Chapter 4 : Death to the Scheme

*Kade’s POV*

Kade Sinclair had all his attention focused on the documents Raven Cannon had brought to him. He read them twice, three times, and then a fourth until every detail was committed to memory.

At last, he set the folder down and breathed out a long, settling sigh to bring his mind back into focus.

There was no doubt Raven was absolutely correct. In a single workday, she had uncovered a patient but clumsy scheme that was operating under his nose — in one of his major subsidiary companies — for at least two years.

It may have taken that long for the pattern of transactions to become apparent enough to be caught. Maybe. But he didn’t have that kind of leniency, not with himself or anyone else. This was a breach of his defenses, and it was unforgivable.

At the end of Raven’s notes was a list of suspects—not that she called them suspects, per se. They were the operators within the company who COULD have authorized and orchestrated the transactions at such a high level. Her notes were, as ever, extremely thorough. Her own suspicions — gut-level instincts, really — were noted beside each of the names.

One stood head and shoulders guiltier than all the rest, in Raven’s opinion. Kade wholeheartedly agreed with her.

He pressed the intercom button, paging Megan at her secretary's desk outside his office. She appeared at the door an instant later.

“Megan,” Kade began. “Please arrange a private meeting with Todd Richardson, the CFO of Ductara. Tonight.”

“Shall I send a car for him, sir?”

No hesitation, no confusion. Megan was a treasure of a secretary. She knew what “private meeting” was coded for.

“Yes. A very nice car.” Kade completed the coded communication with complete stoicism. “I’ll follow separately.”

She nodded. “Very good, sir.”

After she closed the door behind her, Kade carefully arranged and labeled Raven’s notes, slipping them into a fingerprint-locked drawer in his desk. In his mind, he was already making calculations about her: his newest asset. His newest weapon. And he knew she’d be great.

***

Kade told his driver to take turns down to the bottom floor of the empty underground parking garage very slowly. Ostensibly, this was to avoid scratching the limo on the tight turns, but really, it was for dramatic effect. Kade wanted Todd Richardson to hear him coming.

He stepped out of the limo in the deep, expansive gloom of the garage’s deepest level. It was entirely empty of cars — which wasn’t a surprise. Sinclair and Associates owned this property through a series of shell companies and subsidiaries, and Kade ensured it stayed empty.

In the center of the space, flanked by Kade’s muscled goons who had brought him there in a “very nice car,” was Todd Richardson. He was tied to a chair by his ankles and wrists. And he was, as intended, absolutely petrified.

“He’s already confessed, I assume?” Kade ignored Richardson, addressing his loyal muscle.

“Repeatedly,” replied the goon. They knew how Kade liked his information: short and sweet and unequivocal.

Kade turned his gaze toward Richardson. He was a small man dressed for a night out at a fine dining restaurant. His weak chin was trembling.

Pathetic.

“You’re a criminal, Mr. Richardson. I know that you’ve been spearheading a money laundering operation within your company. The company, I remind you, that Sinclair and Associates holds a controlling interest in. I know all of that.”

“Please, please, Mr. Sinclair, this isn’t necessary! This really isn’t—“

“I only need you to answer one question for me, Mr. Richardson.” Kade kept his tone patient and unhurried. “Whose money were you cleaning? Who did you betray me for?”

“It wasn’t a betrayal of you, Mr. Sinclair, I swear! I just saw an opportunity, and I took it, I swear—“

Kade sighed. “You are boring me, Mr. Sinclair. Answer the question.”

“It’s—it’s the Oriri Corporation.”

Kade tried to keep his face blank. He really tried. Emotions could usually never touch him — anything beyond contempt, that was. But this was the very last name he had expected to come out of Richardson’s mouth, and he was feeling real, genuine anger at this moment.

Anger at Richardson for being such an incomparable fool, and anger at himself for allowing this to go on unchecked.

“You mean to tell me,” Kade hissed, leaning close, “that you have been laundering money for my company’s closest competitor? My god, Richardson. That is beyond the pale, even for what I expected of your stupidity.”

Oriri was a rival holding company controlled by a longtime enemy of Kade’s family. Their CEO, Christina Lu, ran Oriri alongside her brothers, Charles and Garth. They had been snapping at Sinclair and Associate’s heels for years, ever since Kade’s father was in charge of the corporation.

Oriri would rush in and buy a controlling share of a promising subsidiary they knew Sinclair and Associates were planning to acquire. Through a series of spies and corporate espionage, they had been a thorn in Sinclair and Associates’ side for a long, long time, and Kade suspected the Lu family of much more than simple espionage. But that was not for Richardson to know. That was personal to Kade. Very, very personal.

But what could Oriri’s goal be in using a Sinclair subsidiary to channel their dirty money? It was a simple enough maneuver, but if even a fool like Richardson knew it was Oriri money, then there was no way they could avoid implications if this whole scheme came to light.

So what was their game?

Kade thought he knew. This money laundering scheme was meant to be discovered — not by a federal auditor or legal authority, just by him. It was a slap in the face, pure and simple. A taunt that he didn’t have his company’s holdings under control. That he was weak.

Weak, though, was the last thing anyone could accuse Kade Sinclair of being.

