Chapter 3: Alex Discovered Mark Was Never Just Jenna’s Coworker
Chapter 3: Alex Discovered Mark Was Never Just Jenna’s Coworker
I read the message from my attorney three times.
Mark isn’t just her coworker.
I looked across the kitchen.
Jenna was still smiling.
She had no idea that the conversation between us had already changed.
“What did you just say?” she asked.
“Nothing.”
I locked my phone.
Her eyes narrowed.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re thinking about something.”
I gave her a tired smile.
“I am.”
“What?”
“How much I don’t know about you.”
Her expression changed for half a second.
Then she recovered.
“You’re overthinking this.”
“Probably.”
I stood.
“I need some air.”
“Alex.”
I stopped.
She walked toward me.
“Are you leaving?”
“Not tonight.”
“Then where are you going?”
“Driving.”
“Where?”
I looked at her.
“I don’t know yet.”
She seemed uncomfortable with that answer.
Maybe because she had gotten used to knowing exactly where I was.
I grabbed my keys.
“Don’t wait up.”
Her voice followed me to the door.
“You’re not going to do anything stupid, right?”
I turned around.
“No.”
She nodded.
“Good.”
I left.
The moment I reached the parking lot, my phone rang.
My attorney.
Daniel Reeves.
I answered.
“What’s going on?”
“You’re alone?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Listen carefully.”
His voice was unusually serious.
“I ran the name Mark Holloway through the corporate records you asked me to review.”
I pulled out of the parking lot.
“And?”
“He isn’t employed by Jenna’s company.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“He’s listed as a consultant.”
“That isn’t the same thing?”
“No. His consulting company is registered to an address in Dublin, Ohio.”
“So?”
“So the registered owner of that company is another company.”
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“Which company?”
Daniel paused.
“Carter Strategic Holdings.”
I nearly stopped the car.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
“That’s impossible.”
“I thought so too.”
“My company has nothing to do with them.”
“Your company doesn’t.”
He lowered his voice.
“But the ownership trail gets complicated.”
I pulled into an empty gas station and parked.
“Tell me everything.”
“Three months ago, someone started purchasing small positions in companies connected to regional logistics.”
“Who?”
“We don’t know.”
“Then find out.”
“We’re trying.”
“Daniel.”
“I know.”
He sighed.
“There’s more.”
I waited.
“Jenna has been listed as an authorized contact for one of those investment accounts.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“Three months ago.”
Exactly when Mark had appeared.
I stared through the windshield.
“Are you saying Jenna has been involved in this?”
“I’m saying her name appears in documents she shouldn’t have access to.”
“Could someone have used her identity?”
“Yes.”
“But you don’t think that’s what happened.”
“No.”
Silence.
Then I asked the question I didn’t want answered.
“Does Mark have access to my company?”
“Not directly.”
“Indirectly?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He was involved with a vendor negotiation six months ago.”
I frowned.
“I don’t remember him.”
“You wouldn’t. He wasn’t representing himself.”
“Who was he representing?”
“An investment group.”
“What investment group?”
Daniel gave me the name.
Northstar Meridian.
I’d never heard of it.
But I recognized the pattern.
I’d seen the name once before.
On an email forwarded to me by one of my former partners.
An email I’d dismissed because it looked like another investment pitch.
“Daniel.”
“Yes?”
“Who owns Northstar Meridian?”
“We’re still trying to determine that.”
I looked at the clock.
12:31 a.m.
“Can you send me everything?”
“I already did.”
My phone buzzed.
A document arrived.
I opened it.
The first page showed Northstar Meridian’s registration.
The second showed several subsidiaries.
The third listed investment interests.
I scrolled.
Then stopped.
My company was there.
Not as an owner.
As a target.
Someone had been acquiring companies that competed with us.
Small companies.
Regional companies.
Businesses that had struggled during the previous year.
One by one.
And Northstar Meridian had quietly purchased positions in them.
I whispered,
“They’re consolidating the market.”
Daniel answered,
“That’s what it looks like.”
I scrolled farther.
Then I saw another name.
Jenna Miller.
I stared at it.
She wasn’t listed as an owner.
She was listed as a beneficial contact.
I called Daniel again.
“What’s a beneficial contact?”
“It means she’s the person authorized to communicate about the account.”
“So she knew.”
“Possibly.”
I ended the call.
For several minutes, I just sat there.
Then I opened my messages.
There was one from Jenna.
Are you coming home?
I didn’t answer.
Another arrived.
Alex?
Then:
Please don’t disappear tonight.
I almost laughed.
She had spent three months disappearing from me.
Now one night was enough to make her nervous.
I started the car.
Instead of going home, I drove to the office.
The building was dark.
I unlocked the side entrance and went upstairs.
My company had grown enough that I had stopped working from my desk every night.
But my office still contained years of records.
Contracts.
Old investor presentations.
Vendor agreements.
Documents I’d forgotten existed.
I turned on the light.
Then opened the oldest filing cabinet.
I searched for Northstar.
Nothing.
I searched for Mark Holloway.
Nothing.
Then I searched for the address attached to his consulting company.
That produced one result.
A vendor contract from eight months earlier.
I opened it.
The signature page stopped me.
The consultant’s name was not Mark Holloway.
It was Jenna Miller.
I read the document twice.
She had signed a confidentiality agreement with a company I had never approved.
And the contract was dated seven months before she supposedly met Mark.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
Nobody spoke.
“Hello?”
Silence.
Then a man’s voice.
“You should stop looking.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“You don’t want to know.”
“Try me.”
A quiet laugh.
“Your girlfriend isn’t the person you think she is.”
I stood.
“What did you do to her?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Then who are you?”
“Someone who knows what happens next.”
The line went dead.
I immediately called Daniel.
No answer.
I tried again.
Still nothing.
Then I heard a noise behind me.
The office door.
It was slowly opening.
I reached for the desk lamp.
“Who’s there?”
No response.
The door opened another inch.
I stepped backward.
Then Jenna walked in.
She was still wearing the clothes from our argument.
Her eyes were red.
“How did you get in?”
“You gave me a key.”
I stared at her.
“I changed the locks last month.”
Her face went pale.
She looked at the document in my hand.
Then at me.
“You found it.”
I didn’t move.
“What is this?”
She closed the door behind her.
“I can explain.”
“Were you working with Mark?”
She hesitated.
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
She looked down.
“Before I met you.”
The answer hit harder than I expected.
I stepped closer.
“Then why did you date me?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because at first, I was supposed to get close to your company.”
I stared at her.
“Supposed to?”
She nodded.
“But something changed.”
“What?”
She looked directly at me.
“I fell in love with you.”
I almost believed her.
Then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“But Mark never knew that.”
I frowned.
“Why does that matter?”
“Because Mark isn’t the person giving him orders.”
“Who is?”
Jenna looked at me.
“The person behind Northstar.”
She swallowed.
“The person who has been trying to destroy your company isn’t an investor.”
“Then who?”
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Your former business partner.”
I froze.
“Daniel?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
Then she said the name I hadn’t heard in five years.
“Ryan Carter.”
My older brother.
The man everyone had told me was dead.