Chapter 6 - The Paper TrailThe silence in the foyer was absolute.
I looked at the highlighted rows on Arthur’s spreadsheet. $482,000. It wasn't a minor discrepancy, nor was it a simple case of pocketing loose change. It was a calculated, systematic siphoning of capital from my algorithmic trading firm's secondary buffer account—an account I rarely monitored manually because it was designed to handle routine, automated liquidity checks.
I looked up at Nicole. She was leaning against the staircase handrail, her knees shaking so violently she had to hold onto the mahogany balustrade with both hands.
"You had my credentials," I said, my voice dropping into a register so quiet it sounded like ice cracking under pressure. "The secondary account... I logged into it from the study computer fourteen months ago when I was setting up the house guest network."
Nicole didn't answer. She couldn't. Her lips were trembling, her jaw working uselessly as if she had forgotten how to form words.
"She didn't steal anything!" Diane blurted out, her voice rising to a shrill, desperate pitch as she stepped between me and her daughter. "It was family money! Daniel gave her access! Daniel told her she could use that account for her expenses!"
Arthur Vance didn't even blink. He reached into his leather folder and pulled out a single sheet of paper, laying it flat on the table.
"Mr. Daniel Bennett is not an authorized signatory on Bennett Algorithmic Capital's operational buffer," Arthur stated calmly. "Even if he had given verbal permission, he had no legal authority to do so. Furthermore, the IP addresses used to execute these transfers originate from mobile devices registered directly to Miss Nicole Miller."
I looked at Diane. "Did you know?"
Diane's eyes darted toward the front door, where two armed security guards stood like statues blocking the exit. "Lauren... listen to me. We are family. You can't involve the police over money! You have millions! What is four hundred thousand dollars to you?!"
"It’s four hundred and eighty-two thousand," I corrected flatly. "And it isn't about the amount, Diane. It's about grand larceny."
"Arthur," I said, turning to my security chief. "Call the Financial Crimes Division of the Chicago Police Department. Tell Detective Mercer that I am filing a formal complaint for wire fraud, identity theft, and grand embezzlement."
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Nicole let out a strangled shriek and dropped to her knees on the marble floor. "No! Lauren, please! Don't call the police! I'll pay it back! I swear I'll pay it all back!"
"With what?" I asked, looking down at her. "Your counterfeit bags? Your Miami yacht deposit?"
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