Chapter 2 — The Accounts They Hid
Chapter 2 — The Accounts They Hid
The name on the screen refused to disappear.
EDWARD VALE.
My father's name.
Dead for two years.
Yet somehow, his security credentials had just been used to access my resort.
I stared at the monitor.
Richard stood several feet behind me.
Neither of us spoke.
The room was still dark except for the pale glow of the screens.
Then I heard a quiet click.
The conference room door locked.
Richard flinched.
I turned toward him.
“You said you didn't have control.”
“I don't.”
“You said my father gave you instructions.”
“He did.”
“And now someone is using his credentials.”
“Yes.”
“Then tell me what you know.”
Richard shook his head.
“I don't know enough.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
He looked at the screen again.
“I know that money started disappearing eighteen months ago.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“At first, a few hundred thousand.”
“And then?”
“Millions.”
“How many millions?”
Richard hesitated.
“Enough to destroy the resort.”
I walked toward him.
“Give me a number.”
“Seventy-three.”
I froze.
“Seventy-three million dollars?”
He nodded.
“Approximately.”
The room seemed to shrink around me.
“You moved seventy-three million dollars?”
“No.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
“Richard.”
“I swear.”
I studied his face.
For the first time, he didn't look like a liar.
He looked terrified.
I turned toward Nora.
“Bring the financial team back.”
“They're waiting downstairs.”
“Bring them all.”
Twenty minutes later, the conference room was full again.
The screens displayed bank statements.
Transaction histories.
Corporate structures.
Wire transfers.
Shell companies.
Trust accounts.
I sat at the head of the table.
Richard remained standing against the wall under security supervision.
The forensic accountant, Melissa Grant, connected her laptop.
“Madam Founder, we've completed the first pass.”
“Tell me how bad it is.”
She hesitated.
“It's worse than we thought.”
“Show me.”
The first screen appeared.
HORIZON CROWN RESORTS — OPERATING ACCOUNT
Opening balance:
$126,400,000.
Current balance:
$8,721,443.
I stared at the difference.
“Where did the money go?”
Melissa changed the screen.
A list of transactions appeared.
$4,800,000 — Meridian Strategic Consulting
$7,250,000 — Blue Harbor Holdings
$3,900,000 — Northstar Development
$6,100,000 — Vale Advisory Group
$9,700,000 — Crescent Capital Services
I frowned.
“Consulting?”
“Yes.”
“What services?”
“That is the problem.”
“There are no contracts.”
“No invoices.”
“No employee records.”
“No offices.”
I looked at Richard.
He stared at the floor.
I turned back.
“Keep going.”
More transactions appeared.
Twenty thousand.
Fifty thousand.
Two hundred thousand.
Then millions.
Some were labeled as consulting.
Others as construction.
Others as legal expenses.
Some were simply marked:
SPECIAL PROJECT.
I felt a chill.
“What's the total?”
Melissa entered a calculation.
The number appeared.
$73,418,922.17
Nobody spoke.
I leaned back.
“That's not missing money.”
Melissa nodded.
“No.”
“It's organized theft.”
Another silence.
Then Daniel Brooks, the CFO, spoke.
“There's more.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He opened another file.
“Those are only the direct transfers.”
“What are the indirect transfers?”
He displayed another list.
Credit cards.
Private aircraft.
Luxury properties.
Offshore investment accounts.
Personal expenses.
“Someone used resort funds to purchase these.”
“How much?”
“Approximately twenty-one million.”
I stared.
“Twenty-one million on personal expenses?”
“Yes.”
I looked at Richard.
“Whose?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“Then find out.”
Melissa interrupted.
“We already did.”
Everyone looked at her.
She enlarged one transaction.
$2,400,000 — VANESSA ROSS
My blood ran cold.
“Vanessa.”
“Yes.”
“What was that?”
“Property.”
“Where?”
“Monaco.”
I stared at the screen.
“Vanessa bought a property in Monaco with resort money?”
“It appears so.”
Richard finally spoke.
“I didn't authorize that.”
I turned toward him.
“You signed the authorization.”
He went pale.
“What?”
Melissa displayed the document.
His signature was at the bottom.
Richard stepped forward.
“That isn't mine.”
I looked at him.
“You told me this before.”
“Yes.”
“Your signature has been forged too?”
