Chapter 3 - The Woman Dominic Chose to Blame
Sarah had spent sixteen years building her name.
She had begun as the junior architect who stayed after everyone left.
Then the project architect who caught mistakes nobody else noticed.
Then the woman clients requested when buildings became complicated.
Her signature meant something.
Not fame.
Not power.
Responsibility.
That was why the possibility of forgery frightened her more than Dominic’s threats.
“Show me the report.”
Dominic crossed his arms.
“I already told you. I misspoke.”
“Then you won’t mind showing it.”
“This isn’t the place.”
Sarah glanced around the ballroom.
“Interesting. It was the place when you blamed me in front of two hundred people.”
A few faces turned away.
Dominic lowered his voice.
“You want to destroy your career?”
“No.”
Sarah met his eyes.
“I want to find out whether you tried to.”
Enzo stepped closer, but Sarah raised one hand.
Not now.
She wanted Dominic looking at her.
Not Enzo.
“Where is the report?”
Dominic smiled thinly.
“Ask your own office.”
Sarah’s stomach dropped.
“My office?”
“That’s where it came from.”
For the first time, uncertainty entered her face.
Dominic saw it.
And pounced.
“Maybe before accusing everyone else, you should ask who works for you.”
Sarah immediately thought of her team.
Maya.
Ben.
Luis.
Priya.
People she trusted.
People who had worked nights beside her.
Impossible.
But Dominic had wanted that reaction.
He wanted doubt.
Enzo spoke quietly.
“Sarah.”
She looked at him.
“Don’t let him choose where you look.”
The sentence steadied her.
Dominic scoffed.
“Very dramatic.”
Enzo ignored him.
Sarah opened her phone and called Maya Chen, her senior project coordinator.
Maya answered on the second ring.
“Sarah? I’ve been trying to reach you.”
“What happened?”
“There are people in the office.”
Sarah’s spine stiffened.
“What people?”
“Castellano Development’s legal team.”
Dominic turned away.
Sarah saw it.
That tiny movement.
Enough.
“Why?”
“They said they’re collecting project records.”
“Do not give them anything.”
“They already have access.”
“How?”
A pause.
“Administrative authorization.”
Sarah looked at Dominic.
“From whom?”
Maya hesitated.
“Your account.”
Sarah stopped breathing.
“My account?”
“The approval came from your credentials at 8:14 tonight.”
Sarah looked at the clock.
At 8:14, she had been standing in the ballroom supervising the lighting sequence.
Her phone had been with her.
“Lock the archive.”
“I tried.”
“Then disconnect the server.”
“Sarah—”
“Do it.”
She ended the call.
Dominic gave a small shrug.
“Technical problems?”
Sarah stepped toward him.
“What did you do?”
“Careful.”
“You accessed my firm.”
“You’re making accusations.”
“And you’re leaving fingerprints everywhere.”
Enzo had already begun typing.
“What’s the firm called?”
“Kuri Studio.”
He sent a message.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure nobody deletes your records.”
Sarah almost objected.
Then her phone rang again.
Maya.
“They left.”
Sarah frowned.
“What?”
“They just got a call. All four of them walked out.”
Sarah looked at Enzo.
He had put his phone away.
“What did you do?”
“Nothing complicated.”
Dominic laughed bitterly.
“Of course not.”
Enzo’s gaze remained on Sarah.
“My cybersecurity team mirrored your project archive.”
“You had no permission.”
“You’re right.”
That surprised him.
Or perhaps her refusal did.
Sarah continued.
“You don’t get access to my firm because you have money.”
“Agreed.”
“Delete the copy.”
“When your team confirms its records are secure.”
“Now.”
Enzo studied her.
Then called someone.
“Delete the Kuri mirror. Confirm when done.”
He hung up.
Dominic looked amused.
“You think that makes him trustworthy?”
Sarah didn’t answer.
Because she didn’t trust Enzo.
Not yet.
But he had done something Dominic had never done.
He had listened when she said no.
Thirty seconds later, Enzo showed her the deletion confirmation.
