Chapter 13 - ROOM 2806
Security traced Victor’s final hotel access to Room 2806 at The Monarch Grand.
The room had been registered under a fake name.
Charlotte entered with investigators after hotel security preserved the scene.
The suite appeared empty.
Almost.
A shredded document remained in a wastebasket.
A broken flash drive lay beneath the desk.
Three disposable phones were hidden behind the television.
And inside the closet sat two empty briefcases.
Marcus stared around the room.
“He was working from inside your hotel.”
Charlotte nodded.
“Apparently everyone likes stealing from me while sleeping in my buildings.”
Ethan did not smile.
He still felt guilty about the lobby.
Charlotte had already told him he had nothing to apologize for.
He had followed her instruction.
That did not stop him from blaming himself.
A forensic technician reconstructed fragments from the shredder.
PROJECT MONARCH EXIT.
Below it were dates.
Property names.
Miami Crown.
Carlton Chicago.
Bennett San Francisco.
Transfer date.
Friday.
Charlotte looked at the calendar.
Thursday.
“They planned to move the properties tomorrow.”
Jonathan nodded.
“If the holding companies close before we obtain court intervention, recovery becomes much harder.”
“Then we stop it tonight.”
The team moved.
Emergency filings.
Bank notifications.
Property-record alerts.
Trustee notices.
Charlotte worked from the Monarch boardroom until midnight.
Ryan called repeatedly.
She ignored him.
At 12:17 a.m., a federal investigator arrived.
The scale of interstate transfers and potential wire fraud had pushed the case beyond an internal company matter.
Charlotte handed over the records.
At 1:04 a.m., Jonathan received the first emergency order blocking the Miami transfer.
At 1:31, Chicago was frozen.
San Francisco remained.
At 2:12, Marcus rushed into the room.
“Someone changed the transfer time.”
Charlotte stood.
“To when?”
“Twenty minutes from now.”
Her pulse jumped.
“Who authorized it?”
Marcus looked at the screen.
“Ryan.”
Charlotte stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“His credentials were just used.”
Charlotte grabbed her phone.
She called Ryan.
He answered on the second ring.
“What?”
“Where are you?”
“My apartment.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“Show me.”
“What?”
“Video.”
Ryan switched cameras.
His small Manhattan apartment appeared.
Empty.
Charlotte watched his face.
“Someone is using your credentials.”
Ryan stopped breathing.
Then he turned toward his desk.
A drawer stood open.
“My laptop.”
“What?”
“It’s gone.”
“Who has access to your apartment?”
“Nobody.”
“Think.”
Ryan’s face changed.
“Sabrina.”
Charlotte closed her eyes.
May you like
Sabrina had never surrendered her first phone.
And suddenly nobody knew where she was.