He stared at the screen.
“I…”
He couldn't finish.
I leaned forward.
“Maybe you aren't the thief.”
Richard looked at me.
“Maybe you're the victim.”
His eyes widened.
“But then…”
“Someone has been using your identity too.”
He looked terrified.
“Why?”
I didn't answer.
Because I was thinking the same thing.
If someone had forged my signature…
and Richard's…
then they didn't merely want money.
They wanted control.
At 2:13 a.m., we found the first hidden account.
It was buried beneath an inactive corporate entity.
Crown Meridian Trust.
Melissa opened it.
The account contained:
$214,600,000.
I stared.
“What?”
Nobody moved.
“That's impossible.”
Melissa nodded.
“We thought so too.”
“Where did it come from?”
“That's what we're trying to determine.”
“Show me the deposits.”
She opened the history.
The first deposits were small.
$50,000.
$75,000.
$100,000.
Then:
$2 million.
$5 million.
$12 million.
$20 million.
The deposits increased over time.
But there was something strange.
Every large transfer had the same authorization code.
I recognized it.
My father's code.
EV-01.
My heart stopped.
“That's my father's authorization.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because your father stopped using that code before he died.”
“How do you know?”
“I was there.”
“When?”
“Six months before his death.”
I looked at him.
“What happened?”
“He told me the code was compromised.”
“Compromised by whom?”
“I don't know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
I stood.
“Then let's find someone who does know.”
The IT director was brought in at 3:02 a.m.
He looked exhausted.
His name was Victor Lane.
He had worked at the resort since its opening.
“Mr. Lane.”
“Yes, Madam Founder.”
“Who can use the EV-01 authorization code?”
He hesitated.
“Technically?”
“Yes.”
“Three people.”
“Who?”
“Your father.”
“Obviously.”
“You.”
“I haven't used it in two years.”
“And?”
He swallowed.
“Richard.”
Richard looked at him.
“I don't have access anymore.”
“Not anymore,” Victor said.
“When did it disappear?”
“Eighteen months ago.”
I looked at the transaction dates.
Exactly eighteen months.
“Who removed Richard's access?”
Victor opened his laptop.
“Someone with administrator privileges.”
“Name?”
“Edward Vale.”
My father.
Again.
I felt my chest tighten.
“My father was dead.”
“I know.”
“Then who logged in?”
Victor looked at me.
“That's what scared me.”
“What?”
“The account wasn't accessed remotely.”
“Then?”
“Someone used the physical administrator terminal.”
“Where?”
Victor hesitated.
“Basement level three.”
I stared at him.
“Does the resort still have that terminal?”
“Yes.”
“Take me there.”
The basement smelled of dust and saltwater.
The resort had been built over an old military storage facility.
Most guests never knew.
Neither did I.
The terminal was behind a steel door.
Victor entered the access code.
The door opened.
Inside was a small room.
One desk.
One computer.
One security camera.
And a red light blinking above the terminal.
Victor froze.
“That shouldn't be on.”
“Why?”
“Because this system was decommissioned.”
I stepped closer.
“Turn it on.”
He hesitated.
Then pressed the power button.
The screen flickered.
A login prompt appeared.
USERNAME: EDWARD VALE
Victor whispered:
“No.”
The cursor moved by itself.
A password appeared.
The system logged in.
Richard stepped backward.
“This isn't possible.”
A folder opened.
FINANCIAL ARCHIVE — PRIVATE
Inside were hundreds of files.
I opened the first.
A list of transfers.
The second.
A list of names.
The third.
A photograph.
My father.
Standing beside Richard.
I stared.
The date on the photograph was three months after my father supposedly died.
My hands began to shake.
“That's impossible.”
Richard walked toward the screen.
“That's him.”
“You said he was dead.”
“He was.”
“Then explain this.”
He couldn't.
I opened another file.
It contained a video.
I pressed play.
My father's face appeared.
Older.
Tired.
Alive.
He looked directly into the camera.
“If you're watching this, Amelia…”
My breath caught.
“…then something has gone very wrong.”
I couldn't move.
My father's voice continued.
“I know what Richard has done.”
Richard whispered:
“No.”
“He believes he can control the resort.”
My father paused.
“But he doesn't understand who controls it.”
I looked at Richard.
He looked like he was going to collapse.
