Chapter 2 - THE OFFER
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the black SUV.
I told myself it was nothing.
A coincidence.
A paranoid old man.
A corporate dispute.
Anything except what Henry had suggested.
But at 2:13 a.m., someone knocked on my apartment door.
I froze.
Another knock.
“Madison?”
I recognized Ethan's voice.
I opened the door only an inch.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“At two in the morning?”
“Unfortunately.”
I opened the door.
He stood in the hallway without his coat.
“You can't be here.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you?”
“Because someone followed you home.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
Ethan pointed toward the street.
“Don't look directly outside.”
Naturally, I looked.
A dark sedan sat beneath a broken streetlamp.
“That's been there for forty minutes.”
“How do you know?”
“My security team has been tracking it.”
I stared at him.
“You put security on me?”
“After what happened this morning.”
“I didn't ask you to.”
“I know.”
His voice softened.
“That's why I'm asking now.”
“Ask what?”
“Come stay somewhere safe.”
I laughed nervously.
“You mean your mansion?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“Madison—”
“No.”
He sighed.
“You're stubborn.”
“I've had to be.”
That silenced him.
I hadn't intended to say it.
But the words came anyway.
“My mother died last year. I lost my savings paying her medical bills. My aunt is threatening to take the storage unit. I work twelve-hour days. And now apparently someone is following me because I bought an old man bread.”
Ethan looked genuinely stunned.
“I didn't know.”
“Of course you didn't.”
He stepped closer.
“Tell me what you need.”
“I need my life back.”
His expression changed.
“Then let's get it back.”
The next morning, I walked into Prescott Global.
The lobby alone was bigger than my entire apartment building.
Marble floors.
Glass elevators.
Security guards.
A massive chandelier hanging above people who probably spent more on watches than I earned in a year.
I felt like I had accidentally entered another universe.
Ethan was waiting.
“You came.”
“I said I'd hear your offer.”
He smiled faintly.
“That's progress.”
“What offer?”
“A job.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“You haven't heard it.”
“I know what rich people mean when they say job.”
He almost smiled.
“Then hear me out.”
He led me into a conference room.
A woman in a gray suit was waiting.
“This is Caroline Mercer,” Ethan said. “Chief operating officer.”
Caroline stood.
“Madison.”
Her handshake was firm.
“I've heard about you.”
“That was fast.”
“In this company, gossip travels faster than email.”
She opened a folder.
“We need someone to oversee the Prescott Foundation's emergency outreach program.”
“I have no experience.”
“You have something better.”
“What?”
“You stopped.”
I frowned.
Caroline explained.
“The foundation distributes food, emergency housing assistance, medical grants, and disaster relief. We've been losing money through fake recipients and fraudulent vendors.”
My stomach tightened.
“The thirty-two million?”
Ethan nodded.
“That theft came from the foundation.”
“And you want me to investigate it?”
“No.”
He looked directly at me.
“I want you to help us find the people stealing from it.”
I laughed.
“You want a delivery driver to investigate a corporate fraud scheme?”
Caroline smiled.
“That's exactly why.”
Before I could respond, the conference room door opened.
Henry entered.
He wore a charcoal suit.
I barely recognized him.
He looked powerful.
Not billionaire powerful.
Something older.
Something colder.
“Madison.”
“You clean up well.”
He smiled.
“So do you.”
I looked at Ethan.
“You knew he was coming?”
“No.”
Henry dropped a file onto the table.
“I found something.”
Ethan opened it.
His face changed.
“What is this?”
“Your grandfather's private trust.”
Ethan went still.
“That's impossible.”
“Nothing is impossible.”
Henry looked at me.
“Especially in this family.”
I glanced at the documents.
A name appeared repeatedly.
Prescott Legacy Trust.
“What's wrong with it?”
Ethan turned a page.
“Someone has been transferring money from this trust.”
“How much?”
Henry answered.
“Over two hundred million.”
Silence.
Caroline stepped forward.
“That's impossible. The trust hasn't been touched in decades.”
Henry shook his head.
“Someone has been touching it.”
Ethan stared at the signature.
His face became pale.
“Dad…”
“What?”
“This authorization…”
He held up the page.
“It has Grandpa's signature.”
Henry's eyes narrowed.
“That can't be.”
“Grandpa died twenty years ago.”
Nobody spoke.
Then I noticed something.
“Wait.”
They all looked at me.
I pointed at the document.
“There's a date.”
Ethan looked.
His eyes widened.
The authorization was dated three months ago.
Someone had forged a dead man's signature.
And whoever did it knew exactly how the Prescott family operated.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A distorted voice whispered:
“You should have left the old man hungry.”
The call ended.
Ethan took the phone from my hand.
His face was furious.
Henry looked at him.
“They've made their choice.”
Ethan looked at me.
“So have we.”
I didn't understand.
Until he said:
“Madison, you're not just getting a job.”
May you like
He closed the file.
“You're going to help me find the person who is trying to destroy my family.”
