Chapter 2 Ripples

The office smelled faintly of coffee, glass cleaner, and nerves.

Jeremy stood stiffly by Marcel's desk, clutching a printed report like it was a live grenade.

Marcel didn't look up. He was typing, calm as always. Too calm.

Jeremy cleared his throat. "We found something in the quarterly audit."

Marcel's fingers paused over the keys. "Something," he repeated. "That's vague."

Jeremy stepped forward, placing the paper gently on the desk. "It's not good, sir. One of the financial managers,Valentino moved funds into a shell account. Quietly. Over months."

Marcel finally looked up. His face was unreadable, but his eyes were sharp.

"Valentino?" he said slowly, as if tasting the name.

"Yes. He's been with the company for a few years. Clean record until now."

Marcel leaned back in his chair. "I want everything you can find on him. Discreetly. I don't want HR catching wind of this yet."

Jeremy nodded. "Should I alert security?"

"No. Not yet. I want to know who he talks to, where he goes, what he eats for breakfast if you can manage it."

Jeremy hesitated. "Sir, he's got a daughter. University student. Could be a motive. Family pressure, maybe?"

Marcel raised an eyebrow. "A daughter?"

Jeremy handed over a file. "Lucy Valentino. Waitress, part-time. Top of her class. Helps care for her mother. Her dad's income barely covers their bills."

Marcel didn't say anything for a long moment. He flipped the file shut.

"Start with him," he said. "Not her."

Across the City – 5:45 p.m.

The diner buzzed with the low hum of clinking glasses and tired conversations.

Lucy balanced three plates on her arm as she weaved between tables, dodging kids and spilled ketchup.

"Table five," June called from behind the counter. "Two burgers, one extra pickles!"

"I got it," Lucy replied, brushing hair from her forehead with her elbow.

She dropped off the plates at table seven and hurried back, tying her apron tighter. Her feet ached, but there was no time to feel it.

"Slow down, Lu," June said gently. "You'll wear a hole in the floor."

Lucy offered a tired smile. "I've got thirty minutes before Mom's next meds. If I leave on time, I'll catch the pharmacy before they close."

June's expression softened. "You're doing your best. Just remember to breathe."

Lucy nodded, grabbing the burgers and delivering them with a practiced smile. "Enjoy, folks."

At the back of the diner, her phone buzzed.

One voicemail. Unknown number.

She swiped it open.

"Miss Valentino, this is Officer Bright from the City Police Department. We need you to come down to the station. It's about your father. Please call us back as soon as possible."

Lucy froze.

The plate in her hand shook slightly.

She looked over at June, who noticed immediately.

"What happened?"

"I... I think my dad's in trouble," Lucy said, voice shaking. "Police just called."

Later That Night – Police Station

The room was too cold. Too white. Lucy sat in the chair across from Officer Bright, her hands clutched in her lap.

"Your father's been arrested," he said gently. "Charged with corporate embezzlement. Over three hundred thousand."

Lucy blinked. "That has to be wrong. He's never even been late to work. We can't even afford..." Her voice cracked.

"I know this is hard," the officer said. "But he confessed. Said he was trying to cover medical bills and your tuition.''

he just snapped."

Tears pricked the corners of her eyes. "He wouldn't. He would've told me."

Officer Bright slid a paper across the table. "He wanted you to have this. He asked me to give it to you personally."

It was a letter.

Just one line in her father's handwriting:

I'm sorry, Lucy. I thought I could fix it before they noticed. I didn't want you to see me like this.

Meanwhile – Marcel's Office, 11:17 p.m.

Jeremy returned, holding a new file.

"He's been arrested," he reported. "Police have him in custody. Confessed to everything."

Marcel sat behind his desk, sipping coffee like he hadn't just ruined a family's life.

Jeremy added quietly, "They have a daughter, like I said. She's clean. No involvement."

Marcel didn't respond.

Jeremy hesitated. "It's just... she's struggling. School, her mom's illness. I thought maybe.."

"This isn't a charity," Marcel cut in. "I want every penny accounted for. I don't care if his daughter's a nun and his wife bakes cookies for orphans."

Jeremy shut his mouth.

But as he turned to leave, Marcel tapped the file.

"...Still," Marcel said, almost to himself, "find out where she works."