Chapter 4 EMPLOYMENT OFFER
Gary's POV
Twenty minutes later, we were in a private room. I sat in achair that was much better than the one outside and studied her.
She was in her mid-twenties, by the looks of it. Wearing jeans and a blouse that had seen better days. No jewelry except a cheap watch that was probably waterlogged now. What had pushed her?
"Talk," I said.
"Excuse me?"
"Tell me why you tried to kill yourself."
Her laughter sounded hollow. "What are you, my therapist?"
"No, but I just spent five thousand dollars on a hospital room so we could have a conversation without interruption. So talk."
She stared at me for a long moment before speaking.
"Fine," she said.
She told me everything.
When she mentioned Marcus Brown, I sat up straighter.
"Marcus Brown? Of Sunrise investments?"
"You know him?"
“Know him?” I nodded. “I've negotiated with him once before. The man is a shark. Smart, ruthless, and vindictive as hell.”
"Then you know he's not going to let this go. He thinks I stole from him. My boyfriend, no, ex-boyfriend, set me up perfectly. All the transfers came from my login, using my access codes." She laughed again, that hollow sound. "The police don't believe me. My lawyer says I can't win. My own mother thinks I'm guilty."
"Your mother?"
"She called me a thief and hung up. My brother blocked my number."
"And Marcus threatened to send organ harvesters after me if I was unable to pay."
She looked at me, and I saw that same despair I'd felt this morning when Reeves said "terminal." That complete absence of hope when you face an overwhelming situation and you're alone..
"So yeah," she said. "I walked into the ocean. Because drowning seemed better."
The room went quiet.
I thought about my hundred days. My empire. My penthouse and my car and my unlimited black card.
"I'll be back," I said and left.
As soon as I sat got to my office, I googled "Mira Hale."
Three articles popped up. The first showed her being arrested, looking devastated. The second was from two years ago, referring to her as a "rising star in finance," with multiple awards and glowing recommendations.
The third was older. University newsletter. "Alumni Spotlight: Mira Hale, Making Waves in Corporate Finance."
I leaned back, studying the photos.
This kind of woman didn't suddenly steal millions.
And if she'd stolen it, she would have flown to Singapore or the Cayman Islands before it was even detected. She wouldn't be walking into the Pacific Ocean at sunset.
I was about to close the page when I saw her birthdate. She clocked twenty eight on the 7th of this month. If Claire had been alive, she would be twenty-eight next month too. I thought wistfully.
I immediately called my lawyer.
Richard answered on the second ring, voice thick with sleep. "Someone better be dead, Gary."
"This is to prevent that. I need information on embezzlement cases."
"Gary, it's late." He gritted his teeth.
"Wrongful accusations and asset seizure."
He was silent at first. "Did you embezzle something?"
"I'm the one with money, Richard. Why would I steal?"
"Did one of your staff steal from you?"
"No."
"Why are you asking?"
"Research."
"For?"
"A project."
He sighed like a man who'd had this conversation too many times. "Fine. If someone's wrongly accused, they're screwed unless they can produce the actual thief. Asset seizure can happen immediately if criminal charges are filed."
"One more question. How hard is it to transfer large sums of money quickly?"
"Define large."
"Twenty-three million."
Richard whistled. "That's enormous. For that amount, you'd need bank approval, verification, probably multiple signatures depending on the account. It's doable, but it takes time. Days at minimum."
"What if I authorized it? As CEO?"
Long pause. "Gary, what the hell are you planning?"
"Nothing illegal."
"That's not reassuring."
"Can it be done?"
"Technically, yes. But Gary—"
"Thanks, Richard. Go back to sleep."
I hung up.
My phone vibrated with a text from Richard: "Whatever you're planning, exercise caution. If you get yourself into trouble, make sure you contact another attorney. I won't defend you."
I laughed. The bastard would be the first to arrive if I did get into trouble.
I texted back: "Need a contract drafted. Tonight. Sending details now."
"It's MIDNIGHT, Gary. I need my sleep."
"I'll triple your hourly rate."
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Then: "Fine. What kind of contract?"
"An employment contract. I'm going to transfer twenty-three million to someone for a three-month job."
"What! What kind of job will they do for you?"
"Just do as I say, no questions."
"That's why I hate tycoons. You think everyone is your minion." He whined but prepared it.
By 5 AM, the contract was ready and I was back at the hospital.
The matron recognized me. Probably still worried I'd buy the place out of spite.
"Mr. Bethov. Good morning."
I waved in response as I entered the elevator, wondering what Mira's reaction would be when she heard my proposal.
I got to her room and knocked.
No reply.
I knocked harder. "Mira?"
There was silence.
Then I heard a scraping sound. Was she being attacked?
I tried the handle, it was locked from inside. My heart started racing.
"MIRA!"
I slammed my shoulder into the door. It didn't budge.
"Sir!" A doctor appeared. "You can't—"
"Open this door or I'm kicking it down."
"I need to get security."
"NOW!"
He ran.
The scraping continued.
When security finally arrived with a key, I shoved past them into the room but the bed was empty.
