The Secret Inside My Own Company

Chapter 10 - The Secret Inside My Own Company

I sat back and asked the only question that mattered: who inside my company already knew?

I sat back.

“And Gordon paid you off.”

“Yes.”

“Why not expose them?”

Naomi looked tired.

“Oliver was two. I was afraid.”

“You took money.”

“Yes.”

No excuses.

Again, honesty made judgment harder.

“Did Gloria know?”

“Not at first.”

“When did she find out?”

“Seven years ago.”

“What happened?”

“She doubled my monthly support.”

Of course.

Silence had a rate.

“Why?”

“To keep you quiet?”

“To keep Oliver close too.”

I thought about the contradiction.

Gloria paid Naomi both as threat and asset.

“Does Graham know about the foundation fraud?”

“Yes.”

“How?”

“I told him.”

“When?”

“Four years ago.”

Before he pledged my company.

Before the hidden loans.

Before he swore the family crisis had surprised him.

“He knew the trust was being looted.”

“Yes.”

“And still borrowed money to save it.”

Naomi looked at me with pity.

“He wasn’t trying to save it.”

My skin cooled.

“What was he doing?”

“Buying time.”

“For what?”

“To get his mother out.”

“Out of what?”

“Control.”

I stared.

“Graham has been working against Gloria?”

Naomi laughed softly.

“You still want one person to be good.”

That hurt because it was true.

She sat across from me.

“Graham wanted control too. Just a different version.”

“What version?”

“He believed if he could consolidate the debt, expose enough of Gloria’s misuse, and force her retirement, he could take over the family office.”

“With my company as collateral.”

“Yes.”

“So he risked my life’s work to win a family power struggle.”

“Yes.”

“Did he know my signature was forged?”

“I don’t know.”

“Did he forge it?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who did?”

Naomi looked toward the stairs.

Then back at me.

“Ask your CFO.”

I stopped breathing.

“Leah?”

“She met with Gordon twice.”

“When?”

“Last year.”

“How do you know?”

“I saw them.”

“Where?”

“Here.”

I stared.

“My CFO came to your house?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“To ask about the foundation records.”

This did not fit.

Leah had been with me nine years.

She was the person who called about the loans.

She was the person freezing accounts.

The most competent person in the room.

Competence can also be camouflage.

“What did she want?”

“To protect you.”

I laughed.

“Apparently that phrase is hereditary.”

Naomi did not smile.

“She believed Graham was moving against your company.”

“Then why didn’t she tell me?”

“She said you would confront him too early.”

I stood.

There it was again.

Everyone deciding what truth I could handle.

Men.

Women.

Husbands.

CFOs.

Lawyers.

All calling secrecy protection.

“When did you last speak with Leah?”

“Yesterday.”

I stared.

“About what?”

“She asked whether I still had the original foundation records.”

“Do you?”

“Yes.”

“Did you give them to her?”

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because she said something that scared me.”

“What?”

Naomi looked toward the window.

“She said Gloria wasn’t the biggest threat anymore.”

“Who was?”

“She wouldn’t say.”

My phone rang.

Leah.

I answered.

“Where are you?”

Her voice sounded strange.

“In the office.”

“Are you alone?”

“Mostly.”

“Mostly?”

“Security is here.”

My stomach tightened.

“What happened?”

“We found a breach.”

“Financial?”

“Physical.”

“What?”

“Someone entered records storage last night.”

“What did they take?”

“Board minutes. Signature files. Your old estate documents.”

Exactly the materials needed to forge authorizations.

“Leah.”

“Yes?”

“Have you met Naomi Bell?”

Silence.

Not long.

Enough.

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Not on the phone.”

“Who forged my signature?”

“I don’t know.”

“Who did you think was moving against me?”

Another silence.

“Jocelyn, come back to the office.”

“No. Answer.”

“I can’t yet.”

“Why?”

“Because I found out this morning.”

“Found out what?”

She exhaled.

“The loan applications were submitted from inside Rowan & Vale.”

My skin went cold.

Not just Graham.

Not just Gloria.

Someone in my company.

“Whose login?”

Leah said nothing.

“Whose?”

Finally:

“Mine.”

I looked at Naomi.

She had gone pale.

Leah continued.

“I did not submit them.”

“Then who had access?”

“Three people.”

“Names.”

“My deputy. IT administrator.”

“And?”

She was quiet.

“Your executive assistant.”

I closed my eyes.

Mara.

Forty-eight.

With me eleven years.

Knew my schedule.

My passwords once during surgery.

My children’s birthdays.

My mother’s funeral.

Trust is not a door you open once.

It is a house people learn by living in.

Then Leah said:

“Mara didn’t come to work today.”

“Where is she?”

“We don’t know.”

The phrase again.

Before I could answer, Naomi’s front door opened.

A boy walked in carrying a backpack.

Oliver.

He stopped when he saw me.

His face changed.

He knew exactly who I was.

“Mom?”

Naomi stood.

“It’s okay.”

He looked at me.

Then said:

“Did Graham finally tell you?”

My heart tightened.

“Tell me what?”

Oliver glanced at his mother.

She closed her eyes.

Too late.

“What?”

He answered.

“That he’s leaving your family to run away with Mara.”

The room went silent.

My husband’s secret war for control had just become something far more ordinary.

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An affair.

And somehow, after fraud, forged signatures, hidden trusts, and stolen charity money, ordinary betrayal was the thing that finally made my hands shake.