Page 22 of Mafia Obsession

My heart sinks so sharply it feels like a weight dragging through my chest cavity and down into my stomach. “When?” I manage.

“Now,” Marisol replies. “Can’t you tell? Someone’s coming at the end of the day to move all our desks and files. The IT guy already shut down the network. It’s crazy, right? Just like that.”

Just like that.

The phrase echoes unpleasantly in my mind.

Nathan’s assistant sits at her desk outside his office, a headset pressed to her ear. She soundslike she’s giving directions to movers.

The floor goes wobbly under my feet. I set the coffees down blindly on the nearest flat surface, my hands shaking too violently to hold them for another second. Marisol no longer looks interested in the pricey latte I walked four blocks to get because it was my turn.

This can’t be happening. Not now.

I turn and stalk toward Nathan’s office, my legs stiff, my breath shallow.

“Nathan… We’re moving?” I ask and fall into the chair across from him.

A scent lingers in the air. Familiar. Expensive. It teases at the edge of my memory, but I can’t place it.

“Lourdes,” Nathan says with a near-apologetic tone. “Ah, I see you heard.”

“Yeah. But I can’t go. I can’t move,” I say, the words tumbling out before I can craft them into something less pathetic.

Nathan exhales, leaning back in his chair. “I would hate to lose you,” he replies, and I believe him. “You’re my best overseas admin.”

Guilt churns my stomach. I took advantage of his trust.

“I have stipends for everyone to relocate,” he adds, sitting forward again and going through papers. “Travel, temporary housing. The new owner is covering everything.”

I wonder who the new owner is, but it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t change anything for me.

“I just can’t,” I repeat, softer now.

“Then I’ll need your laptop,” Nathan says after studying me, like he was trying to get what’s behind my refusal. “IT has to migrate all our data to new servers tonight.”

My entire body goes cold.

“My laptop?” I echo.

“Yes. We’re transferring the whole operation immediately.”

Everything is on that lousy device.

Not hidden amateurishly in files labeled with indiscriminate names. I created complicated-looking spreadsheets embedded in layers of encryption with hidden links leading to the shellaccount. To the thirty thousand dollars waiting for me when I’m ready to help Sandrine.

I didn’t back up the hard drive. There was nothing to back it up to. And I didn’t write down the account number. I was too afraid David would find it and demand an explanation.

Or worse! Take the money for himself.

“Can I work remotely for a week?” I ask, forcing my voice to remain level. “Or until I find something else?”

“No.” Nathan shakes his head. “I agreed to move everyone immediately. We’ve already pulled down the network.”

The network is already down.

I have no way to access my money.

“We’ll be up and running in New Jersey in a few days.” Nathan stands and starts packing up his desk.