Chapter 26 Ledger
LEDGER
The numbers don’t lie.
I stare at the spreadsheet on my laptop, comparing shipment manifests against distribution reports. Twenty kilos of product missing over the past six weeks. Small enough amounts each time that it wouldn’t trigger immediate suspicion.
Too bad for whoever’s stealing from me, I’m smarter.
“Silas.” I don’t look up from the screen. “Get in here.”
He appears in my office doorway within seconds. “Boss?”
“We have a rat.” I turn the laptop toward him. “Someone’s skimming product and selling it independently. They started small and got greedy.”
Silas studies the numbers, his jaw tightening. “You know who?”
“Tommy Greco. Warehouse supervisor. Has access to inventory counts and distribution schedules. Been with us for three years, so he thought he’d earned enough trust to get away with it.”
“Want me to bring him in?”
“No.” I close the laptop. “I’ll handle this one personally. Set it up for tonight at the warehouse on Flamingo and make it look like a standard inventory audit.”
“You sure you want to do this yourself? I can—”
“I’m sure.” I stand and grab my jacket. “And tell Pedro to have the car ready. Savannah’s coming with me.”
Silas blinks. “Boss, this isn’t exactly—”
“I know what it is.”
He hesitates, then nods. “Understood. I’ll have everything ready by eight.”
After he leaves, I sit back down and pull out my phone. Text Savannah: Business meeting tonight. Wear something professional. Picking you up at 7:30.
Her response comes immediately: What kind of meeting?
Inventory audit. Nothing exciting. But I need you there.
Okay. See you then.
I pocket my phone and return to the spreadsheet. Tommy Greco has stolen from me, from my organization, and from the empire I’ve built over decades. That kind of disrespect can’t go unanswered.
Not because I’m cruel, but because I’m practical. Let one person steal without consequences, and suddenly everyone thinks they can take what’s mine. The structure collapses.
Savannah is waiting downstairs when I arrive at 7:30 PM. She’s wearing black pants and a silk blouse that shows her bump clearly. Her hair is pulled back, and she looks every inch the businesswoman.
She slides into the back seat beside me. “So what’s this inventory audit about?”
“Routine check on one of our distribution centers.” I take her hand. “We’ve had some discrepancies in the numbers. I want to see the operation firsthand.”
“And you need me there because…?”
“Because if you’re going to be my partner, you need to understand all of it.”
The warehouse is on the east side of the city, tucked between industrial buildings that look abandoned but aren’t. Pedro pulls up to the loading dock, and Silas is already waiting with two other men.
I help Savannah out of the car. “Stay close to me.”
“Okay.”
Inside, the warehouse looks legitimate. Rows of shelving stacked with boxes labeled for various hotel supplies. Linens, toiletries, furniture. All real merchandise that gets distributed to my properties throughout the southwest.
But in the back corner, behind a false wall, is where the other inventory gets stored. The product that funds everything else.
Tommy Greco stands near the loading area, clipboard in hand, looking nervous.
“Mr. Volkov.” He forces a smile. “Wasn’t expecting you tonight.”
“That’s the point of surprise audits, Tommy.” I move past him toward the office. “This is my wife. She’ll be observing our operations going forward.”
“Ma’am.” He nods at Savannah, his eyes dropping to her stomach before snapping back up.
I lead Savannah to the small office that overlooks the warehouse floor. “Wait here. This won’t take long.”
“What are you going to do?”
“Handle a personnel issue.” I squeeze her shoulder. “Just stay in this office. Don’t come out unless I tell you to.”
Her eyes search mine. “Ledger—”
“Trust me. Please.”
After a moment, she nods. “Okay.”
I close the office door behind me and walk back to where Silas has Tommy cornered near the loading dock. The other men have formed a loose circle, blocking any escape routes.
