Page 14 of Money Reigns
Eventually, I hear him exhale and step back.
“I’ll get those zoning files updated,” he mutters, heading for the door.
I don’t respond.
The door clicks shut behind him, and silence fills the room.
I turn back toward my desk, set the coffee down, and wake the screen with a flick of my wrist. Still logged in.
Good.
I open the surveillance system.
Pull up the building feed.
Click the tab labeled 18–Executive East.Wesley’s floor.
Password required.
Of course.
I smirk, cold and humorless.
Wesley locked me out of live access to his floor’s cameras months ago after Iaccidentallycaught footage of his last assistantdoing unsanctioned yoga stretches between filing cabinets. He called it invasive. I called it preventive liability.
Now I call it inconvenient.
I could try and override it.
But not without leaving a trail.
And I don’t need Wesley at my office door.
So instead, I lean back, crack my neck, and open Broderick’s employee file. He’s been with me long enough.
Quick search. Directory. Address.
Gotcha.
Broderick’s apartment is in the West Tower, Unit 5C.
I don’t own the building, but I’ve done business with the property management group before. One call, one favor, and I can see what I need to.
But I don’t call.
Instead, I pull up the shared backend portal for local holdings, one of those convenient city-wide real estate integrations my company helped fund back when no one thought to ask why we wanted access.
I click over to tenant data. It’s protected,technically.
But not from me.
Olivia Baker. Unit 5B.
Next door.
Just like he said.
I stare at the screen for a long beat, fingers hovering over the keyboard.
