t theft committed by an opportunistic employee.
It had begun before Roman fully controlled the hotel.
Someone had created a hidden financial pipeline and kept it alive for nearly a decade.
A system inside his own company.
A system he had never seen.
His phone vibrated.
Elena.
“Roman, we recovered part of the deleted archive.”
“What did you find?”
“There’s a personnel file attached to one of the old payment accounts.”
“Whose?”
Elena paused.
“Natalie Brooks.”
Everyone looked at Natalie.
“What?” she whispered.
Roman’s voice sharpened.
“What year?”
“Six years ago.”
Natalie’s face went pale.
That was when she had started working at the Harrington Grand.
Elena continued.
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Her hiring authorization.”
Natalie looked confused.
“Victoria hired me.”
“No,” Elena said.
“The system shows your application was rejected by Victoria Crane.”
Natalie stopped breathing.
“Then how did I get the job?”
Elena answered quietly.
“Someone overruled her.”
Roman frowned.
“Who?”
Another pause.
“Carlo Duca.”
Roman’s father.
Nine years dead.
Yet somehow his authorization had appeared three years after his death.
Natalie stared at Roman.
Roman stared at the document in Harold’s hands.
And suddenly the mystery was no longer about missing hotel money.
May you like
Someone had been using a dead man’s authority for years.
And for reasons neither of them understood, that same person had made certain Natalie Brooks entered the Harrington Grand.
