“I want this done cleanly. No blackmail, no skirting the law,” I said. “I don’t want a single illegal activity traced back to me.”
“If you insist.” Christian Harper’s smooth drawl flowed over the line. “I have to say, it’s been a while since I’ve dealt with someone who has such inflexible morals. It’s almost refreshing.”
Only Christian would utter the word morals with such potent disdain.
I leaned back in my chair and tapped my pen against the desk. I tried to keep my dealings with him to a minimum, but when it came to unearthing digital trails and digging up dirt, he was unmatched. He was the only one who could get me what I need before the CEO transition ceremony next week.
Snippets from my conversation with Tobias on Friday dug into my brain. He was initially reluctant to talk, but bitterness and resentment proved to be an effective tongue loosener. Within half an hour, he’d divulged the real reason behind his withdrawn candidacy—an envelope containing candid photos of his daughter taken over the course of two months and an anonymous note threatening to harm her if he didn’t drop out of the CEO race.
Bubbling fury scalded my veins, but I forced it aside so I could focus on the task at hand. I needed to plan my next steps carefully, or it would all fall apart.
“I need the evidence by close of business tomorrow,” I said. “Can you get it done?”
“Please. This job is child’s play.” Christian sounded bored. “I’ve already found what you need. It turns out your intrepid COO has been engaged in quite a robust program of corporate espionage and sabotage. He’d hired private investigators to follow key board members and senior executives for months. You might recognize some of the names. Tobias Foster, Laura Nguyen, Paxton James…Kai Young.”
“All the candidates for CEO,” I said flatly. “What a coincidence.”
I’d already suspected Russell after Victor’s slipup. His unlikely election aside, Victor had mentioned Russell’s name with a familiarity that went beyond the professional commiseration of people who’d both clawed their way to the top from modest beginnings. Russell’s role as COO also gave him access to virtually every aspect of the company, including classified personnel files, internal emails, and chat logs. Even private investigators couldn’t dig up some of that information.
That was a lot of leverage over voting members, a majority of whom wouldn’t have voted for him over me, Paxton, or Laura without heavy motivation.
However, I’d needed outside confirmation of my suspicions and the scope of his activities, both of which Christian just gave me.
“He was smart,” Christian said. “He included a fake tail on himself so his involvement wouldn’t be obvious if anyone discovered the spying, and he buried his payments beneath several shell accounts. It took me about an hour to unmask him. The details are in the vault, next to his communications with Victor and several board members.”
I opened the digital vault Christian had shared with me and skimmed through the files.
Blackmail. Coercion. Conspiracy. Russell had been a busy boy.
“I assume I’ll see some of these photos in the news soon?” Christian sounded like he couldn’t care less.
“Not until after the transition ceremony.” I stared at a photo of Victor and Russell meeting under a bridge. It was such a cliché shot I almost laughed. They could pass for actors in a low-rent police drama. “I wouldn’t want to preempt the in-person reveal.”
“Of course.” This time, a note of relish entered Christian’s voice. “Much more dramatic that way.”
We discussed a few remaining details before I hung up and logged out of the vault. My earlier fury abated, replaced with coolheaded clarity.
Asking Christian to prioritize my request would cost me in the future. His standard fee was exorbitant, but he traded in favors more than money.
I’d cross that bridge when I got there. Last week, I’d wallowed in the shock of my loss. This week, I had a purpose again: expose Russell and force a new CEO vote. According to company bylaws, if an incoming CEO was deemed unfit to serve before their official appointment, the voting committee had fourteen days to select a replacement.
Victor had been right about one thing. My hubris had cost me the leadership role the first time because I’d refused to ask for help; I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.
I picked up the phone again, a thrill of impending victory shooting through me. I had six days to pull my plan together, but the hard part was already done.
Now, it was time to get my family’s company back.
