Chapter 3 - Forty-Three Buildings
I froze Adrian's delegated signature access from Hannah's kitchen table.
Thirty seconds later, my phone rang.
He knew.
I declined the call.
Then I called our outside forensic accountant.
"I need every North Harbor transaction for six years."
"All forty-three properties?"
"You already know the number?"
A pause.
"It's in the portfolio system."
"Then start now."
I ended the call.
Hannah stood by the window with both arms crossed.
"Can they still evict us?"
"Not today."
She looked at me.
"That is not the same as no."
"No."
I hated how quickly I was learning to answer her honestly.
"The notice is frozen. My attorney is filing a formal withdrawal and preservation hold."
"And tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow I find out who did this."
She shook her head.
"Mr. Moretti, my brothers don't need your corporate war."
Eli looked up from the table.
He was eleven and trying hard to look older.
"We can stay with Ms. Alvarez."
Hannah turned.
"No."
"If they kick us out."
"They won't."
Her voice was firm.
Her hand was shaking.
I noticed.
I looked away so she could pretend I had not.
Thomas returned from the hallway.
"The management office is locked."
"During business hours?"
"Apparently everyone left thirty minutes ago."
Adrian's warning reached them fast.
I called estate security.
"Preserve all footage from last night at the staff entrance."
"Already archived, sir."
"Who has remote access?"
"Executive security."
"Names."
The supervisor hesitated.
"You. Mr. Keller."
"Mr. Grant. Me."
Hannah heard.
Her face changed.
"Mr. Keller can see the house cameras?"
"Some exterior and common-area feeds."
"So he could have seen my bag."
My chest tightened.
"Possibly."
She laughed without humor.
"There's that word."
I deserved it.
I turned to Thomas.
"Change every access credential at the estate."
"Including Adrian?"
"Especially Adrian."
My forensic accountant, Lena Ortiz, joined by video forty minutes later.
She did not waste time.
"I pulled three years so far."
"What do you see?"
"Unusually high capital spending."
"How high?"
"North Harbor reports about six-point-two million in rehabilitation and emergency repairs over thirty-six months."
I stared.
"Supported?"
"Not yet."
"Vendor concentration?"
She shared her screen.
Keller Property Services.
Midwest Urban Mechanical.
Lake City Electrical.
Harbor Tenant Assistance.
Four names.
Seventy-one percent of the spend.
"Ownership?"
"Working on it."
Thomas said:
"Keller Property is Adrian's cousin."
Lena looked up.
"That's a conflict."
"Was it disclosed?"
"I don't know yet."
I knew what that meant.
Another document I had probably trusted somebody else to summarize.
Lena continued:
"There is something else."
I almost laughed.
Every hour now contained something else.
"Each repair package stays below two hundred fifty thousand dollars."
"So?"
"Your delegation policy allows the COO to execute approved capital expenses under two-fifty without returning to you for individual signature."
My stomach tightened.
"He structured them below the limit."
"Looks that way."
"My signature still appears."
"Because the delegation generates your executive certificate as principal."
There it was.
Not forged.
Not exactly.
Worse.
Legally authorized machinery used for things I never reviewed.
Hannah was listening.
"So your name is real."
I turned.
"The authorization is real. The decisions may not be."
"People living here won't care about the difference."
She was right.
I hated that too.
Lena said:
"Vincent, I need your attention."
She opened another tab.
Building 12.
Roof replacement billed twice.
Building 18.
Electrical modernization billed at $198,400.
Building 24.
Boiler replacement $241,900.
Hannah's building.
Heating upgrade $226,700.
I looked toward the ancient furnace closet.
"Fake."
"At least partly."
"How much unsupported total?"
Lena hesitated.
"Current estimate: $6.2 million."
I went still.
Hannah's younger brother Ben looked up from his homework.
"Is that a lot?"
Nobody answered.
Then Eli did.
"Yes."
Smart kid.
Too smart for this room.
I stepped into the hallway.
"Lena, who approved the rehab budgets?"
"Portfolio executive."
"Name."
Silence.
Then:
"Adrian Keller."
I closed my eyes.
Twenty-three years.
Birthdays.
Funerals.
Private flights.
Board fights.
Adrian had held my daughter's hand while she waited for stitches at age seven.
He knew the code to my wine cellar.
He knew which hospital my mother died in.
He knew the staff meal policy.
He knew everything.
My phone buzzed.
Adrian again.
This time a text.
WE NEED TO CONTROL THIS BEFORE TENANTS PANIC.
Not before we know the truth.
Before tenants panic.
I typed nothing.
Then another message.
CALL ME BEFORE YOU DAMAGE YOURSELF.
I stared.
Not the company.
Me.
Thomas came out.
"There's another problem."
"What?"
"One of the forty-three buildings had a fire complaint last month."
"Resolved?"
"On paper."
"In reality?"
He showed me photographs from a tenant forum.
Blackened breaker panel.
Melted outlet.
Children sleeping beside extension cords.
My jaw tightened.
"We inspect all forty-three. Independent teams. Tonight."
"That will alert Adrian."
"He already knows."
I looked through the apartment door at Hannah.
She was helping Ben spell a word.
The canvas bag sat on a chair nearby.
Old.
Faded.
Stitched along one side.
A tiny object pressed strangely under the repaired fabric.
I noticed it.
Then forgot it when my phone rang again.
This time Lena.
Her voice was sharp.
"Vincent, Building 18 just reported an electrical fire."
I went cold.
"Any injuries?"
"Unknown."
"That building had a full electrical replacement six months ago."
"According to your records."
I looked at Thomas.
Then Hannah.
The first sirens were already screaming somewhere in the distance.
Lena pushed another spreadsheet onto the screen.
Tenant-assistance grants.
Emergency heating stipends.
Relocation support.
Hundreds of thousands supposedly paid to residents.
Hannah scanned the names.
"I know her."
She pointed to Mrs. Alvarez.
Payment listed: $2,500 emergency heating assistance.
"She never got that."
Another tenant.
Another payment.
Another person Hannah knew had begged for help.
The theft was not only from my company.
It was theft from people already counting pennies.
Lena said quietly:
"Vincent, if even half these grants are fictitious, we may be looking at federal program fraud too."
The room got quieter.
Adrian had not built a side hustle.
May you like
He had built a machine.
CUT.