Tommy sees me coming, and his face goes white. “Mr. Volkov, listen, I can explain—”
“Yes, I’ll need you to explain.” I stop a few feet away. “Explain how twenty kilos of my product went missing. Explain how you’ve been selling it independently and pocketing the profit?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t insult me with lies, Tommy.” My voice stays calm.
He backs up against the wall. “I needed the money. My kid’s medical bills—”
“So you stole from me.” I step closer. “You took what was mine and sold it like it belonged to you.”
“I was going to pay it back.”
“With what? The profit you made selling my product?” I shake my head. “That’s not how this works. You know that.”
Silas moves to stand beside me. “Storage room’s ready, boss.”
“Good.” I look at Tommy. “We’re going to have a conversation about loyalty and about what happens when you steal from the Volkov family.”
“Please.” Tommy’s voice cracks. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re right about that.”
Silas and the other men grab Tommy and drag him toward the storage room at the back of the warehouse. He’s begging now, promising to return everything, swearing his loyalty, but it’s too late for that.
I follow them into the storage room. It’s small, with concrete walls and one metal chair in the center. They shove Tommy into the chair and zip-tie his wrists behind his back.
“Wait outside,” I tell them. “Make sure no one comes in.”
The door closes, leaving just me and Tommy in the room. He’s crying. “Please, Mr. Volkov. Please don’t do this.”
“You did this.” I roll up my sleeves. “When you decided my trust meant nothing. When you thought you could steal from me without consequences.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I believe you.” I move closer. “But sorry doesn’t fix what you’ve done. It doesn’t restore the respect you lost, and it sure as hell doesn’t send the message that needs to be sent to everyone else in my organization.”
I hit him until his nose breaks with a wet crack, and blood pours down his face.
He screams.
I hit him again.
Twenty minutes later, I open the storage room door. Tommy is unconscious in the chair, his face a mess of blood and broken features. He’ll live, but he’ll never work in this city again, and everyone in my organization will know what happens when you steal from me.
Silas takes one look and nods. “Hospital?”
“Eventually. Let him sit for a while first.” I look at my hands, and they’re bloody all over. “Clean this up. I need to check on my wife.”
I walk to the bathroom first, wash the worst of the blood off, but my knuckles are still obviously damaged. The skin is torn, already starting to swell.
Savannah is standing at the office window when I return, looking down at the warehouse floor. She turns when I enter, and her eyes immediately drop to my hands.
She doesn’t gasp. “Is it done?” she asks quietly.
“It’s done.”
“The personnel issue.”
“Yes.”
She walks over to me. Takes my hands in hers, examining the damage. Her fingers are gentle as they trace the split skin. “Does it hurt?”
“Not really.”
She meets my eyes. “Are you okay?”
The question catches me off guard. Not what did you do? Not who did you hurt?
“I’m fine.” My voice comes out rougher than I intended. “I’m sorry you had to—”
“Don’t.” She shakes her head. “Don’t apologize. You told me this is part of it. Part of your world. Our world now.”
“Savannah—”
“Did he deserve it?”
“He stole from me. From us. Twenty kilos over six weeks.”
“So yes.”
“Yes.”
She nods slowly, then leans up and kisses me. “Then I’m glad you handled it,” she says when she pulls away. “We should go and get your hands looked at by a doctor.”
“They’re fine.”
“They’re not.” She picks up her purse. “We’re going to the doctor. No arguments.”
I almost smile. “Yes, ma’am.”
In the car on the way to the clinic, she doesn’t let go of my hand. She holds it carefully in her lap, occasionally running her thumb over my uninjured knuckles.
“Does this happen a lot?” she asks. “Having to handle things personally?”
“Not as much as it used to. Silas usually takes care of problems before they get to me.”
“But sometimes you need to send a message.”
“Yes.”
“And tonight was one of those times.”
“Yes.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “Will he live?”
“Probably. Depends on how fast they get him to a hospital.”
“But you don’t care either way.”
“No,” I admit. “I don’t.”
She nods and goes back to holding my hand.