Chapter 4
Chapter Four The next morning, Ethan Hayes walked through the wide glass doors of Cole Global Enterprise. He’d walked through those same doors before, but always as the CEO— a formidable figure that made executives straighten their ties, assistants whisper, and security stiffen. Adrian Cole rarely appeared in public, but when he did, the sheer weight of his name filled the room.
Now, no one looked twice.
That was the point.
The badge clipped to his chest read ‘Ethan Hayes, Logistics Staff’. From weeks of quiet observation, he knew it was the perfect cover—one that granted access to nearly every floor while keeping him invisible, just another cog in the machine no one noticed. He tightened his grip on the strap of his worn bag, the one Daniel had insisted looked “convincingly shabby.” His crisp suits and expensive watches were locked away in storage. He wore scuffed boots, faded jeans, and a gray shirt that didn’t fit quite right. Even his hair was dyed, a little longer, a little messier than he would normally allow.
He had stripped himself of Adrian Cole, and it was strange, liberating even, to move through the world as someone invisible.
“Morning, Hayes,” a voice called from the doorway.
Adrian turned, schooling his features into a faint smile. Daniel leaned casually against the frame, dressed immaculately as always. No one here would guess that Daniel was his personal assistant.
“You look like hell,” Daniel said with a grin, eyes scanning the frayed edges of Adrian’s disguise. “Which is to say, you look perfect.”
Adrian huffed out a laugh. “That’s the idea. No one’s supposed to think twice about Ethan Hayes.”
Daniel straightened his cufflinks. “Your employee file is in the system. Logistics staff, probationary hire. I pulled some strings with HR, nothing suspicious—just the usual paperwork trail. From today forward, you’re another cog in the machine. You’ll be assigned deliveries, inventory checks, that sort of thing. Nothing glamorous.”
“Good.” Adrian’s voice hardened. “The less glamorous, the better. I want to see how this company actually runs without everyone fawning over me. If there’s rot, it starts down here, where no one’s paying attention.”
Daniel’s expression sobered, the grin fading. “There is rot alright. We’ve traced missing funds and phantom shipments. There are supplier contracts that make no sense. But catching it from the outside is like chasing shadows. If you’re in here, blending in… you might finally see the hands moving the pieces.”
Adrian nodded once. His jaw tightened as he remembered the boardroom reports, the polished executives insisting on “minor discrepancies” in the books. Minor discrepancies that amounted to millions. Vanessa and her clique had grown bolder, hiding behind jargon and layers of approvals.
He had trusted them. He had let them think they could run the show while he planned his next expansion project overseas. That trust had cost him.
Not anymore.
“Keep the board off my back,” Adrian said quietly. “As far as they’re concerned, I’m overseas on business. No one can suspect I’m here.”
Daniel gave a small salute. “Already handled. I’ve forwarded the fake itinerary. Europe, then Asia. Lots of hotel check-ins and flight reservations under your name. You’re traveling the world, Adrian. Meanwhile, Ethan Hayes is clocking in for the morning shift.”
Adrian almost smiled at that. Almost.
“You’re the new guy? Hayes?” A voice barked as soon as he reached the back offices. A thickset man with thinning hair and a clipboard stepped forward, eyes narrowed.
“Yes,” Adrian answered, steady.
“Grayson,” the man said, not offering a hand. “You’re with me. Logistics isn’t glamorous, but we keep the place running. Boxes, files, shipments, all the works. You move what I say, when I say. Got it?”
“Got it,” Adrian replied.
Grayson gave him a once-over, then jerked his chin toward the warehouse elevators. “Good. Let’s see if you can lift more than a pen.”
Adrian followed, suppressing a smirk. If only you knew.
“Start with inventory check in Bay Three. Trucks come in at ten. Don’t screw it up.”
That was it. No handshake, no welcoming speech. Just a task tossed at him like a bone. Adrian turned away before his lip could curl in amusement. This was the world his employees lived in. Forgotten, undervalued, and expected to perform without acknowledgment. He had read about morale issues in the lower departments, but seeing it firsthand was different. It was colder.
He made his way to Bay Three, the warehouse floor echoing with the clang of pallets and the rumble of forklifts. Workers moved round the clock, shouting over the noise. Adrian slipped into the flow easily, clipboard in hand, noting the incoming shipment of electronics—components worth thousands, maybe tens of thousands, shoved into crates like they were nothing.
