Chapter 5 Early Signs Something is Wrong

LEXI'S POV

The Verity Holdings manufacturing facility sprawled across twenty acres of industrial land an hour northeast of the city, a complex of warehouses and production buildings that hummed with the constant activity of eight hundred employees working in shifts around the clock. As Gabriel parked his Tesla in the executive spot near the main entrance, I tried to reconcile the impressive scale of operations with my father's small hardware store that had been crushed by this company's expansion.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Gabriel said, noticing my expression as we walked toward the main building. "When we broke ground here five years ago, this area was mostly abandoned farmland. Now it's one of the largest manufacturing centers in the region."

"How many people work here?" I asked, pulling my jacket tighter against the morning chill.

"Eight hundred and twelve as of last week. Most of them local hires-we prioritized employing people from the surrounding communities rather than bringing in workers from other areas."

Another mark in the "Gabriel might actually be ethical" column. But I'd learned not to trust surface impressions in my investigation work. Companies could create jobs while simultaneously destroying the small businesses that had previously served those communities.

Inside the main building, we were met by Janet Rodriguez, the facility manager-a woman in her fifties with graying hair and the kind of competent energy that suggested she could run the entire operation single-handedly if necessary.

"Mr. Verity, good to see you again," she said, shaking his hand warmly. "And you must be the new assistant we've heard about. Alexandra, right?"

"Alexandra Sterling," I confirmed. "Thank you for accommodating our visit on short notice."

"Always happy to show off what we've built here." Janet's pride in the facility was obvious. "Shall we start with the main production floor?"

The tour that followed was both impressive and educational. Gabriel moved through the facility with easy familiarity, greeting workers by name, asking specific questions about production schedules and safety protocols. This wasn't a CEO making a ceremonial visit-this was someone who genuinely understood the operations and cared about the people who made them possible.

But it was during our stop at the quality control station that I noticed the first irregularity.

"These are the final inspection reports," Janet was explaining, showing us a computer terminal where technicians logged defect rates and compliance issues. "We maintain quality standards well above industry averages."

Gabriel studied the screen, nodding approvingly. "Rejection rates are down from last quarter. Good work."

I looked over his shoulder at the data, and something caught my attention-a series of entries from three weeks ago that showed unusual patterns. Batch numbers that didn't follow the standard sequence, inspection codes that seemed to bypass normal protocols, shipment destinations that were coded differently from the rest.

"What are these entries?" I asked, pointing to the anomalous data.

Janet leaned closer to look at the screen, and I saw a flicker of something-confusion? concern?-cross her expression before she composed herself.

"Those would be the special handling orders," she said. "Some clients have unique requirements that need different processing procedures."

"Special handling?" Gabriel's attention sharpened. "I don't recall approving any non-standard procedures recently."

"Oh, these came through Marcus Webb's office," Janet said quickly. "CFO authorization for a rush delivery to one of our premium accounts. Everything was properly documented."

Gabriel nodded, seeming to accept the explanation, but I noticed he made a mental note of the information. As we continued the tour, I found myself paying closer attention to the subtle dynamics between the facility staff and management.

During our lunch break in the employee cafeteria, I excused myself to use the restroom and took a detour past the shipping and receiving area. The loading docks were busy with trucks arriving and departing, but what caught my eye was a smaller side entrance where two men in expensive suits were having an intense conversation with a man in work clothes.

One of the suited men looked familiar, though I couldn't immediately place him. The conversation appeared heated, with lots of pointing and head-shaking, but they were too far away for me to hear what was being discussed.

"Finding everything okay?" a voice behind me asked.

I turned to see James Morrison approaching, his presence completely unexpected at the manufacturing facility.

"Oh, yes," I said, hoping my surprise didn't show. "Just looking for the restroom."

"It's back toward the cafeteria," he said, his watchful eyes studying my face. "Interesting facility, isn't it? Lots of moving parts, lots of opportunities for things to go wrong if people aren't careful."

Something in his tone made me think he wasn't just talking about manufacturing processes.

"It seems very well-organized," I replied carefully.

"Appearances can be deceiving," James said with a slight smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Come on, I'll walk you back to the cafeteria. Wouldn't want you to get lost."

When we returned to the lunch area, Gabriel was deep in conversation with Janet about production schedules for the next quarter. James disappeared without explanation, leaving me to wonder what the head of security was doing at a routine facility visit.

"Everything all right?" Gabriel asked when I rejoined them.

