My business partner Maya ordered $4,850 worth of vintage cognac and Wagyu steaks at an exclusive Buckhead restaurant, fully expecting me to settle the syndicate front's tab like I always did.
Across the dining room, Kendra Washington stood up from table 12. She walked past the two state tax agents at table 14, giving them a subtle nod, a silent acknowledgement. Then, she walked straight toward our booth.
She was holding a red leather folder containing printed shipping manifests. The official seal of the Georgia Department of Transportation was visible on the corner of one page.
“Good evening, Maya,” Kendra said smoothly, pulling up a chair at the end of our table as if she had been invited.
Maya glared at her, her eyes darting between Kendra and the folder. “Who the hell are you? Shawn! Get security over here!”
Shawn, the maître d’, was already halfway across the room, heading toward the entrance.
“Shawn is currently busy talking to the Fulton County Marshal’s deputy at the front host stand,” Kendra replied, opening the folder with a soft rustle of papers. “My name is Kendra Washington, *Atlanta Daily Sentinel*.”
She paused, letting the name sink in.
“I was originally writing a story on municipal property tax kickbacks linked to City Council grants. But imagine my surprise when I found out that your uncle, Marcus DuBose, has been secretly rerouting Apex Logistics revenue into his own private real estate holding company.”
Maya froze, her eyes wide with disbelief. “Marcus wouldn’t do that. Apex belongs to my branch of the family. He always said he had my back.”
“Marcus has been stealing $40,000 a week from your personal haul distributions since last November,” Kendra said, sliding a ledger printout across the table. The numbers detailed transactions, dates, and destination accounts.
“It all went into his shell corporations,” Kendra added. “Darius didn’t hide your money, Maya. Your own uncle did.”
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