Knot My Syndicate

Chapter 1

NYX brOOKS

Numbers never lied. People did.

This truth built my career, kept me alive, and taught me how to focus when the world tried to distract me with noise.

I hadn’t chose to work in compliance because I liked rules and regulations.

No. I worked with numbers because it was easy for me.

And as a financial auditor, I easily understood the difference between what was legal and what needed to be scrutinized.

The two rarely overlapped.

At Hawthorne crawling around the city, trying to find clues that would lead me to my sister’s whereabouts. In my quest to find the truth, the same system that chewed through omegas like me.

I needed answers. I needed to know how many more vulnerable omegas they had taken. How many more girls like her had vanished into silence? How many polished firms and clandestine conglomerates were hiding monsters in expensive suits?

So I was working for Hawthorne & Vale Compliance, at Meridian’s headquarters. Because Pack Meridian thought we omegas were prey. And someone needed to make them regret believing that.

Serendipity. I flagged the company on my screen for review, and it also appeared on my perpetrator list. Midwest Health Alliance.

MHA was Meridian’s healthcare subsidiary, running high-volume clinics in underserved areas across Illinois, Indiana, and Michigan. Ostensibly ethical. Coded language on every report.

“Serving vulnerable communities.”

“Protected designations.”

“Reproductive equity.”

All lies. But the kind that paid well.

Besides medical, MHA engaged in social services. Housing subsidies for homeless omegas. Travel exemptions for omegas who wanted to leave the area for a period. Educational opportunities and special apprenticeships that allowed unbonded omegas to work part time from home.

Everything looked clean at first. Too clean. Dates had lined up across state systems. Patterns found that couldn’t be ignored.

My gut tightened.

Courtesy of a little covert backdoor that I purchased from my very talented hacker, I dug deeper. Spent hours copying files, reading reports, taking names and making calls as a potential patient. No computer was safe. Nurses, doctors, administrators, and on up the corporate hierarchy.

The pattern revealed itself, and I realized the truth.

MHA had not been responding to heats. They had been scheduling them.

Not managing an omega crisis. They had been creating them.

Directing them. Exploiting them. Omegas never stayed long in the homes they received, and they never maintained their at-home employment.The turnaround was alarming.

I then followed the money. Through three shell organizations and two compliance firewalls, the data had bottlenecked into a single holding entity under Meridian’s vast business web. No name. No office. Just a corporate ghost with just enough paperwork to exist and not a bit more.

I sat back, heartbeat steady, even though my hands wanted to shake. My screen glowed a soft blue. I had encrypted my findings, saved a local copy to my external hard drive, and severed the connection to the MHA’s internal server. My screen went black. Then white.

THIS TERMINAL IS LOCKED. PLEASE REMAIN AT YOUR STATION FOR ESCORT.

My scalp prickled. That was not a warning. That was a threat. I couldn’t be here when security showed up. I’d obviously triggered something, somewhere.

I guessed my time at Hawthorne & Vale Compliance was over.

Trying not to panic, I snatched my satchel from under my desk and stuffed the hard drive into it, then stood and peered over my cubicle. No one seemed alarmed and nothing seemed amiss. But I knew that was about to change in a minute or two.

I put on my coat and hid the flash drive I used to hack MHA in my inner pocket. I had to go. I had to disappear. I had the evidence now, and I could not let them capture me before I got it off the premises.

Thankfully, I never decorated my space with anything identifiable, so I was good to depart.

I took a breath, pasted on a serene expression, and walked toward the seventeenth-floor elevators.

I always wore flats instead of heels so I could stay quiet and quick on my feet, which mattered in Chicago.

In winter, the sidewalks turned slick under salt-burned ice, and snow forced us to slow down.

I learned early on how to survive the cold, and Chicago did not make it easy.

I scanned my keycard and pressed the call button. Eight elevators, but I still had to wait.

Slowing my breathing, I studied my reflection in the bright mirrored walls of the small lobby. My brown skin looked warm like sun-baked earth. The color caught my eye, grounding me in the sterile shades of this corporate tomb. It’s fine. I’ll be out of the building soon. Relax.

The boring, neutral-hued clothes I wore were intentional, designed to draw zero attention, to keep me safe in a world that had never made space for omegas like me unless it was to use us.

These clothes were armor, not fashion. I blended into the background.

I doubt security would even notice me if they walked past.

I exhaled. I made myself breathe. Calm. Controlled.

My phone buzzed.

MeridianSecure: DO NOT MOVE.

My spine stiffened. The chill that rolled over me wasn’t fear. It was confirmation.

This was the worst-case scenario.

MeridianSecure. A secure channel reserved for high-clearance executive messages. One I should not be receiving as I was not important enough to be added to that network.

My heart stuttered. Someone had eyes on me. They saw me leave my desk. Were they watching the whole time? I reached into my coat and pressed the hacker’s flash drive deeper into the seam. I wasn’t ready to die in this office. I had to get the fuck out now.