"Perfect," I said, though my mind was racing with questions about what I'd witnessed.

The afternoon portion of the tour focused on the warehouse and shipping operations, where I got a closer look at the logistics systems that moved Verity Holdings' products around the world. The scale was impressive-tens of thousands of items processed daily, shipments coordinated with precision that would make a military operation proud.

But as we walked through the warehouse aisles, I noticed more irregularities. Certain sections were marked as "restricted access," with security cameras that seemed more sophisticated than necessary for standard inventory protection. When I asked about these areas, Janet's explanation was vague-"specialized storage for high-value items."

Gabriel either didn't notice my interest in these details or chose not to comment on it. But I filed away every observation, every inconsistency, every moment when someone's explanation felt just slightly off.

It wasn't until we were driving back to the city that Gabriel brought up James Morrison's unexpected appearance.

"Did James mention why he was at the facility today?" he asked, navigating through traffic that had grown heavy as the afternoon wore on.

"Not really," I said. "Just said he was checking on security protocols."

Gabriel frowned. "That's unusual. Security reviews are typically scheduled in advance, and I would have been notified."

"Maybe it was routine maintenance on the camera systems?"

"Possibly." But he didn't sound convinced.

We drove in comfortable silence for several miles, both of us processing the day's observations. The facility visit had been educational, but it had also raised more questions than it answered. Why were there special handling procedures that Gabriel hadn't been informed about? What was James Morrison really doing there? And who were the men in suits having heated discussions with warehouse workers?

"Alexandra?" Gabriel's voice pulled me from my thoughts. "What's your overall impression of the facility operations?"

I chose my words carefully. "Very impressive scale and organization. Janet clearly knows her business, and the workers seem committed to quality." I paused. "Though I did notice some procedures that seemed... different from what I might have expected."

Gabriel glanced at me, interested. "Such as?"

"The special handling protocols Janet mentioned. And some of the restricted access areas in the warehouse seemed to have unusually sophisticated security for standard inventory."

"Good observations," he said approvingly. "Most people don't pay attention to those kinds of operational details."

"My uncle taught me that understanding the full scope of an organization helps me better support executive decision-making," I said, falling back on my cover story. "If I know how all the pieces fit together, I can anticipate what information you might need."

"That's exactly the kind of strategic thinking that made Elena so valuable," Gabriel said. "She understood that being an executive assistant meant being a business partner, not just administrative support."

The comparison to Elena made me both pleased and nervous. If Gabriel was beginning to trust me the way he'd trusted his previous assistant, it meant I was succeeding in my cover. But it also meant I was deceiving someone who was treating me with genuine respect and confidence.

My phone buzzed with a text message. Unknown number again.

Interesting day at the facility. Some things are best left unexamined. Consider this friendly advice.

I deleted the message immediately, my heart racing. Someone was watching my investigation closely enough to know I'd been asking questions at the manufacturing plant. But who? And why were they warning me away from what I'd observed?

"Problem?" Gabriel asked, noticing my reaction to the phone.

"Just a spam message," I lied, hating how natural deception was becoming.

As we pulled into the parking garage beneath Verity Holdings Tower, Gabriel turned to me with an expression that was both thoughtful and concerned.

"Alexandra, I want you to know that I value your observations and insights. If you ever notice anything that seems unusual or concerning about our operations, I want you to bring it to my attention immediately."

The irony was crushing. Gabriel was asking me to be honest with him about potential problems in his company, while I was actively investigating him based on anonymous accusations of corruption.

"Of course," I said. "I understand the importance of maintaining operational integrity."

"Good." He gathered his files and prepared to exit the car. "Tomorrow we'll be back to routine office work, but I'm glad you got to see the broader scope of what we do."

As we rode the elevator up to the forty-fourth floor, I reflected on the day's discoveries. The manufacturing facility was impressive and appeared to be well-run, but there were definitely irregularities that deserved investigation. Special handling procedures that Gabriel wasn't aware of, restricted areas with unusual security, James Morrison's unexpected presence, and now anonymous warnings to stop asking questions.

None of it proved corruption, but it suggested that not everyone at Verity Holdings was as transparent as Gabriel appeared to be.

Back at my desk, I spent the remaining hour of the workday processing normal administrative tasks while my mind worked on the larger puzzle. I needed to find a way to investigate the anomalies I'd observed without arousing suspicion. The special handling orders that had come through Marcus's office seemed like a logical starting point.

