So many what-ifs.
I should've left it alone, but the curiosity and desire to know was eating me up inside. I'd always wonder, always question what had really happened.
As soon as Macey's footsteps faded down the hall, I abandoned the invoices and navigated to the company financial records. I doubted there'd be anything there, but it was worth a look. At least I could say I'd tried to find something, that I hadn't just run away with my tail between my legs.
But what if they found out? What excuse would I use? Would they really care about what some little book keeper was doing? I was no real threat to them, right?
Using the date of my father's death as a starting point, I searched for any unusual transactions in the weeks before and after.
My fingers flew across the keyboard, my heart pounding so loudly I was certain anyone passing by would hear it. Most of the transactions seemed routine—payroll, supplies, equipment maintenance. But then something caught my eye.
Three large payments to a company called "Pristine Solutions" in the week following my father's death. The company was listed as a cleaning service, but the amounts were staggering—far more than would be reasonable for routine office cleaning.
I clicked through to the details, finding only minimal information. The payments had been authorized by Canzio Donati, Leo's father, with a notation of "special services" in the description field.
A chill ran down my spine. Special services. Cleaning up after my father's "accident"?
It could be nothing. A coincidence. But coupled with Trent's warnings and Ivy's information about the Malatesta family, it painted a disturbing picture.
I quickly took screenshots of the transactions, sending them to my personal email before closing the financial records and returning to the invoices I was supposed to be working on.
My hands trembled slightly as I typed. What was I going to do with this information? Going to the police seemed laughable—if the Donatis were truly connected to organized crime, they likely had officers on their payroll. And confronting Grayson or Meredith was out of the question.
Maybe it was better to just walk away, to focus on my mother and forget I'd ever heard the name Cassaro.
But at least I knew something. That it was likely his death was more than an accident. Not that it made me get any kind ofclosure. If anything, it made me want to dig deeper and find the full truth. To learn exactly what happened.
The sound of Macey's voice as she said goodbye to someone in the hall made me straighten in my chair. I typed quickly, putting as many numbers into the invoice spreadsheet as I could. I'd managed to fill out nearly all of it just as Macey rounded the corner.
"Meeting finished early," she said, settling back at her desk. "How are those invoices coming along?"
"Almost done," I replied, impressed by how steady my voice sounded despite the turmoil inside me. "Thought there was a discrepancy, so needed to double-check. I would've had it done already if not."
"Always best to verify and confirm. Can't be too certain," Macey said with an approving nod, and I forced a smile, hoping it appeared more genuine than it felt.
The last thirty minutes of the day passed in a blur of numbers and spreadsheets. I kept my head down, trying to appear focused and normal while my head and stomach were a constant mess. By the time five o'clock arrived, I'd made my decision. I would give my notice tomorrow instead of today, citing my mother's health as the reason. Today felt too risky, especially with my car situation. I needed to have a way home before I went burning bridges.
Then I'd put as much distance as possible between myself and the Donati family.
I gathered my things and headed for the elevator, my shoulders tight with tension. As promised, Jackson was waiting in the lobby, his tall frame leaning against the reception desk.
"Ready?" he asked, pushing away from the desk as I approached.
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"Your car's been towed to the company mechanic," he said as we walked to the parking garage. "They're looking at it now, but I'll take you home. It could take a few days, sometimes it can be done quicker if it's a small fix."
The thought of a repair bill made my stomach clench. "I can't afford a repair bill right now," I admitted.
"Don't worry about it," Jackson said, his tone casual as he led me to his sleek black car. "I'm happy to give you lifts for now. We'll deal with the bill when it comes, I'm sure the company can assist, since you need transport to get to and from work."
"I can't ask you to do that," I protested, although relief was swelling at the thought of not needing to pay the bill fully myself. Another good reason I'd not given my notice today then. Although, honestly, I wanted to put Donati Enterprises behind me completely and never come here again.
We couldn't always get what we wanted, especially without raising red flags. I needed to make my getaway clean, with no suspicion.
As long as they didn't know about the digging I did today.
He opened the passenger door for me, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I'm not doing it for you. I'm doing it for Macey. She'd never forgive me if I let her new favorite understudy get stranded."
