Karis Ashby

~> Then Andrew looks down at the documents. Finally, he picks one up and runs it. He does the same with the other two and I watch the exact moment denial begins losing its grip. His shoulders change and his jaw hardens. Then he reaches the final page. "𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠?” "From what I've confirmed? Months." His gaze lifts. "𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐡𝐬?” "Yes." "𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡?” I tell him and Andrew becomes very still. That's when he's most dangerous. He's not yelling. He’s not throwing things. He's frighteningly still. "𝐃𝐨 𝐕𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐚 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰?” "No." His eyes narrow. "Nobody knows except you and me." "𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐲.” "I planned to." Andrew looks toward the monitor again. "𝐌𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫.” "I know." "𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞..” "Stop." He looks at me. "Don't do that to yourself." His brow furrows. "Vivian and Safira disliking her doesn't automatically mean they knew this was happening. Maybe they saw something in her you didn't. Maybe they just hated her. Those are two different things." Andrew says nothing. "And I'm not telling you your daughters were right." I point toward the screen. "That is telling you something is wrong." His eyes return to the evidence. Numbers. Cold. Emotionless. Merciless. That's what I love about them. Numbers don't care who you're sleeping with. Who you're marrying. Who your children hate. Who you trust. They don't care about promises whispered in bedrooms or diamonds sitting on somebody's finger. People lie. Numbers don't. Not if you know how to make them confess. Andrew lowers himself back into the chair. For the first time since I've known him, he looks less like the head of an empire and more like a man realizing someone got closer than they should have. I soften… Barely. "Andrew." His gaze lifts. "I'm sorry." He studies me. "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞.” "Don't make me regret trying it." A faint breath leaves him. It almost sounds like a laugh. Then his expression hardens again. "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐰?” I cross my arms. "Now?" [ I glance toward the mountain of evidence scattered across my desk. ] "Now we don't let her know we know." Andrew's eyes sharpen. "𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧.” "If she's been doing this for months, suddenly locking everything down tells her she's been discovered." "𝐒𝐨?” "So I want to know what she's actually doing." His expression changes. Andrew Marx is returning. "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝?” [ I smile. ] That question right there. That's why he trusts me. Not are you sure? Not should I have someone check your work? What do you need? Because once Andrew has seen the evidence, he trusts the woman he put in charge of protecting his money. "Access." "𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭.” "All of it." A pause. Then Andrew nods. "𝐃𝐨𝐧𝐞.” "No interference." "𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬.” "All. Of. It." His jaw tightens. "If she moves another dollar, I want to see where it goes before anyone touches her." "𝐅𝐢𝐧𝐞.” "And Andrew." "𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭?” "You're still buying me dinner." He stares at me in disbelief. I gesture toward the evidence. "I was right." "𝐌𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐜é𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫?” "I worked nineteen hours." "𝐔𝐧𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞.” "Steak." "𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬.” "Expensive steak." Andrew pinches the bridge of his nose. And for the first time all night, I smile. Because tomorrow the personal shit can hurt. Tonight we have work to do. ~>