As employees began leaving for the day, I prepared to do the same. But Gabriel emerged from his office with a stack of documents and a concerned expression.

"Alexandra? I need to stay late tonight to review some financial reports. You don't need to stay, but if you're willing, I could use help organizing some background materials."

"Of course," I said without hesitation. "What can I do?"

"There are some vendor contracts that need cross-referencing with payment schedules. Elena used to handle this kind of analysis, but it's detailed work that requires understanding our procurement systems."

Perfect. Working late with Gabriel would give me legitimate access to financial documents, and it would also provide insight into whether he was aware of the irregularities I'd noticed.

"I'm happy to help," I said. "Should I order dinner for us?"

Gabriel's smile was genuinely grateful. "That would be excellent. There's a Thai place that delivers-Elena kept their menu in her desk drawer."

As I settled in for what would clearly be a long evening, I couldn't help but notice how different Gabriel seemed when most of the staff had gone home. Less guarded, more willing to share his thought processes as he worked through complex business decisions.

It was going to be even harder to maintain my objectivity if I kept seeing glimpses of the man behind the corporate reputation. But as I pulled up the vendor contracts he'd requested, I reminded myself that charm and apparent integrity could coexist with corruption.

The evening ahead would either convince me that Gabriel Verity was the ethical businessman he appeared to be, or it would provide the evidence I needed to expose whatever secrets Verity Holdings was hiding.

Either way, working alone with him in the quiet office was going to test every aspect of my professional resolve.

GABE'S POV

I watched Alexandra organize the vendor contracts with the same methodical precision she'd shown throughout the day, and found myself more impressed with her capabilities than I'd expected. The facility visit had been a test of sorts-I wanted to see how she handled being outside her comfort zone, how she processed complex information, and whether she could ask intelligent questions about operations she was seeing for the first time.

She'd exceeded expectations on all counts.

Her observations about the special handling procedures had been particularly astute. I'd been aware that Marcus occasionally approved rush orders for premium clients, but I should have been informed about any procedures that deviated from standard protocols. The fact that Janet had seemed surprised by my lack of knowledge was concerning.

"The vendor payment schedules are more complex than I expected," Alexandra said, looking up from her computer screen. "Some of these companies appear multiple times with different contract terms and payment structures."

"That's normal for our industry," I explained. "We might use the same vendor for different types of services, each with their own pricing and payment terms. What's important is ensuring that all payments are properly authorized and documented."

She nodded, returning to her analysis. But I could see her making mental notes about everything she was learning, the same kind of systematic information gathering that had made Elena so valuable.

The Thai food arrived at eight o'clock, and we ate at the small conference table in my office while continuing to review contracts. There was something comfortably domestic about sharing a meal while working, and I found myself relaxing in ways I rarely did during business hours.

"Can I ask you something?" Alexandra said as she organized a stack of invoices. "The manufacturing facility impressed me, but I noticed some security measures that seemed unusually sophisticated for standard operations. Is that common in your industry?"

Direct question, intelligent observation. I appreciated that she was trying to understand the context for what she'd seen.

"Industrial espionage is a real concern," I said. "Our competitors would love to know our production methods, client lists, and supply chain relationships. The security measures help protect information that gives us competitive advantages."

"That makes sense." She paused, seeming to consider her next question carefully. "James Morrison's presence at the facility today-was that planned?"

Interesting that she'd noticed James hadn't been expected. I'd been wondering the same thing myself.

"No, it wasn't on my calendar," I admitted. "James occasionally does unscheduled security assessments, but he usually informs me beforehand."

"Maybe he was following up on something specific?"

"Maybe." But James's presence had felt opportunistic rather than routine, and his conversation with Alexandra had seemed more like surveillance than casual interaction.

I was beginning to realize that hiring someone as observant as Alexandra came with unexpected complications. She noticed details that most people missed, asked questions that revealed inconsistencies I might have overlooked. That level of awareness would make her invaluable as my assistant, but it also meant I needed to be more careful about what information she had access to.

"These invoices from Morrison Industries are interesting," she said, pulling my attention back to the contracts. "The payment terms are significantly more favorable than your other vendors, and the services they're providing aren't clearly defined."

I leaned over to look at the documents she'd flagged, our shoulders brushing briefly as I read the contract details. The contact sent an unexpected jolt of awareness through me-she smelled like vanilla and something floral, and I found myself noticing the curve of her neck where her hair was pulled back.

