Corporate security found my Maybach exactly where the tracker said it was.

But they didn’t approach immediately.

I had given them one instruction.

—Document everything first.

Thirty minutes later, my security director called.

—Mrs. Sullivan, you’re going to want to see this yourself.

That sentence told me the situation was worse than borrowing my car for a romantic weekend.

I drove to the hotel in another company vehicle.

When I arrived, two security officers were waiting near the entrance.

One handed me a tablet.

There were photographs.

Kevin handing his keys to a valet.

Jessica stepping out wearing a red dress.

Several shopping bags in the trunk.

And then another image caught my attention.

Jessica was holding something in her hand.

My corporate fuel card.

I looked up.

—How long has he been using that?

—We’re checking.

My security director hesitated.

—There’s something else.

He opened another file.

Parking charges.

Fuel purchases.

Tolls.

Restaurant valet fees.

Weekend trips.

All charged through accounts connected to my vehicle.

The total wasn’t enormous compared with what my company spent every month.

That was probably why nobody had noticed.

But the amount wasn’t the point.

Kevin hadn’t simply borrowed my car.

He had slowly started treating my property as his own.

I walked into the hotel.

Jessica and Kevin were sitting in the lobby restaurant.

Champagne stood between them.

Jessica saw me first.

Her smile disappeared.

Then she leaned toward Kevin.

He turned.

The glass almost slipped from his hand.

—Mrs. Sullivan?

I stopped beside their table.

Jessica frowned.

—Why are you here?

I looked at Kevin.

—Good question.

He immediately stood.

—Let me explain.

—Please do.

His eyes moved toward the security officers behind me.

Jessica finally noticed them.

Kevin swallowed.

—The tire wasn’t actually flat.

—I know.

—I only needed the car for today.

—You told me it was in a workshop.

He lowered his voice.

—Jessica wanted to celebrate our anniversary.

Jessica slammed her glass onto the table.

—Why are you explaining yourself to her?

Kevin froze.

She pointed at me.

—She’s your employee, isn’t she?

Silence.

I almost laughed.

So that was the lie.

Not only had Kevin allowed Jessica to believe the Maybach belonged to him.

He had apparently told her I worked for him.

Jessica stood and looked me up and down.

—Kevin told me everything.

I folded my arms.

—Did he?

—Yes.

Her confidence returned.

—He said your husband abandoned you and Kevin felt sorry for you, so he sometimes gave you rides to your little office job.

Kevin closed his eyes.

I stared at him.

—My little office job?

—Mrs. Sullivan—

Jessica interrupted.

—And now you’re following us to a hotel?

She shook her head.

—This is embarrassing.

My security director looked away, perhaps to hide his expression.

I remained calm.

—Jessica, whose car do you think you’re using?

She laughed.

—Kevin’s.

—And who do you think pays for it?

—Kevin does.

I nodded toward the parking area.

—Then ask him to show you the registration.

For the first time, Jessica hesitated.

She looked at Kevin.

—Show her.

Kevin didn’t move.

—Kevin?

His face had gone pale.

Jessica’s voice sharpened.

—Why aren’t you saying anything?

I took the vehicle registration from my security director and placed it on the table.

Jessica stared at my name.

Once.

Twice.

Then she looked at me.

Her lips parted.

—That’s fake.

—It isn’t.

—Then maybe you’re leasing it to him.

—I’m not.

She turned toward Kevin.

—Tell her.

Kevin whispered:

—Jessica…

Something in his voice finally frightened her.

—Tell me what?

He rubbed his forehead.

—The car isn’t mine.

Her expression emptied.

—What?

—I’m her driver.

Jessica didn’t move.

The restaurant suddenly seemed extraordinarily quiet.

Kevin continued desperately.

—My father used to drive for her. He retired, and she gave me the position.

Jessica slowly sat down.

Then her eyes widened.

—So the apartment?

Kevin said nothing.

—The apartment you said you bought?

Silence.

—Kevin.

—It’s rented.

Her voice became smaller.

—And the watch?

—A replica.

She stared at him.

Then at me.

And suddenly the humiliation on her face transformed into anger.

—You lied to me!

She grabbed her handbag and struck him across the shoulder with it.

—You told me you owned a transportation company!

Several people turned.

Kevin tried to stop her.

—Jessica, listen—

—You said she was some desperate employee who kept begging you for rides!

She pointed at me.

—You let me insult your boss!

That was when Kevin finally lost his patience.

—Because you wouldn’t date me otherwise!

Jessica stopped.