Sarah nodded.
“Thank you.”
Then she called Maya again.
“Export the audit logs. Read-only copy. Two encrypted drives.”
“Already doing it.”
“That’s why I hired you.”
Maya exhaled.
“Sarah, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“I found the feasibility report.”
Sarah’s eyes lifted to Dominic.
“Send it.”
The file arrived seconds later.
Twenty-seven pages.
Sarah scrolled.
Page twenty-six.
Her name.
Sarah Kuri, AIA.
Below it was a digital signature.
It looked perfect.
Except for one thing.
Sarah smiled.
Dominic saw the smile and became uneasy.
“What?”
She turned the screen toward him.
“You should have hired a better forger.”
Harold leaned closer.
“What’s wrong with it?”
“My middle initial.”
Nobody understood.
Sarah pointed.
“The signature says Sarah M. Kuri.”
“Yes?”
“I don’t use my middle initial professionally.”
Dominic’s face changed.
Sarah continued.
“I haven’t used it on a professional document since my licensing application sixteen years ago.”
Harold stared at the screen.
Enzo asked, “Could someone know it?”
“Of course.”
“But whoever created this assumed adding more of your legal name would make the signature look more official.”
“Exactly.”
Sarah scrolled further.
Then stopped.
The report claimed she had approved the reclassification four months earlier.
Four months.
Before she had even been hired.
She looked up.
“This document is dated February.”
Harold whispered, “You joined the project in April.”
Sarah nodded.
Dominic said nothing.
That silence condemned him more effectively than any accusation.
Harold stepped backward.
“I need to contact counsel.”
“You need to contact the entire board,” Sarah said.
Dominic snapped.
“You don’t tell him what he needs to do.”
Sarah turned.
“No. But I can tell you what I’m going to do.”
“And what’s that?”
“Protect my name.”
Dominic laughed.
“Your name? Sarah, look around you. Do you know how many firms would kill for this contract?”
“Then give it to one of them.”
“You’ll never work on a project this size again.”
Maybe once, that threat would have frightened her.
Tonight it didn’t.
Sarah thought of her father working double shifts after bringing the family to America.
Her mother correcting Sarah’s English homework at the kitchen table while learning English herself.
Her grandmother folding napkins for weddings in Beirut.
None of them had crossed oceans so Sarah could become successful enough to be frightened into silence.
She closed the file.
“You keep talking like you gave me my career.”
Her voice remained calm.
“You didn’t.”
Dominic’s face hardened.
“You’re finished.”
“No.”
Sarah looked around the ballroom she had built.
Then back at him.
“I think we’re finally discussing the person who is.”
A murmur moved through the crowd.
Dominic’s composure cracked.
“You arrogant—”
“Dominic.”
Enzo’s voice stopped him.
Not loudly.
Just completely.
Enzo held up his phone.
“What now?” Dominic demanded.
“The lender found another discrepancy.”
Sarah looked at him.
“Where?”
“Hospital allocation.”
Harold went pale.
“No.”
Enzo nodded.
“Twenty-eight million dollars.”
Dominic immediately said, “Accounting error.”
Enzo looked at Sarah.
“It appears the money was moved through three consulting agreements.”
“Whose consulting agreements?”
Enzo didn’t answer immediately.
That frightened Sarah.
“Enzo.”
He turned the screen toward her.
The first company meant nothing.
Neither did the second.
The third did.
Kuri Design Advisory LLC.
Sarah stared.
“That isn’t my company.”
“I know.”
“It uses my name.”
“Yes.”
Her blood ran cold.
Someone had created a company bearing her surname.
Someone had forged her signature.
Someone had moved money through it.
And if the project collapsed tomorrow, investigators would follow the paper trail straight to her.
Dominic had not merely planned to profit from the redevelopment.
He had built an escape route.
And Sarah Kuri had been chosen to stand at the end of it.
She looked up at Dominic.
For the first time, she understood why he had hired her.
May you like
And the truth was worse than anything she had imagined.
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