Chapter 2 - The Audit
Dante’s relaxed posture vanished instantly, replaced by the lethal, coiled energy of a predator preparing to strike.
Federal agents did not conduct routine corporate audits accompanied by tactical strike teams.
This was a coordinated, high-level raid designed to completely dismantle the Marino Syndicate.
Dante moved rapidly toward the hidden wall safe behind a large abstract painting.
“Emily, shred everything on your desk immediately,” he ordered, spinning the combination dial with blurred speed.
“Then go down the emergency fire stairs to the underground parking garage. My driver will take you home.”
Emily did not move toward the door.
Instead, she calmly opened her laptop and began typing with furious precision.
“I’m not shredding anything, Mr. Marino.”
Dante turned sharply, pulling a thick stack of encrypted hard drives from the open safe.
“Are you out of your mind?” he growled, the cold void rushing back into his voice. “If they find those ledgers, we all go to federal prison for the rest of our lives.”
“They won't find them,” Emily stated, her eyes locked onto her glowing screen.
“I transferred the dummy accounts into a legitimate philanthropic trust three minutes ago.”
Dante stopped, staring at her in genuine shock.
“You did what?”
“You signed the depreciation forms,” Emily explained patiently, typing another complex command.
“I used your digital signature to authorize a massive, completely legal donation to the Evanston Residential Care Facility. The three million Sal stole is gone, but the rest of your operational capital is currently sitting in a highly publicized, tax-exempt charity fund.”
Heavy, synchronized footsteps echoed loudly in the hallway outside the oak doors.
The FBI was closing in fast.
Dante approached her desk, his dark eyes wide with disbelief.
“You donated thirty million dollars of syndicate money to a charity?”
“It's a very good charity,” Emily defended defensively. “They take excellent care of schizophrenia patients.”
“The feds can still seize the physical hard drives in my safe,” Dante warned, reaching for his weapon.
“No, they can't,” Emily said, hitting the enter key with a satisfying click.
The fire alarm suddenly began blaring throughout the forty-second floor, accompanied by flashing strobe lights.
“I just triggered the building’s localized Halon fire suppression system in the server room,” Emily explained over the deafening noise.
“The gas will completely melt the internal magnetic disks on every hard drive in this building in thirty seconds.”
The heavy oak doors burst open violently.
A dozen heavily armed FBI agents flooded into the executive office, their assault rifles raised and laser sights painting Dante’s chest.
“FBI! Nobody move!” the lead agent screamed, storming toward the desk.
Dante slowly raised his hands, looking at the furious agent, and then looking down at his exhausted, brilliant secretary.
The agent snatched the laptop from Emily’s desk and slammed it onto the glass table.
He looked at the screen, and his triumphant sneer instantly dropped into a mask of pure confusion.
He turned to Dante, holding up the laptop.
“What the hell is this?” the agent demanded.
May you like
Dante looked at the screen and realized Emily hadn't just hidden the money.
She had left a massive, digital paper trail linking the missing three million dollars directly to the personal bank account of the lead FBI agent standing in front of them.
