Chapter 2 - THE DOSSIER
By 2:00 AM, Daniel sat behind a massive mahogany desk on the top floor of the Cross Syndicate headquarters in downtown Chicago.
Rain lashed against the floor-to-ceiling windows, reflecting the neon glow of the city below.
A thin man in a grey suit, Julian, set a dark manila folder on the desk.
"You asked for an immediate background check on Maya Lin," Julian said, his voice flat and analytical. "It wasn't easy. Her digital footprint was practically scrubbed six months ago."
Daniel didn't open the folder immediately. He leaned back in his leather chair, swirling two fingers of scotch in a crystal glass. "Scrubbed by whom?"
"That's the interesting part," Julian replied. "It wasn't done by a street-level hacker. It was done using high-grade federal encryption protocols. The kind used by corporate whistleblowers or high-value witnesses."
Daniel's eyes narrowed. He opened the folder.
A photograph stared back at him. Maya—not in her stained Belladonna waitress apron, but wearing a sharp navy suit, holding a framed degree from Columbia University.
"Her real name is Dr. Maya Lin-Vance," Julian explained. "Twenty-six years old. Former chief data analyst for Vanguard Bio-Tech—a multi-billion-dollar pharmaceutical firm based in Illinois."
Daniel scanned the text line by line. "Why is a senior bio-tech researcher serving pasta for nine dollars and fifty cents an hour?"
"Because seven months ago, Vanguard Bio-Tech's founder, Arthur Vance, died in a private plane crash," Julian said. "Vance was Maya's adopted father. Two days after his death, a massive internal audit claimed fifteen million dollars in research capital had been stolen from the firm's offshore accounts."
"And they blamed her?"
"They tried to," Julian nodded. "The new board of directors, led by a CEO named Gregory Vance—Arthur's brother—filed criminal charges. But before the federal marshals could arrest her, Maya disappeared. She dropped her phone into the Chicago River, abandoned her apartment, took a burner phone, and started working cash-in-hand service jobs."
Daniel stared at the photograph. He remembered her hands shaking as she picked up the broken glass. He remembered her bloody finger, and the quiet, immovable steel in her eyes when she told Victor Hale to back off.
"She isn't hiding from the federal marshals," Daniel said softly, the pieces clicking together in his mind. "If she were hiding from the law, she would have fled the state. She's staying in Chicago."
"Why?" Julian asked.
"Because the person who set her up is in Chicago," Daniel said, closing the folder with a sharp thud. "And she's trying to find something to prove her innocence."
Julian took a breath. "Boss, Victor Hale called three times tonight. He's furious about what happened at Belladonna. He claims you humiliated him in front of his associates over a nobody."
Daniel looked up, his dark eyes colder than the storm outside. "Victor Hale is a glorified money-launderer who thinks a five-thousand-dollar suit gives him the right to touch women without permission. Tell him if he calls again, I won't just ignore his calls—I'll take his licenses."
May you like
Julian bowed his head. "Understood. But what about the girl?"
Daniel stood up, buttoning his jacket. "Find out where she lives. Send a unit to watch her apartment. Discreetly. If Vanguard Bio-Tech realizes where she is, they won't send lawyers, Julian. They'll send clean-up men."
