My Political Business Partner Cornered Me Outside Court While 7 Months Pregnant — He Didn't Realize His Security Chief Was Working For Me
The air in the underground garage was cool, faintly smelling of exhaust and damp concrete. I sat in silence for a moment, the weight of the fraudulent deed pressing on me.
“Gavin,” I began, looking at him across the SUV’s console. “Why are you doing this? You’re Marcus’s head of security. This puts everything you’ve built at risk.”
He turned to face me fully, his expression unreadable. For a long moment, he said nothing.
Then, he leaned back against the headrest, a sigh escaping his lips. “Three years ago, my younger brother, Thomas, was a junior accountant on Hollister’s first state campaign.”
My eyebrows lifted. This was unexpected.
“Thomas was a good kid,” Gavin continued, his voice tight with a suppressed anger. “Straight out of college. Believed in the system.”
He paused, collecting his thoughts. “He stumbled onto something. Shell accounts, funds being siphoned off, funneled into a ‘political slush fund’ that only seemed to benefit Marcus’s inner circle.”
A familiar pattern. Marcus’s greed knew no bounds.
“Thomas tried to blow the whistle internally,” Gavin said, a bitter edge to his tone. “He trusted the wrong people.”
My gaze remained fixed on him, waiting for the inevitable.
“Marcus found out,” Gavin finished, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous growl. “He framed Thomas. Made it look like *Thomas* was the one embezzling. Planted evidence, forged records.”
The words hung in the air, heavy with injustice.
“Thomas spent six months fighting it,” Gavin said, his eyes now glinting with a cold, fierce resolve. “Lost his job, his reputation. The stress nearly broke him. Our family… it was devastating.”
“Marcus buried it,” I murmured, recalling whispers of minor campaign finance scandals years ago that never quite stuck to Hollister. “Made it go away.”
“He did,” Gavin confirmed. “And he offered me this job. Head of security. A generous salary. A way to ‘put it behind us,’ he said.”
He ran a hand over his face. “I took it. Not for the money, or to forget. To get close. To wait.”
His eyes met mine. “My brother was ruined. I swore Marcus would pay. And I figured, one day, he’d be careless enough, greedy enough, to give me the opening.”
The implication was clear. I was that opening. My “vulnerability” had drawn Marcus out into the open, making him arrogant and reckless.
“Raymond Finch was involved back then too, wasn’t he?” I asked, a new layer of understanding settling over me. “He was the one who set up the shell accounts.”
Gavin nodded, a grim satisfaction playing on his lips. “Finch was Marcus’s point man for everything illegal. Thomas knew too much about Finch’s ledgers.”
The silent debt, the patient wait for retribution. Gavin Drake wasn’t just my ally; he was a silent, lethal weapon against Marcus. And now, we were bound by a shared enemy.
The thought sent a shiver down my spine, a strange mix of fear and cold determination. Marcus Hollister had created his own downfall by burning too many bridges.
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