Chapter 4

Ian's sudden intrusion made the air in the study freeze instantly.

He was tall and his broad shoulders almost blocked the light from the doorway.

He didn't look at the glass of cold milk on the coffee table, but walked straight to my desk.

His eyes fell on the scratch paper spread across my desk and the dense shipping details on the computer screen.

"What are you checking?" His voice was low, with an undeniable sense of oppression.

I quickly turned over the scratch paper, trying to cover up the data I was deducing.

"Some daily account checking." I replied calmly, "Mr. Vale, it's one o'clock in the morning. You coming in without knocking on the door doesn't seem to be in compliance with the 'non-interference' clause in our contract."

He sneered and ignored my protest.

He suddenly leaned down, put his hands on the edge of the desk, and approached me aggressively with his tall body.

The distance was so close that I could even feel the warm air from his breath.

I subconsciously leaned back in my chair.

He reached out his hand and unceremoniously pulled out the scratch paper I had just turned over.

He glanced at the slightly fluctuating numbers I circled above and the final summary of "1.2 million."

His eyes instantly became dark, like a bottomless pool of black water.

"East Bay Logistics?" He read the name, and there was no emotion or anger in his tone.

"Yes." Now that I had been discovered, I simply stopped hiding it. "There are traces of man-made manipulation in the transportation costs of this dedicated line. In three years, someone used this subtle adjustment to siphon 1.2 million from the company's account."

I looked into his eyes, trying to catch something in his reaction.

anger?

shock?

Or the embarrassment and anger after being exposed?

None.

He just looked at the piece of paper calmly, as if what I said was just a trivial matter.

"Do you understand the unspoken rules of the logistics industry?" He suddenly spoke, with a hint of mockery in his tone.

"I don't understand the hidden rules." I met his gaze without giving in. "I only understand mathematics. Mathematics doesn't lie. This money is flat on the books, but in fact it is lost profits."

He straightened up and looked at me condescendingly.

"Nora, do you know some accounts are not meant to be examined too closely?" His voice carried a warning. "When the water is too clear, there are no fish. Did your father never teach you that?"

When I mentioned my father, the fire in my heart suddenly started to burn.

"My father taught me that books are like people. One wrong entry can hide a hole no one can fill." My voice was cold. "If you think I am overstepping, you can fire me right now. But while I am in this position, I will not pretend I cannot see a parasite this blatant."

The study fell into a deathly silence.

We were like two beasts confronting each other, neither of us willing to look away first.

I thought he was going to get mad and tear up the scrap paper and smash it in my face.

But he didn't.

He suddenly smiled.

It was an extremely dangerous, predatory smile.

"Okay." He slapped the scrap paper on the table, "Since you have such a professional ethics, I will give you this opportunity."

He leaned down, put his hands on the table again, and locked his eyes with me.

"Keep checking."

"Dig out all the interest chains, capital flows, and handlers behind this line."

"I want to see a complete investigation report at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

I was stunned.

Not only did he not stop me, but he asked me to investigate thoroughly?

"What?" He raised his eyebrows, "Didn't you speak righteously just now? Now you don't dare?"

"There's nothing to be afraid of." I immediately replied, "As long as you don't regret it."

"I, Ian Vale, don't have the word regret in my dictionary."

He straightened up, turned and walked towards the door.

When he reached the door, he stopped and looked back at the coffee table.

"Drink that glass of milk."

This is an order.

After saying that, he left the study without looking back.

The door is closed.

My tense nerves finally relaxed, and a layer of cold sweat broke out on my back.

This man is too dangerous and too difficult to see through.

He clearly knew that East Bay Logistics had a problem, why didn't he deal with it?

Why wait for me to lift the lid?

I don't have time to think too much.

It's less than seven hours until eight in the morning.

I picked up the glass of cold milk and drank it in one gulp.

The cold liquid slid down my throat and into my stomach, clearing up my chaotic brain.

I sat back in front of the computer and tapped my fingers quickly on the keyboard.

I want to follow this line and drag out the big rat hiding in the dark.

I pulled up all the financial data of East Bay Logistics and started cross-referencing it.

I reviewed every payment receipt and checked every collection account.

As the investigation deepens, a secret financial chain gradually emerges.

The money that was withdrawn did not go directly into the individual's pockets, but was carried out through a series of complex money laundering operations through several seemingly unrelated shell companies.

In the end, all the money flowed into an offshore account called "Kingsley Capital."

The actual controller of Kingsley Capital is a man named "Victor Kingsley".

Victor Kingsley.

I did not see this name in the list of Vale Holdings executives.

who is he?

Time passes minute by minute.

The night outside the window gradually faded, and a fish-belly white color appeared in the east.

I rubbed my sore eyes, organized the last piece of evidence, saved it, and printed it.

7:50 in the morning.

I took a thick investigation report and walked out of the study.

This night of fighting made me feel exhausted, but more importantly, I felt the pleasure of uprooting the cancer.

I want to see what else Ian will say in the face of this irrefutable evidence.