Kevin immediately realized he had said too much.

But there was no taking it back.

She stared at him for several seconds.

Then she laughed bitterly.

—You’re pathetic.

She picked up her bag.

Before leaving, however, she turned toward me.

For a moment I expected an apology.

Instead she said:

—You should control your employees better.

Then she walked away.

I watched her disappear through the hotel doors.

Kevin remained standing beside the table.

—Mrs. Sullivan, I know how this looks.

—It looks exactly how it is.

—I’ll pay for everything.

—This isn’t about the champagne.

He stepped closer.

—Please don’t fire me.

I said nothing.

His voice cracked.

—My father will be devastated.

There it was again.

His father.

The shield he used whenever consequences arrived.

I looked at him carefully.

—Your father gave me six years of honest service.

Kevin nodded quickly.

—Exactly.

—Which is why I gave you an opportunity you hadn’t earned.

His expression changed.

I continued.

—Your father’s reputation opened the door.

—Your behavior closed it.

Kevin’s shoulders dropped.

—Please.

—You’re terminated effective immediately.

He stared at me.

—Mrs. Sullivan—

—Security will collect the keys.

He slowly reached into his pocket.

Then something unexpected happened.

One of my security officers approached.

—Ma’am, before he leaves, there’s another issue.

Kevin went rigid.

I turned.

The officer held up his phone.

—Finance finished checking the vehicle expenses.

Kevin suddenly stepped forward.

—That’s unnecessary.

My security director blocked him.

The officer continued.

—Some charges aren’t associated with this vehicle.

I frowned.

—What do you mean?

He showed me the screen.

There were transactions from three other company vehicles.

Fuel.

Maintenance.

Parking.

Even replacement parts.

All approved using credentials assigned to my executive transportation account.

I looked at Kevin.

—How did you get access to this?

—I didn’t.

The answer came too quickly.

My security director spoke.

—Someone has been using Mrs. Sullivan’s authorization code for nearly two months.

Kevin shook his head.

—It wasn’t me.

—Then you won’t mind us investigating.

For the first time that afternoon, he didn’t plead.

He looked afraid.

Not embarrassed.

Afraid.

That distinction mattered.

I took the Maybach keys from the table.

—Escort him out.

Kevin was halfway across the lobby when he suddenly turned.

—Mrs. Sullivan!

Security stopped him.

He looked directly at me.

—Before you investigate those transactions, talk to my father.

I frowned.

—Why?

His face had lost all color.

—Because he knows who gave me your authorization code.

My stomach tightened.

—Who?

Kevin glanced at the people around us.

Then he said something I never expected.

—Someone inside your company.

That evening, I returned home without using the Maybach.

The car no longer felt important.

At 8:17 p.m., my phone rang.

Robert Liu.

Kevin’s father.

I answered immediately.

—Robert?

There was breathing on the other end.

Then his tired voice.

—Mrs. Sullivan, Kevin told me what happened.

—I’m sorry.

I remained silent.

—He deserved to lose the job.

That surprised me.

Then Robert continued.

—But there’s something I should have told you three months ago.

I sat upright.

—What?

Another long silence.

—The reason I retired wasn’t only because of my lungs.

My fingers tightened around the phone.

Robert lowered his voice.

—Someone in your company offered me fifty thousand dollars to install a device inside your car.

I stopped breathing for a second.

—What kind of device?

—I refused.

His voice trembled.

—That’s when I decided to leave.

I stood.

—Who offered you the money?

Before Robert could answer, my security system sounded.

Someone was at my front gate.

I opened the camera feed.

A black sedan was parked outside.

A man stepped from the rear door carrying a small package.

Then my phone vibrated with a message from corporate security.

“Mrs. Sullivan, don’t open your door.”

A second message arrived.

“We inspected the Maybach.”

Then a photograph loaded.

Hidden beneath the rear seat—the same seat Jessica had once covered with that insulting sheet—was a tiny electronic device.

And beside it was something far more disturbing.

A photograph of me leaving my house.

Taken that very morning.

On the back, someone had written three words:

“SHE KNOWS NOTHING.”

Robert was still on the phone.

Finally he whispered the name of the person who had approached him.

And when I heard it, I understood why Kevin had been terrified.

Because the person secretly tracking me wasn’t a stranger.

It was someone sitting on my company’s board.

Someone I had trusted for eleven years.

Someone who was supposed to be attending an overseas conference that weekend.

Yet according to my security camera…

that same person was standing outside my gate.

Holding the package.

And smiling directly at the camera.