He crouched, checking labels, recording numbers, watching how quickly signatures were scrawled without a second glance. This was how inventory vanished. A missing box here, a mislabel there. Easy to lose track of. Easy to cover up.
The air smelled of grease and cardboard, heavy with the metallic tang of machinery. He noticed the rhythm of the place—workers running on muscle memory, supervisors watching the clock more than the cargo. If you wanted to hide theft, this chaos was fertile ground.
Adrian straightened, eyes narrowing as he spotted a man at the far end of the bay accepting a delivery without checking the manifest. The man scribbled something on a pad, then waved the truck away. Too fast. Adrian made a mental note.
He moved on, blending in, unnoticed. Ethan Hayes was invisible. Adrian Cole was watching everything.
-----
By noon, his shirt clung with sweat, his boots heavy with dust.
Logistics was as much grunt work as it was paperwork. Pallets of supplies rolled in. Inventory had to be checked, signed, and redistributed across departments. Half the staff worked with weary efficiency, the other half with barely concealed resentment.
But Adrian wasn’t there to complain. He was watching.
The first crack in the system appeared sooner than he expected.
Late afternoon, as he was filing delivery slips into the computer, Adrian noticed a discrepancy. The computer listed five crates delivered from a supplier, but the slip in his hand listed six. He double-checked, scanning the codes. Five in the database, six on paper.
He looked around. No one else seemed to care. Workers tossed slips into bins, clerks typed half-heartedly, supervisors barely looked up.
Adrian slipped the extra slip into his pocket. Evidence. One thread in a web he was determined to unravel.
He noted every irregularity. Duplicate shipments logged under different codes. Supplies signed out to departments that didn’t need them. Delays that made no sense, costs that didn’t add up.
This is where it starts, he thought. The leaks. The false trails.
He hadn’t lifted boxes in years, not since his college days when he insisted on working construction during summers “for the experience.” Back then, his father had scolded him, telling him a Cole didn’t need to waste time with menial labor.
Now, he found a grim satisfaction in it. Every box he hauled, every form he filled, stripped another layer of entitlement from his skin. He wasn’t above this work. No one should be.
At one point, he caught a glimpse of Vanessa Blake sweeping past the loading dock. She didn’t look at him — why would she? To her, he was background noise. But he saw her snap at an assistant trailing behind, saw the way her hand tightened around a tablet as if the device itself were incompetent.
Her voice carried, sharp and dismissive. “If Logistics misses another deadline, that’s on you. Do I make myself clear?”
The assistant stammered something apologetic. Vanessa rolled her eyes, heels clicking away.
Adrian’s hands curled into fists at his sides. He forced himself back to the clipboard in his hand. Logistics staff didn’t glare at executives. Logistics staff blended in.
On break, he sat on a bench outside, drinking water from a battered bottle Daniel had shoved at him that morning. Workers around him smoked or scrolled through their phones. No one paid him any mind.
And yet… his thoughts strayed. To her. The girl with the sketchbook.
He hadn’t meant to cross paths with her that day in the rain. He wondered what she was doing at this time.
Adrian rubbed a hand over his jaw. He shouldn’t be thinking about her. He had a mission, a company to save. But the memory of her beautiful face crept in when he least expected it.
He told himself it was nothing—just gratitude for a sandwich and a kindness most people had forgotten how to show. Still, the thought of her followed him like a shadow.
He would see her again. Of that he was certain. The city wasn’t big enough to keep them apart forever.
For now, though, he was Ethan Hayes. He had a company to infiltrate, a conspiracy to untangle, and an empire to reclaim.
-----
That night, back in his rundown apartment, Adrian sat at the shaky table with Daniel’s devices spread out before him. A miniature recorder, no larger than a pen cap. A thumb drive designed to bypass most security.
He’d already mapped out his plan. Logistics gave him freedom — shipments moved everywhere, and with them, so could he. He could appear in finance under the pretense of deliveries, in marketing with supplies, even in the executive wing if he carried the right box under his arm.
They would never question the man in coveralls.
He powered on the recorder, watching the red light blink once before fading, silent and undetectable.
Adrian leaned back, the radiator clanking behind him. Somewhere beyond the thin walls, a neighbor argued over the television volume. The noise was oddly grounding.
Tomorrow, he would slip deeper into their world. Tomorrow, he would plant the first device.