Focus, Gabe.

"Morrison Industries is a relatively new vendor," I said, forcing myself to concentrate on the business issue. "Marcus negotiated that contract-they're providing specialized consulting services for our international expansion."

"The invoicing is monthly but doesn't specify deliverables or measurable outcomes," Alexandra observed. "Is that typical for consulting contracts?"

It wasn't, and her question highlighted something that had bothered me when I'd first seen the Morrison Industries arrangement. Marcus had assured me it was standard for this type of strategic consulting, but Alexandra's analysis suggested otherwise.

"Good catch," I said. "Make a note to follow up with Marcus about the specific deliverables we're receiving from Morrison Industries."

As the evening wore on, Alexandra's systematic review of our vendor relationships revealed several other anomalies-payments that seemed disproportionate to services received, contract modifications that had been approved without my knowledge, invoicing patterns that didn't match standard business practices.

None of it was necessarily problematic, but the accumulation of irregularities was concerning. Either our financial oversight systems were inadequate, or someone was deliberately obscuring certain transactions.

"I'm impressed with your analytical skills," I told Alexandra as we finished organizing the last batch of contracts. "Most people would have processed these as routine paperwork, but you've identified patterns that deserve investigation."

Her smile was pleased but also somehow cautious. "My uncle taught me that financial documents tell stories if you know how to read them. Inconsistencies often reveal opportunities for improvement."

"Or evidence of problems that need addressing," I added.

"That too."

It was nearly ten o'clock when we finally finished. The building was quiet except for the overnight security staff and cleaning crews, giving our conversation an intimacy that felt both comfortable and dangerous.

"Thank you for staying late," I said as Alexandra gathered her things. "This kind of detailed analysis is exactly what I need to maintain oversight of our operations."

"I'm glad I could help." She paused at my office door. "Gabriel? The things we discussed tonight about vendor relationships and financial irregularities-do you want me to prepare a formal summary?"

The question revealed both her professionalism and her understanding that some conversations needed to be documented while others were better kept informal.

"Not yet," I decided. "Let's see what Marcus's explanations reveal before we create official documentation. Some of these issues might have simple explanations."

"Of course."

As we waited for the elevator, I found myself studying Alexandra's profile in the soft lighting of the hallway. She was beautiful, yes, but it was her intelligence and competence that I found most attractive. Working with someone who could match my own analytical intensity was professionally exciting in ways I hadn't experienced since Elena's early days.

But it was also personally dangerous. The attraction I felt toward Alexandra had nothing to do with our working relationship and everything to do with the woman herself-her quick mind, her thoughtful questions, the way she looked when she was concentrating on complex problems.

"Alexandra?" I said as the elevator arrived. "I want you to know that I appreciate your discretion about the issues we discussed tonight. Some of the irregularities you identified could be sensitive if they became public before we understand their context."

"I understand completely," she said. "Confidentiality is fundamental to my role."

As we descended toward the parking garage, I reflected on how much my opinion of Alexandra Sterling had evolved in just two days. She was more than qualified for the position-she was exactly the kind of strategic partner I needed to help manage the complexity of Verity Holdings' operations.

She was also becoming someone I looked forward to working with in ways that had nothing to do with professional necessity.

"Drive safely," I said as we reached our cars.

"You too. Thank you again for including me in today's facility visit. It really helped me understand the scope of the company's operations."

After she drove away, I sat in my car for several minutes thinking about the day's discoveries. Alexandra's observations had identified potential problems that I needed to investigate, but they'd also revealed capabilities that made her invaluable as my assistant.

The combination of intelligence, discretion, and analytical skill was rare in any profession. That Alexandra also happened to be beautiful and increasingly interesting as a person was a complication I needed to manage carefully.

As I drove home through the quiet city streets, I made a mental list of follow-up items from our evening's work. Conversations with Marcus about vendor relationships, review of contract approval processes, and deeper analysis of the financial patterns Alexandra had identified.

But beneath the business concerns was a growing awareness that working closely with Alexandra Sterling was affecting me in ways that had nothing to do with operational efficiency.

For the first time in years, I was genuinely excited about going to work each day. And despite all my careful risk management, that excitement had more to do with seeing Alexandra than with any business challenges we might tackle together.

Tomorrow would bring new opportunities to understand who she really was and whether the intelligence and competence she'd demonstrated were matched by the kind of integrity I required from people in my inner circle.

Either way, I was looking forward to finding out.