Chapter 2 - THE CALCULATED RISK
"Two hundred million dollars," Alessandro said, his voice a low, dangerous hum that seemed to vibrate against the crystal glasses on the mahogany table. He didn't look at his executives; he was looking entirely at Cassidy. "That is what Harrison Vane was about to steal from me. And you, a waitress at a steakhouse, found it in three seconds."
Cassidy swallowed hard, her fingers gripping the edge of her silver tray. The adrenaline that had propelled her to speak was draining away, leaving behind a cold, sharp terror. She had just humiliated twenty of the most dangerous, highly-paid men in New York. Sterling Rock, the lead executive, was glaring at her with a mix of fury and panic.
"Mr. Duca," Sterling stammered, stepping forward. "This is an anomaly. We had teams of auditors—"
"Quiet," Giovanni Ricci snapped. The older man moved closer to Cassidy, his eyes assessing her not as a threat, but as an asset. "What else did you see on that paper, girl?"
Cassidy forced herself to breathe. "I only saw the first page of the asset schedule. But if Vane is passing off a scrapped ship from Chittagong as a 2018 Liberian build, he's not just inflating his valuation. He's trying to transfer dead assets to your books. When the federal authorities inevitably audit the new acquisition, they won't find Vane's fingerprints. They'll find yours. It's a setup. He wants you in prison, Mr. Duca."
Alessandro stood up slowly. He buttoned his suit jacket, his dark eyes never leaving hers. "What is your name?"
"Cassidy. Cassidy Miller."
"Cassidy Miller," he repeated, tasting the syllables. "Take off the apron."
"Excuse me?"
"You are no longer a waitress," Alessandro stated, turning to his men. "Pack up these files. We are not signing. Preston, contact Vane's people and tell them the deal is dead. Tell them I know about the Osprey Dawn. Let him sweat." He turned back to Cassidy. "My car is downstairs. You are coming with me."
Henri, the maître d', finally found his voice. "Sir, she's on shift—"
Giovanni handed Henri a stack of hundred-dollar bills, silencing him instantly.
Cassidy hesitated. Getting into a car with the head of the Duca family was the definition of insanity. But she thought of her mother's dialysis bills, the eviction notice, and the utter ruin her life had become. She reached behind her back, untied the apron, and let it fall to the floor.
The ride to the Duca headquarters was silent, tense, and heavy with unspoken implications. The Manhattan skyline blurred past the tinted windows of the Maybach. When they arrived at a towering skyscraper in Midtown, the doors opened to a private elevator that shot them straight to the penthouse offices.
Alessandro poured two glasses of scotch, sliding one toward her across his massive glass desk.
"You said you were a forensic accounting major," he said, taking a sip. "Why are you serving coffee?"
Cassidy looked at the amber liquid but didn't drink. "My father was an accountant. A good one. But he trusted the wrong client. He signed off on financials he didn't double-check, took the fall for a massive fraud scheme, and died in federal prison. The legal fees wiped us out. I had to drop out to take care of my mother."
A shadow crossed Alessandro's face. "The justice system is a machine designed to crush the poor and protect the connected. I know this better than anyone." He set his glass down. "Vane has a mole inside my organization. Someone handed him our internal audit protocols so he knew exactly what fake documents would pass our review. I need someone who isn't infected by my world to look at my books. All of them."
Cassidy's heart hammered against her ribs. "You want me to audit the Duca empire?"
"I want you to find the rot," Alessandro said softly. "I will pay off your mother's medical debts by tomorrow morning. I will put you in a penthouse suite. But you belong to me until this is solved. Do we have a deal?"
May you like
It was a deal with the devil. But it was a deal she desperately needed.
"Show me the ledgers," she said.
