Chapter 4 Graham
Joan stared at the screen. The thread mimicked her name, number, and clipped texting style well enough to look authentic, but she had never written a word of it. Someone had manufactured an affair with Graham Voss—Reiner’s most bitter business rival.
"I didn't write these, Reiner," Joan said, her voice shaking. "I haven't talked to Graham in months. You know him from my college days, but he is your rival now. Why would I ever send him this?"
"They display your private number, Joan," Reiner said, his expression hard. "How else could Annabelle have found them?"
"Let me call Graham right now on speaker," Joan offered, reaching for her phone. "We can ask him together. He will tell you this is fake."
"No," Reiner snapped, waving his hand to stop her. "Graham hates me. Of course he would lie to protect you and ruin my reputation. Calling him won't prove anything."
Annabelle emerged from the hallway holding a stack of papers, her face arranged in sympathy.
"Reiner, please don't be too hard on her. The launch tablet was still synced to Joan’s calendar and messaging account.
A notification appeared while I was fixing the schedule, and the thread opened when I touched it. I didn't want to believe it either."
Joan rounded on her sister. "You opened my private account? Annabelle, you were given access to marketing files, not my messages."
Annabelle lowered her gaze and bit her lip. "I was only trying to sync the calendars like Reiner asked—"
"Stop deflecting, Joan." Reiner stepped between them, ignoring the question of how Annabelle had accessed the account. "She should not have opened it, but that does not change what the messages say."
Joan felt trapped in her own home.
An hour later, back in her locked office, Joan’s computer screen lit up. An email popped up from a private address she didn't recognize. It was from Graham Voss.
Joan, the email read. I am using an outside email because I don't trust Loft International's servers.
I noticed something serious. A large payment from your company was routed first through Bellamy Wellness Holdings, a dormant company registered by your sisters, and then through a newly created intermediary called Voss Hospitality Consulting.
That second name is designed to resemble one of my subsidiaries, but neither I nor my companies own it.
The payment was approved with your executive hardware key. We need to talk in person.
Joan’s stomach dropped. Someone was using her name to steal company money and frame her. She couldn't use her work phone or company email to investigate because she knew her sisters were watching her network.
She sent a brief message to Lena Park, Loft International’s chief lawyer and her best friend. Lena was trapped in London responding to a fabricated regulatory complaint—another crisis Annabelle had engineered to remove her from New York.
Lena, Joan wrote. I need your help. Someone is using my account to move money. Please hurry back.
With Lena out of reach, Joan agreed to meet Graham at a discreet café down the street. She needed to see the payment records for herself.
When Joan arrived at the small café, Graham was already waiting in a quiet booth at the back. He handed her a folder full of printed financial papers.
"Look at the routing numbers, Joan," Graham said. "The first recipient is your sisters’ dormant wellness company. The second is a shell called Voss Hospitality Consulting, created to make the transfer look connected to me. The approval used your physical executive key, not merely your password."
Joan looked over the numbers, her head spinning. "Reiner won't listen to me, Graham. He gave them access to everything."
Graham’s eyes filled. He leaned back and took an uneven breath. "Joan... there was another reason I contacted you. My mother died last night."
Compassion cut through Joan’s panic. She stood and embraced her old college friend. Graham held on for a moment, his head resting against her shoulder.
Outside the café window, hidden inside a parked car across the street, a camera lens clicked.
Macey sat in the passenger seat, holding a digital camera. She captured a clear picture of Joan holding Graham close.
Macey smiled, adjusted her lipstick, and sent the photograph. Before Joan stood to leave the café, the image was already on Reiner’s phone.