Chapter 11 - Eleven Days
The deadline changed everything.
This was no longer simply about stolen credit.
Grant had promised millions he did not have.
Ryan had promised information he could not legally obtain.
And January fifteenth was approaching.
Federal investigators became involved.
My company’s legal department interviewed me for nearly five hours.
I handed them my devices.
My access logs.
My messages.
My calendar.
Everything.
At the end, the general counsel closed her notebook.
“Claire, our preliminary review shows no evidence you shared confidential information.”
Relief nearly knocked the air out of me.
“But.”
There was always a but.
“Someone accessed your home router repeatedly while your work laptop was connected.”
“Ryan.”
“We can’t conclude that yet.”
I could.
That evening, I returned to the penthouse and opened every cabinet Ryan had used.
I was no longer searching for explanations.
I was searching for evidence.
In the bedroom, I found nothing.
In the guest room, nothing.
Then I opened Ryan’s old golf bag.
Inside a side pocket was a burner phone.
Dead battery.
I charged it.
When the screen turned on, there was no passcode.
Arrogance again.
The messages went back six months.
Most were between Ryan and Grant.
One caught my attention.
GRANT.
Need Claire’s token tonight.
RYAN.
She keeps it on key ring.
GRANT.
Copy it.
RYAN.
Working on it.
I looked at my keys on the counter.
My company used a physical security token for certain restricted systems.
I carried it every day.
Except one weekend in September when I could not find it.
Ryan had “discovered” it beneath the couch.
I had laughed at myself for being careless.
I kept scrolling.
Three days later.
RYAN.
Clone failed.
GRANT.
Then get the data another way.
A later conversation mentioned someone named VICTOR.
GRANT.
Victor says metadata may be enough.
RYAN.
He wants too much money.
GRANT.
Cheaper than prison.
I photographed everything.
Then the burner phone rang.
I stared at the screen.
UNKNOWN CALLER.
I answered but said nothing.
A man spoke.
“Ryan?”
I stayed silent.
“Ryan, you need to tell Grant the deal is off.”
My pulse quickened.
“Who is this?”
Silence.
Then.
“Who is this?”
“This is Claire Bennett.”
The line went quiet.
I heard one breath.
Then the man whispered.
“You shouldn’t have that phone.”
“Are you Victor?”
The call disconnected.
But before I could lower the phone, a text appeared.
Delete everything.
May you like
Then another.
If Grant learns you found me, Brooke won’t be the one who needs protection.
