Chapter 5 - THE UNCASHED CHECK
Cameron stared at the pink paper, his chest heaving. The ruthless CEO was completely gone; in his place was a man breaking apart at the seams.
“She thinks I abandoned her,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “Elaine convinced a six-year-old that I threw her away.”
“Hey. Look at me.” Audrey stepped in front of him, grabbing his shoulders. It was the first time she had ever touched him so boldly. His muscles were rigid beneath his shirt. “We are going to get her back. But we need to think. Elaine mentioned taking over the company. Why would she say that?”
Cameron shook his head, struggling to focus. “My brother left his shares in a trust for Mia. I control them until she’s eighteen. If Elaine gets full custody…”
“She controls the shares,” Audrey finished, her mind clicking into corporate mode. “She doesn’t just want her daughter. She wants your boardroom.”
Audrey didn’t wait for permission. She marched into Cameron’s home office, a room she had organized countless times, and booted up his desktop. Her fingers flew across the keyboard, accessing the private executive server.
“What are you looking for?” Cameron asked, standing behind her, his presence warm and overwhelming.
“A money trail. If Elaine is staging a hostile takeover using Mia’s trust, she needs backing. The board wouldn’t support a recovering addict unless she had an inside partner.” Audrey accessed the secure ledger. She filtered the recent large transactions.
Her breath caught.
“Audrey? What is it?”
She wasn’t looking at Elaine’s transactions. She was looking at a scanned image of a physical check drawn from Cameron’s private, personal account. It was dated exactly three years ago—the month his brother died.
It was made out to Audrey Bennett. For five hundred thousand dollars.
But it had never been cashed. It had never even been given to her.
Audrey turned slowly in the leather chair, staring at the man she had worked for, dedicated her life to, for the past five years. “Cameron… what is this? Why did you write a check to me for half a million dollars?”
Cameron looked at the screen, and the color drained from his face.
Before he could answer, the heavy oak doors of the office swung open. A courier stood there, looking nervous, holding a flat cardboard mailer. “Delivery for Mr. Hayes. Requires a signature.”
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Audrey snatched the package from the man, signed for it, and tore it open. Inside was a child’s drawing. It was crayon on white paper—a tall man, a little girl, and a woman with glasses.
Audrey flipped the paper over. On the back, in elegant, sharp cursive, was an address: The Plaza Hotel, Suite 402.