“I’m sorry!” Richardson’s voice was a high whine now, tight with fear. “I just — my kids are in college, and the financial aid isn’t very good, and all these loans — I just couldn’t keep up. But I couldn’t take this away from my kids, you know?”

“No,” said Kade coldly. “I don’t know. And I don’t care.”

No wonder Oriri had targeted Richardson. He was too easy a mark: a desperate man with obvious financial woes. They’d offered him a way out of trouble, and he jumped at the bait.

“What were your instructions? Precisely, now. Tell me what they told you.”

“They — well, it was just one point of contact. It was Garth Lu.”

This just kept getting worse. The Lus had orchestrated this personally. This was just salt in the wound.

“Tell me,” Kade growled.

“He’d only communicate verbally, no phone lines or text. Nothing traceable. He — well, he just needed money moved. A lot of money. And he said that he’d been following my career, that he trusted in my abilities and my discretion.”

“So he flattered you, and you bought it. Idiotic. It’s hard to find an older trick to fall for.”

The trembling was growing even more violent now. Richardson could smell the danger, maybe. Or maybe he was just this much of a coward.

“Listen, please, listen! I can give you everything, all the numbers, the accounts, the — everything! I swear I won’t hold anything back, I swear—”

“Do you know what your mistake was?” Kade said stonily, cutting off the babble.

“I know what I did was wrong! I was wrong, I got greedy, I’ll never do anything like that ever again—”

“No.” Kade felt the ice in his voice, the obvious contempt he didn’t bother to try to hide. “Your mistake was your carelessness. You got caught. But more than that — your mistake was not recognizing your betters. You were chasing the money, but there’s a hierarchy. An inviolable order. You should have been chasing that money for me. Me. Do you understand? Now, instead of an asset, you’re a sloppy liability. The difference between those two conditions is loyalty. Pure and simple.”

He waited, watching the terror tremble through the other man’s body. He was falling to pieces so easily. Kade was disgusted.

“I didn’t have to take time out of my schedule to teach you this lesson.” Kade kept his voice very, very low. “You think we don’t launder money within the subsidiaries I control? Of fucking course we do. If my money were squeaky clean, I’d have a sliver of my empire now.”

The man stared at him, taken aback, the horror now mixed with confusion. This poor fool. He’d never understand, Kade thought. Richardson would go to his grave, not understanding. Kade wished he could bring himself to think of it as a waste.

“How did—” Richardson was crying now, his eyes pleading. “How did you find out? Who told you?”

“You were clumsy, Richardson. You could have disguised the pattern of purchases and losses, but you didn’t. You just let it all slip out into the public record.”

Kade paused, considering his next words. Not that it mattered what Richardson heard at this point.

“I have an actual asset in my company, Richardson. A woman who uncovered your little scheme in about two hours from public filings. It astonishes me that you aren’t already in prison with your incompetence.”

In reality, he knew that it was Raven’s level of aptitude that had drawn the links together.

Richardson was making an effort to gulp back the tears now. This sad little man tried to put on a brave face after all this.

“Mr. Sinclair, this isn’t necessary. I’m on your side. We’re both civilized men, after all. Let’s discuss this. Let me help you.”

“Help me?” Kade had to keep himself from letting his astonishment show. How could this man be so dense? “Civilized men? What movie did you pull that line from?”

“Mr. Sinclair—”

“Here’s what you don’t understand, Mr. Richardson. You are a gnat, buzzing around sweet treats, but you have no control or resilience. You can’t even understand the rules. So no, Mr. Richardson: we are not both ‘civilized men.’ You are barely a man.”

“Be reasonable—”

“This is reasonable, Mr. Richardson. This is how the world works. You just aren’t a part of this world. And you never will be.”

This was just the truth. This was how business happened. Real business — not what showed on the surface. Sure, he knew there were many other men at his level of power who wouldn’t deign to be here in a situation like this. To be getting their hands dirty, even by proximity. They hired out the dirty work, looking the other way.

But Kade Sinclair never took his eye off the target, and he never surrendered control. The more delicate, the more dangerous, the more difficult an operation, the closer he was to the action. That’s how you kept a firm grip on what you built. That’s how you succeeded. Power was not a thing you could deputize out. Power didn’t work like that. Power was lives and livelihoods in your hands.

He knew he was not a good man. He had never aspired or pretended to be. He was what he was: an apex predator.

“What can I do?” Richardson’s voice was so shaky he was barely intelligible. “How can I make it up to you? I’ll do anything.”

“What can you do? You can repent. And you will.” Kade delivered the verdict with absolute, flat clarity. “You will commit suicide tonight, Mr. Richardson. In a moment, my associates will shoot you and stage the scene.”

All the blood drained from the man’s tear-soaked face. He knew Kade wasn’t joking.

“My people have placed files on your computer and backdated the metadata over the last several months. Drafts of your suicide note, including your confession, will be left behind. There will be no questions. Open and shut, as it were. Goodbye, Mr. Richardson.”

And with that, Kade turned away and started to climb into his car. The goons waited to fire until he’d shut his limo door behind him, and the sound of Richardson’s body hitting the floor was like music to his ears.