Chapter 3

The next morning, Alia walked through the glass doors of Legatum Designs.

She wore a tailored black suit. The sharp cut of the blazer matched the hard line of her jaw. Her heels clicked against the polished concrete floor in a fast, aggressive rhythm.

Employees in the hallway took one look at her face and immediately stepped out of her way, lowering their eyes to their phones.

Nina jogged to keep up with her.

"Ms. Garner," Nina said, her voice tight. "Shane Boggs didn't submit the compliance report for the city bid."

Alia stopped walking. Her heels skidded slightly on the floor. She turned her head. Her eyes were completely flat.

"Pull all of Shane's project data from the last six months," Alia ordered. "Bring it to the conference room. Now."

Alia pushed open the door to the main conference room. She walked to the head of the long glass table. She dropped her leather portfolio onto the surface with a loud smack.

The rest of the team filed in silently. They took their seats.

Ten minutes passed. The door swung open.

Shane Boggs walked in. He held a paper coffee cup in one hand. He pulled out a chair, the metal legs scraping loudly against the floor. He slump into the seat and crossed his arms.

"Traffic was a nightmare," Shane said, smirking. "Had a late dinner with some city planners."

Alia did not look at his face. She pressed a button on the remote in her hand. The projector screen dropped down behind her.

A massive Excel spreadsheet filled the screen. It was the cost analysis for the municipal planning bid.

Alia picked up a laser pointer. The red dot hit the screen, circling three different cells.

"Explain these data gaps," Alia said. Her voice was dangerously quiet. "These are severe compliance violations. If this went to the city, Legatum would face a million-dollar fine."

Shane shifted in his chair. He waved his hand dismissively.

"It's standard industry padding, Alia," Shane said. He leaned back. "You women in management get so hung up on the paperwork. You don't understand how the real networking happens."

The room went dead silent. No one breathed.

Alia smiled. It was a cold, terrifying stretching of her lips.

She looked at Nina and nodded.

Nina walked around the table, dropping a thick, bound file in front of every person in the room.

Shane opened his copy. His face lost all its color.

The file contained a log of his missed deadlines. Behind that were copies of his expense reports, cross-referenced with his personal credit card receipts.

"You expensed a weekend in Miami to the St. Metas project," Alia said. She placed both hands flat on the glass table and leaned forward. "You embezzled company funds."

Sweat broke out on Shane's forehead. He wiped it away with the back of his hand.

"You can't do this," Shane stammered. He pointed a shaking finger at her. "Griffin Hinton is my uncle. The Chairman is my family. You touch me, and you're done in this industry."

Alia stared at him. She felt nothing but absolute disgust.

"Legatum Designs does not employ dead weight who can't even balance a spreadsheet," Alia said.

She reached out and pressed the intercom button on the center console.

"HR. Send security to Conference Room A," Alia said into the speaker.

Shane jumped up. His knee hit the table. His coffee cup tipped over, sending hot brown liquid spilling across the glass.

"You bitch!" Shane yelled. "I'll ruin you!"

"If you say one more word," Alia said, not moving an inch, "I will have legal file criminal charges for the embezzlement before you reach the lobby."

The door opened. Two large security guards walked in. They grabbed Shane by the arms and pulled him backward.

Shane kicked the doorframe as they dragged him into the hallway. His curses echoed down the corridor until the elevator doors finally closed.

Alia pulled a tissue from the box on the table. She wiped the spilled coffee off the glass, her movements slow and deliberate.

She threw the wet tissue into the trash. She looked up at the terrified team.

"Fix the data. I want a perfect proposal on my desk by eight tonight," she commanded.

The room emptied in seconds. Alia sat alone in the quiet room. She rubbed her temples. A dull throb pulsed behind her eyes.

Her phone buzzed on the table. The caller ID read: Arthur Kingston - City Planning Commissioner.

Her stomach tightened. She picked up the phone.