Chapter 2 - Monday Morning Lies
By eight fifteen Monday morning, Mila had already decided she would resign.
By eight seventeen, she had decided resigning would look suspicious.
By eight twenty, she had decided she hated everyone.
The elevator rose toward the thirty-eighth floor of Romano Holdings while she stared at her reflection in the polished metal doors.
Hair pinned neatly.
Gray pencil skirt.
Cream blouse.
Low heels.
Professional.
Responsible.
Completely unlike the woman Luca had collected from a rain-soaked sidewalk less than thirty-six hours earlier.
Claire stood beside her holding two coffees.
“You're quiet.”
“I'm always quiet.”
“Not like this.”
Mila accepted the coffee.
“I made a bad decision Saturday night.”
Claire's eyebrows lifted.
“With a man?”
Mila nearly inhaled coffee.
“No.”
Claire smiled slowly.
“Oh, definitely with a man.”
“It wasn't like that.”
“Did he have a pulse?”
“Claire.”
“I'm listening.”
Mila stared at the elevator numbers.
She could not tell Claire.
Not yet.
She had spent most of Sunday answering questions from Luca and Adrian.
Where had she gone Friday?
Who had used her laptop?
Had she written down her password?
Had anyone borrowed her security card?
No.
No.
Absolutely not.
Adrian had discovered an unauthorized login to Romano Holdings' internal scheduling archive using Mila's credentials.
Whoever had logged in had opened one file.
A calendar attachment connected to a meeting Mila had scheduled six weeks earlier.
The meeting itself had later been canceled.
Or at least that was what Mila remembered.
Luca had told her almost nothing else.
That was the part making her angry.
He asked questions.
She answered.
She asked questions.
He changed subjects.
The elevator doors opened.
Conversation stopped across the reception area.
Mila noticed it immediately.
People pretended they had not been looking at her.
Fantastic.
“Why is everyone weird?” Claire whispered.
“Monday?”
“No. Monday makes people depressed. This is gossip.”
Mila walked toward her desk.
Her computer was gone.
Not turned off.
Gone.
She stopped.
A new laptop sat in its place beside a different phone.
Her office chair had been replaced too.
She looked toward Luca's glass-walled office.
He was already there.
Of course he was.
He stood beside the windows speaking with Adrian and another man Mila knew well.
Ethan Vale.
Chief Financial Officer.
Forty-one. Charming. Smooth. Married twice. Expensive watches. Perfect teeth. He remembered assistants' birthdays and sent flowers to receptionists when their dogs died.
Everyone liked Ethan.
Even Mila.
He noticed her and smiled.
“There she is.”
Mila entered Luca's office.
“What happened to my computer?”
“Good morning to you too,” Ethan said.
“Good morning. What happened to my computer?”
Adrian looked like he wanted to smile.
Luca did not.
“Security replacement,” Luca said.
“You could have told me.”
“I just did.”
“Before removing my equipment.”
“Mila.”
“Luca.”
Ethan's eyebrows rose.
She realized what she had done.
She had never addressed Luca that sharply in front of an executive.
Luca stared at her.
Then he turned to the other men.
“Give us the room.”
Ethan looked amused.
Adrian looked less amused.
They left.
Mila folded her arms.
“Are you angry with me?” Luca asked.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you're going to answer any questions today.”
“No.”
“Then yes.”
He walked behind his desk.
Mila noticed a second coffee near his laptop.
Her coffee.
One teaspoon of sugar.
No cream.
She stared at it.
Luca followed her gaze.
“I assumed you hadn't eaten.”
“You assumed correctly.”
He pushed the cup toward her.
“That isn't an answer.”
“No, it's coffee.”
She hated that she almost smiled.
She took it anyway.
“Someone used my credentials,” she said. “Someone opened a file. You know which file. You know why it matters. You also know enough to have your security chief search my apartment building before sunrise.”
Luca's face remained still.
“That means either I'm in trouble or you're in trouble.”
“Possibly both.”
The honesty startled her.
“Then tell me.”
“I can't.”
“Can't or won't?”
His silence answered.
Mila set the coffee down.
“Saturday night I did something humiliating.”
His gaze sharpened.
“You asked for help.”
“I texted my boss while drunk and told him to come get me.”
“Yes.”
“You actually came.”
“Yes.”
“And then I woke up and discovered someone had used my identity to access your system.”
“Yes.”
“If you say yes one more time, I may throw this coffee.”
“That's expensive equipment.”
“You can afford it.”
That did it.
A short laugh escaped him.
Actual laughter.
Only a second.
Mila stared.
Luca Romano laughed?
At her?
Something warm moved through her stomach.
She crushed it immediately.
“I'm serious.”
“So am I.”
His expression sobered.
“Your account has been secured. Adrian is reviewing everything.”
“Am I being investigated?”
“No.”
“Should I be?”
“No.”
That answer came too quickly.
Mila studied him.
“You trust me.”
It was not a question.
Luca leaned against the edge of the desk.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Another silence.
That silence felt different.
Personal.
Before he could answer, his intercom buzzed.
Claire's voice.
“Mr. Romano, Mr. Vale needs you in conference room three.”
Luca pressed the button.
“Five minutes.”
Mila turned to leave.
