Chapter 14 – The Leak
The altered bids reached Marcus Hale exactly as planned.
Not through me.
Through Hunter.
He’d forwarded them late Friday night—encrypted email to an address he thought belonged to a “friendly contact.”
The address belonged to Marcus.
Marcus called me Saturday morning.
Voice tight with real anger now.
“Victoria, these numbers are garbage. If this is what your team is working with, the partnership is dead.”
I let silence sit for three beats.
Then: “Send me what you received.”
He did.
I forwarded it straight to legal with one line:
Trace origin. Prepare breach of confidentiality claim.
By Monday, the trace was back.
Thumbprint on the drive: Hunter Chase.
IP on the email: guest Wi-Fi at the penthouse.
Time-stamped during hours only Hunter had access.
I didn’t call him in.
I didn’t need to.
Marcus did it for me.
Publicly.
At the pre-board luncheon he’d hosted for both companies.
He laid the fake bids on the table.
Asked, loud enough for every phone to catch it, how Harrington Enterprises could be so careless with proprietary data.
Reporters were already there.
The story wrote itself.
#HaleHarringtonCollapse trended before dessert.
Shares dipped eight percent by close.
Hunter came to my office at six.
Face pale.
Eyes wide with something close to panic.
“I didn’t—someone must have—”
I looked at him.
Let the silence stretch.
He stopped talking.
I slid the trace report across the desk.
He read it.
Color left completely.
“I can explain—”
“No need,” I said.
I pressed the intercom.
“Security to my office.”
He stood frozen as they escorted him out.
No shouting.
No scene.
Just the quiet click of the door.
I turned to the window.
Watched the city lights flicker.
The trap had worked.
But I hadn’t sprung it.
He had.