The numbers didn't add up.
Lila Carver's fingers froze over her laptop, her pulse thudding like a drum in her ears. The spreadsheet glowed on the screen, a maze of financial data that should've been as clean as the glass walls surrounding her on the 43rd floor of Vantage Enterprises Tower. But there, nestled in the fourth-quarter projections, was a glitch: a $12 million transaction funneled through a shell company called "Aurora Holdings." It wasn't a typo. It wasn't an error. It was deliberate—a shadow in the numbers that screamed trouble.
Lila pushed her glasses up her nose, her breath shallow. She'd seen this kind of thing in textbooks, in late-night study sessions with her dad, who'd spent his life hunched over ledgers in their cramped Queens apartment. "Numbers don't lie, Lila," he'd say, his voice rough but warm. "People do." Now, staring at the screen at 11:47 p.m., she felt his words like a weight. This wasn't just a mistake. This was fraud, maybe even money laundering, buried in the accounts of a $200 billion tech empire.
And she, a 26-year-old contract analyst from DataSync Solutions, had just stumbled into it.
The Vantage Tower was a ghost town this late, its open-plan analytics floor bathed in the cold glow of monitors and the hum of air conditioning. Her colleagues had bailed hours ago, leaving behind coffee cups and sticky notes. Lila should've been home in her Brooklyn apartment, curled up with her cat, Nimbus, and a glass of cheap merlot. But the audit deadline loomed, and her boss had been clear: triple-check everything. Vantage Enterprises wasn't just any client—it was the client, the kind that could make or break a career.
"Triple-check," Lila muttered, rubbing her temples. "Not uncover a corporate conspiracy."
She hovered her cursor over the "Save" button, her stomach twisting. Flagging this could tank her job. Vantage was untouchable, led by Elias Vantage, a 34-year-old billionaire whose name was synonymous with power. She'd never met him, only seen his face in Forbes—sharp jawline, gray eyes like a storm, a half-smirk that screamed control. The office buzz painted him as brilliant but ruthless, a man who didn't tolerate mistakes. If this discrepancy traced back to him, she was walking into a minefield.
Her finger twitched toward "Delete." Pretend she hadn't seen it. File the report, cash her paycheck, move on. But her dad's voice echoed again, stubborn as ever. She sighed, pulling up the Aurora Holdings line to cross-reference it. The numbers led to an offshore account, untraceable without deeper access. Her heart sank deeper with every click.
Then the elevator dinged.
Lila's head snapped up, her breath catching. No one came to the analytics floor at this hour—not janitors, not interns. The glass door swung open, and a man stepped through, his presence like a storm rolling in.
Elias Vantage.
He was taller than she'd pictured, his black suit tailored to perfection, cutting sharp lines against the dim lights. His dark hair was swept back, and those gray eyes—colder, sharper than any photo—locked onto her like a predator sizing up prey. He held a tablet, its screen casting a faint glow across his angular face.
"Miss Carver, I presume?" His voice was low, smooth, with a faint British accent that made her name sound like a judgment.
Lila's mouth went dry. "Y-yes. Mr. Vantage?"
He didn't reply, just strode toward her desk, his polished shoes silent on the carpet. Up close, he was overwhelming—six-foot-two, maybe more, with an aura that shrank the room. He stopped a foot away, his gaze flicking to her laptop.
"You're working late," he said, not a question. His voice carried a weight that made her feel exposed, like he could see every thought racing through her head.
"I had to finish the audit." Her voice came out smaller than she wanted, and she hated it. She straightened, forcing herself to meet his eyes. "It's due tomorrow."
He tilted his head, studying her like a puzzle he hadn't decided to solve or toss aside. "And what did you find?"
Her pulse spiked. Did he know about the discrepancy? Was he testing her? The $12 million figure burned in her mind, a neon warning. She could lie, say the numbers were clean, and pray he didn't check. But those eyes—they cut through her, through the glass walls, through the lies she hadn't even told yet.
"Just… some inconsistencies," she said, choosing her words like stepping over broken glass. "I'm still verifying."
His lips twitched, not quite a smile. "Inconsistencies." He lingered on the word, like it amused him. "Show me."
Lila's stomach dropped. No way out now. Her hands trembled as she turned the laptop toward him, pulling up the spreadsheet. She pointed to the Aurora Holdings line, her voice halting as she explained the mismatched revenue and the offshore account. Every word felt like a step closer to disaster.
Elias leaned over her desk, one hand braced on the edge, his sleeve brushing her arm. The scent of his cologne—sandalwood and something sharp, like a coming storm—hit her, dizzying. He scanned the screen, his expression unreadable, but his jaw tightened, a flicker of something dark crossing his face.
"You found this tonight?" His voice was quieter now, edged with danger.
"Yes." She swallowed hard. "I was going to flag it for my supervisor—"
"No." The word sliced through her, sharp and final. He straightened, his eyes pinning her in place. "You'll flag nothing. Not to your supervisor, not to anyone."
Lila blinked, her heart racing. "But this could be serious. If it's fraud—"
"It's not your concern." His tone was like steel, cold and unyielding. He tapped his tablet, pulling up a document with her name in bold: Lila Carver - Nondisclosure Agreement. "You'll sign this. Tonight. And you'll work for me, directly, to resolve this quietly."
Her mind spun. "Work for you? I'm with DataSync, I can't just—"
"You can, and you will." He cut her off, his gaze unrelenting. "$50,000 upfront, your salary doubled. You report to me, not DataSync. Refuse, and I'll ensure you never work in this city again."
Lila's breath caught. The offer was a lifeline—money that could clear her mom's medical bills, secure her future. But the threat was a noose, and his eyes said he meant every word. Why her? Why not a senior analyst? What was he hiding?
"I need time to think," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
"You have until midnight." He glanced at his watch, a sleek Patek Philippe that probably cost more than her rent for a year. "The contract will hit your email. Sign it, or don't. But know this, Miss Carver: you've seen too much."
He turned to leave, pausing at the door. "And Lila?" Her name on his lips sent a shiver down her spine, part fear, part something she couldn't name. "Don't try to run. I'll find you."
The door clicked shut, leaving her alone with the hum of the air conditioning and the weight of his words. Her phone buzzed—an email from an unlisted address, subject: NDA - Vantage Enterprises. She opened it, her hands shaking. The contract was ironclad, binding her to silence for life. Buried in the fine print was a clause: she'd relocate to Elias's private estate in the Hamptons for the project's duration.
Live with him. Work with him. Dig into his secrets.
Lila's finger hovered over the "Accept" button. Ten minutes to decide. Her dad's voice whispered again, urging her to do what was right. But what was right when the truth could ruin her?
As she stared at the spreadsheet, a new notification flashed on her screen—a hidden file, encrypted, labeled "Aurora: Phase Two." It hadn't been there before.
Someone was watching her.