“Mila.”
She looked back.
“Do not access the archive.”
“Because?”
“Because I'm asking you not to.”
Her irritation returned.
“That isn't good enough.”
“For today, it has to be.”
The meeting in conference room three lasted almost two hours.
Mila attended because she always attended.
She took notes.
Tracked decisions.
Scheduled follow-ups.
No one mentioned the breach.
No one mentioned her account.
Ethan presented quarterly numbers with his usual easy confidence.
Adrian remained near the wall, silent.
Luca spoke little.
Mila noticed everything.
At 11:42, Ethan referenced a warehouse acquisition.
At 11:44, Luca corrected the acquisition date.
At 11:46, Ethan laughed it off.
Nothing unusual.
Except Mila remembered scheduling that acquisition meeting.
January 18.
Six weeks earlier.
The same week as the canceled confidential appointment.
Her pen stopped.
The confidential meeting had been scheduled for January 18 at 7:30 p.m.
Attendee name:
A. Mercer.
No company.
No email.
Private entrance.
Luca had later told Mila to delete it.
She had.
Or thought she had.
After lunch, Mila opened her new computer.
The archive icon was missing.
Of course.
She could have asked IT.
She didn't.
Instead, she opened her sent-email folder.
She searched January 18.
Most results were routine.
Then she found something odd.
At 6:12 p.m. that evening, she had emailed Luca:
Your 7:30 arrived early. Private elevator cleared.
Luca had replied:
Send him up.
Mila stared.
She remembered the visitor now.
Gray-haired man.
Brown overcoat.
Nervous.
He had carried a paper envelope.
Forty minutes later, he had left through the stairs instead of the elevator.
Mila had thought it strange.
Then, at 8:31, Luca had walked past her desk and said, “Cancel Mercer. Remove everything.”
So she had.
Why would someone now access that record?
Her phone rang.
Unknown number.
Mila answered.
“Romano Holdings, Mila Hart.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
A man's voice finally spoke.
“You should stop looking.”
The line went dead.
Mila remained motionless.
Her office suddenly seemed too open.
Too visible.
She stood.
Adrian appeared before she reached Luca's door.
“How do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Appear whenever I'm about to panic?”
“Professional skill.”
She held out her phone.
He listened as she explained.
His humor vanished.
“Come with me.”
Luca was in a meeting.
Adrian interrupted anyway.
That told Mila more than anything.
Luca excused everyone.
“What happened?”
Mila repeated the call.
Luca's face turned cold.
Not angry.
Worse.
Controlled.
“Number?”
“Blocked.”
Adrian took her phone.
“I'll run it.”
Mila looked at Luca.
“Still not going to tell me?”
“No.”
She laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
“Of course.”
“Mila—”
“No. Someone used my credentials. Someone called me at work and told me to stop looking. I'm apparently part of something I don't understand, and your answer is still no.”
“I am trying to keep you out of it.”
“You're doing a terrible job.”
Luca's expression changed.
She saw fear.
Not for himself.
For her.
That frightened her enough to lower her voice.
“What was in the Mercer file?”
Luca went still.
Adrian looked between them.
“You remember the name?” Luca asked.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because I remember my work.”
She crossed her arms.
“Who was he?”
Luca said nothing.
Mila's frustration boiled over.
“Fine.”
She left.
At five thirty, most employees began heading home.
Mila stayed.
Partly because she had work.
Mostly because she refused to be frightened out of her own office.
Claire left at six fifteen after making Mila promise to text when she got home.
At six forty, Ethan stopped beside her desk.
“Still here?”
“Unfortunately.”
He smiled.
“You've had a rough day.”
Mila looked up.
“Why?”
Something shifted in his expression.
Only for a moment.
“Everyone noticed the computer swap.”
“Right.”
Ethan leaned against her desk.
“Luca can be intense when he's worried.”
Mila's fingers stopped over her keyboard.
“Worried?”
“Protective, then.”
“About company security?”
Ethan smiled.
“Sure.”
He walked away.
Mila watched him enter the elevator.
Something bothered her.
Not what he had said.
Something else.
She replayed the conversation.
Then she saw it.
Ethan had looked at her new laptop.
And said computer swap.
Most employees only knew IT had replaced her system.
No one knew why.
Maybe nothing.
Probably nothing.
Mila packed her bag.
As she shut down the computer, a notification appeared from the new security system.
Legacy file restored from backup.
She froze.
One file sat on her desktop.
No title.
Just a string of numbers.
Mila clicked it.
A scanned document opened.
At the top:
CONFIDENTIAL TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION
Below that were several company names.
One belonged to Romano Holdings.
Another she did not recognize.
At the bottom was Luca's signature.
Except Mila knew Luca's signature.
She had seen it thousands of times.
This one was wrong.
Very good.
But wrong.
And beside it was a digital approval code assigned to one employee.
Mila stared at the initials.
M.H.
Her own.
Then she noticed the timestamp.
Saturday.
1:36 a.m.
Seven minutes before she had sent Luca her drunken message.
Someone had forged Luca's approval.
And used Mila to authorize it.
A shadow moved across the glass behind her.
Mila turned.
The office should have been empty.
It wasn't.
Someone was standing near the elevators.
May you like
Watching her.
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