Chapter 3 - The Audit of Jared Miller
Dawn broke over the Russo estate, washing the manicured lawns and towering oak trees in a pale, silvery light. The storm had passed, leaving behind wet gravel and a crisp, morning breeze.
In the subterranean security wing of the mansion, illuminated by banks of monitors and blue-lit server racks, Noah sat with a sleek tablet in his hand. Across from him stood two men in sharp suits—operatives who specialized in digital tracking and financial tracing.
"Find him," Noah ordered quietly, tapping the glass of the screen.
The image on the tablet displayed a grainy social media profile of a smug-looking man in his late twenties, leaning against a rented sports car.
Jared Miller.
"He's operating out of a second-rate brokerage downtown," one of the operatives replied. "He uses high-interest predatory lenders to trap people, then takes a cut of the default fees. He thinks he's untouchable because he pays off a couple of corrupt city cops."
Noah smirked, a cold, humorless expression.
"Cops belong to the city. This city belongs to Dominic. Pull his financial records, locate every contract he forged under Clara's name, and bring him to the warehouse on 4th Street by noon. The boss wants a word."
Within two hours, the digital net closed tightly around Jared Miller. By mid-morning, the operatives didn't just have his records; they had him.
Upstairs, Clara was handed a fresh set of clothes—standard professional maid attire, tailored to fit her perfectly. Mrs. Gable looked at her with a new, cautious respect. The word had filtered down through the staff: the boss had intervened personally. In the Russo household, that meant Clara was untouchable.
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"Mr. Russo wants to see you in his study," Mrs. Gable said stiffly, handing her a cup of black coffee. "Finish this first. He doesn't like waiting, but he likes jittery people even less."
Clara took the cup, her hands steadying. She knew the moment of reckoning had arrived.
