Chapter 13
CHAPTER 13
ANA
I am still shaking. My legs are like jelly but they somehow dragged me to the restroom, which was thankfully empty where I cleaned myself up and attempted to regain control of my senses.
I can’t believe what just happened. A shiver of damnation surges through my veins as I cast my mind back on what happened in the boardroom.
James took me completely by surprise and showed a side to him I wasn’t expecting. I have never been so desired. So corrupted and so used. My fingers fly to my throat as a reminder of what it felt like to be so consumed. If anyone could see me now, they would know what happened. My eyes are bright and my hair wild and it’s obvious what just went on because I’m still wearing his mark on my skin and am burning inside.
I take a deep breath and attempt to regain my icy control because I’m still required to head into my office and work at unraveling this mystery.
The trouble is, I can’t move past those dark, disturbing eyes and his words chanting at me on repeat. He called me a slut, and he was right. I am. I’m his slut because that is the way he makes me feel, and I wonder why I love that so much.
After several deep breaths and copious amounts of water splashed onto my flushed skin, I head out of the restroom and toward my office, wondering what my story will be if anyone asks where I’ve been.
As I head inside, I note David’s now empty desk and wonder what that means for us. We are a team without a leader and yet will probably work better for it and I can already sense the lighter atmosphere as I take my seat at my desk.
Eric glances up and scoots his chair closer to mine and whispers, “I never saw that coming. David was pissed when he left, but he deserved it. He’s been freeloading off the rest of us for months now and he won’t be missed.”
I smile and register the curious smiles of my fellow workers and it’s up to Eric to ask the question they are all obviously dying to know the answer to.
“So, what did he want?”
“Mr. Warner?” I shrug as if it was nothing. “He wanted my observations on the corporate donations. There appear to be a few anomalies that he wanted to go over. ”
“A few.” Eric raises his eyes.
“Those spreadsheets are riddled with anomalies. I’m just surprised it’s taken him so long to wake up to that.”
“What do you mean?”
My pulse races as I sense some answers heading my way, and he lowers his voice.
“When you work in the charity business, you don’t bite the hand that feeds you. Not every donation that lodges in our banks is there and, shall we say, above board?”
I lean closer and he glances around before tapping his nose.
“It’s all there if you read between the lines. I mean, take the Gold group as an example.”
I tap my screen and note it’s the fifth one on my list and he points to the figure on the screen.
“Look there. They have donated close to one million dollars in the last seven years. If you delve into their company accounts, you will notice they made a loss for the past three years, but the donations always remained the same.”
“A tax dodge?”
I arch my brow and he shrugs, “Possibly, but when you dive a little deeper into the gossip columns, you will discover that Anthony Gold is a very bad boy indeed.”
Eric lowers his voice still further. “He was removed from the board three years ago and succeeded by his son Edward Gold. They are still operating at a loss but enjoy the life of a millionaire all the same. Search their names and you may be interested in the company they keep, however, that’s not the icing on that particular cake.”
“What is?”
I am beginning to believe that Eric is the other part of my soul and that we were separated at birth because our minds work along the same lines and he leans across and taps into my computer and an image gallery pops up. I stare at two men, father and son, who appear to be cut from the same cloth. Both affluent, sightly overweight and accompanied by two glamorous women and another couple that causes me to grin.
Eric says triumphantly, “Read the piece below. It’s very enlightening.”
Anthony and Edward Gold, along with their glamorous wives, enjoyed an evening at The Ivy with Governor Kenricky and his beautiful wife Adele. The families have been friends for many years and Governor Kenricky is Edward’s godfather and they spend many vacations together at the Gold villa in Mustique.
“So, what does that prove?” I shrug and Eric taps on the keyboard again and I peer closer at the photograph that appears to have been taken at a function somewhere and Eric whispers, “There’s Anthony Gold and the man beside him is the current president of none other than the Soviet Union.”
I swear my heart almost gives out on me as I notice a familiar face deep in conversation with them. Eric laughs softly. “The other man is Boris Fedorov, the head of the KGB and when you dive a little deeper, you will find that Anthony Gold has more than one business, which is probably why he can afford the donations.”
“What business?”
My pulse is racing as he grins. “Weapons. It appears that our American friend is also high up in Vulcan Industries. He is a fully paid-up member of the board and their main source of capital is arms. It’s interesting that a failing business can afford such a huge donation every year and show no profits to the tax man, where the other business is thriving and would benefit from losing money to avoid a huge tax bill.”
“So, you believe the donations are laundered money and The Gold Group are pushing Russian money through an American charity.”
It’s as if a lightbulb illuminates in my head as piece by piece the puzzle falls into place and Eric shrugs.
“Clever but foolish because any decent auditor would pick this up.”
“Then why haven’t they?”
“Because money talks, Ana and I’m guessing this is just the tip of the iceberg. If The Rose Foundation is laundering money for the Russians, you can bet your next pay check that they made certain the men in charge are on side.”
His phone rings and he throws me a smug look as he scoots his chair back to his desk, leaving my mind racing with possibilities.
I could hug Eric. In fact, I want to employ him because he has summed up in one conversation what we have been agonizing over for months. It makes perfect sense. The Rose Foundation is the vehicle the members of Burning Roses used to ensure their wealth stays with their members. It’s a club of secrets and shady deals, and my father was one of the founders. It certainly explains his rags to riches story and something is telling me this is just the tip of the iceberg and I glance at the picture taken in the Kremlin and wonder how many other people are involved.
My first thought is to run to James with this, but how can I? This is bigger than I ever imagined possible and there is only one man who has the power to deal with this shit and he is the man I must speak to first.