Reid
Chapter thirty-three
The car ride to Newman Trust was a blur, the tension of the unknown lingering ahead.
And when we arrived in the lobby, the chaos was inescapable.
FBI jackets, Treasury personnel, analysts roaming the floors with documents and files being confiscated left and right.
We made our way to the elevator. When we reached the executive floor, Alexander was already pacing by an empty conference room.
Approaching him with Genevieve on my tail, I opened the door beside him, catching his attention.
“Inside now.”
They followed behind in a haste.
“Reid—Jesus Christ—finally.” The door closed behind him and he locked it quickly.
Turning back towards us, he ran a hand through his hair.
“Another $250 million cleared yesterday. No flags, no issues, it was routed perfectly. And not even twenty-four hours later—” He pointed back toward the chaos outside. “These fuckers show up.”
Genevieve flinched at his abrupt tone. She’d only ever seen the polished, analytical version of him, not the one cracking under federal heat. She looked at me, searching for my reaction. I kept my expression calm, shooting her a brief, reassuring glance before shifting back to Alexander.
“Then the transfer wasn’t clean.”
Alexander snapped, clearly at his wits’ end. “No, Reid, I handled every goddamn step. It was clean. It was—” He stopped pacing, breath heavy, shoulders tense as his eyebrows stayed furrowed. “This doesn’t happen on a clean transfer. Not this fast.”
My brow lifted. “So what are you saying?”
“I’m saying either the Treasury got impossibly lucky…” He hesitated. “…or someone tipped them off.”
My eyes narrowed as I stepped closer to him, my voice dropping. “Do they know what they’re looking for?”
“No.” He shook his head. “They have no target, no directive. It’s just a raid.”
“Then let them,” I said, ignoring Genevieve’s breath hitching behind me. “All they’ll find are Gregory’s failures.”
Alexander exhaled. “Every discrepancy, all the misallocations and bleeding cash, Gregory’s name is still on all of it.”
“Exactly,” I muttered.
“They’ll follow the paper trail straight to him,” Alexander continued, relief seeming to overcome him as he vocalized the specifics for millionth time. “Even if they tear this building apart for months, you’re clean.”
My jaw clenched. Even if we were safe, he was right to worry. This was too sudden and invasive for something as airtight as this was. Only the second transfer and the government already had eyes on it.
“I just don’t understand how. Why now? It doesn’t make sense unless… someone knew exactly when that transfer processed.”
I didn’t have a response. Because of course someone knew… of course it seemed too easy.
“Even if they did know,” Genevieve’s voice cut through the silence, and our heads snapped over to her. “They’d probably know the trail is clean… Why even go through the hassle?”
Alexander pondered for a moment. “A warning.” His eyes shifted back to mine. “Pressure, intimidation, whatever the hell they think it is. Whoever tipped them off wants you cornered.”
“Why?” Genevieve asked, stepping closer, swallowing a nervous gulp.
Alexander hesitated, glancing at the door like he expected agents to burst in at any second.
“Because,” he said carefully, “Reid moved half a billion dollars through the Newman Trust without a single flag thrown… and there’s a good possibility someone doesn’t want him to finish what he started.”
Genevieve blinked, stunned, but before she could utter another word, a hard series of knocks hit the conference room door.
I glanced at Alex in caution as he made his way over.
Slowly he opened the door and the tension in my shoulders eased as Raymond entered the room, his eyes frantically searching.
Once they landed on me, I knew I was just the man he was after.
“What the hell is going on, Reid?”
“We’re handling it, Mr. Newman,” Alexander tried, but Raymond cut him off.
“Do you have any idea what’s happening out there right now? There are federal agents in my lobby. With cameras outside. I have board members calling my personal line—”
“We’re handling it,” I emphasized again.
Raymond scoffed. “And how exactly are you doing that? From where I’m standing it looks like years of my family’s reputation being walked out in evidence boxes—”
“Gregory started tarnishing that reputation long before the Feds showed up.” The words came faster than I could stop them.
Raymond went very still. “Say that again?” he asked, taking a step forward, but Genevieve cut in.
“Reid, stop. Raymond, please.” Her voice came out steadier than she looked. “This isn’t the time.”
Raymond’s eyes cut to her. “No,” he said quietly. “I suppose it isn’t.” His eyes found mine again and I let out a reluctant sigh.
“The trail is clean. They’ll walk the floors, pull what they think they need, and find nothing actionable.
Newman Trust isn’t going under. Your name isn’t going anywhere.
” I didn’t account for where Gregory would be going, because that would only escalate tensions in the room.
“This is just pressure. It’ll make the papers tomorrow and be forgotten by the end of the week if we don’t give them anything worth printing—”
My words faltered as two federal agents stepped into the room in dark suits. Badges already in hand.
The room was silent again.
“Raymond Newman,” the taller one announced, voice carrying through the room.
Raymond straightened immediately, smoothing his jacket, his false composure instinctively snapping into place.
“Agents did a full sweep of the building. We’ve concluded our preliminary assessment.
All Newman Trust property and assets will be seized until further notice. ”
Raymond’s jaw flexed. “Seized? On what grounds? With what warrant? That’s absurd—”
“We’re not here to debate procedure,” the agent cut in. “Higher-ups will communicate with you throughout the process, but as of right now, Newman Trust and Financial Group is undergoing a full federal investigation. We’ll be taking your son into custody.”
Raymond visibly seemed defeated, his hands running through his hair, stress evident in his features. “Gregory isn’t on-site today. He left before the raid. If you require his statements, you’ll need to contact—”
“Not that son.”
All eyes in the room turned to me, and for a second, the room went still.
His eyes darted between the agents and me, confusion, disbelief, humiliation flickering back and forth.
“Reid Kaufman,” the agent said, stepping forward, badge glinting under the light. “You’re coming with us.”