The video continued.
“The money you're looking for isn't missing.”
I leaned closer.
“It was moved.”
“To protect you.”
My father's eyes became serious.
“Because the people who want the resort aren't interested in its profits.”
The screen went black for a moment.
Then one sentence appeared.
THEY WANT WHAT IS BURIED UNDER IT.
I stared.
“What is buried under the resort?”
Nobody answered.
Then the video resumed.
My father looked directly into the camera.
“Amelia, if you ever return…”
He stopped.
His expression changed.
Fear appeared in his eyes.
“If Edward Vale is using my name…”
He whispered:
“Do not trust him.”
The video ended.
Silence filled the room.
I slowly turned toward Richard.
His face was white.
“Who is Edward Vale?”
He looked at me.
I felt a chill.
“My father.”
Richard shook his head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
He whispered:
“Your father's brother.”
I froze.
“My uncle?”
Richard nodded.
“The man everyone believed died forty years ago.”
I returned to the executive floor at dawn.
I couldn't sleep.
I couldn't think.
The numbers were still on my mind.
Seventy-three million stolen.
Twenty-one million spent.
Two hundred fourteen million hidden.
And now a dead man's account.
A secret relative.
A resort built over something worth more than money.
Nora entered carrying another folder.
“You need to see this.”
I looked up.
“What now?”
She placed the folder on the desk.
“We traced the $214 million.”
“To whom?”
“Not to a person.”
“To what?”
She opened the folder.
A photograph was inside.
An old blueprint.
The resort.
Beneath it—
a massive underground structure.
I stared.
“What is that?”
“The original foundation plans.”
“And?”
Nora pointed to the bottom.
“There's a vault beneath the resort.”
I looked at her.
“How deep?”
“Forty meters.”
“Who built it?”
She hesitated.
“Your father.”
I looked at the blueprint again.
A note was written in the margin.
PROPERTY OF THE VALE FAMILY.
I felt cold.
“Why would my father build a vault under my resort?”
Nora shook her head.
“We don't know.”
Then she pointed to one final line.
ACCESS REQUIRES TWO FOUNDERS.
I frowned.
“Two?”
“Yes.”
“Who is the second founder?”
Nora looked at me.
“We don't know.”
Before I could respond, every light in the office flickered.
My computer turned on.
A message appeared.
YOU FOUND THE MONEY.
Then another line.
NOW FIND THE PERSON WHO STOLE IT.
I stared.
A final message appeared.
HE IS CLOSER THAN YOU THINK.
The screen went black.
I slowly turned toward the glass wall.
Richard was standing outside.
But he wasn't alone.
A woman stood beside him.
Vanessa.
And in her hand was a folder.
She looked through the glass directly at me.
Then she smiled.
Not nervously.
Not apologetically.
Confidently.
As if she had just won.
Richard looked terrified.
Vanessa lifted the folder.
Across its cover were three words:
AMELIA'S ORIGINAL WILL.
My blood ran cold.
I opened the door.
“Vanessa.”
She smiled.
“Founder.”
“What do you have?”
She held up the folder.
“The reason you never really owned this resort.”
I stared at her.
“Give it to me.”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why bring it here?”
Her smile disappeared.
“Because I finally understand what Richard was too afraid to tell you.”
“What?”
Vanessa stepped closer.
“The money wasn't stolen from you.”
She lowered her voice.
“It was paid to someone.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the floor.
Toward the forty-meter-deep vault beneath us.
Then she whispered:
“Your father.”
I stared at her.
“My father is dead.”
Vanessa's expression hardened.
“That's what they wanted you to believe.”
She opened the folder.
Inside was a bank transfer.
The recipient name was unmistakable.
EDWARD VALE.
The date was yesterday.
And the amount was:
$10,000,000.
I looked at Richard.
He closed his eyes.
Then I understood.
The seventy-three million wasn't the beginning.
It was only the amount we'd found.
Someone was still moving money.
Someone was still using my father's identity.
And whoever was behind it had just transferred another ten million dollars—
while I was standing in my own resort.
I looked toward the locked elevator.
“Open the vault.”
Richard stared at me.
“You can't.”
“Why?”
“Because the vault wasn't built to keep people out.”
I waited.
May you like
Richard swallowed.
“It was built to keep something in.”
