Page 49 of Malevolent Secrets

He is tall, towering over me. He has light blonde hair and green eyes, a combination that would usually make a man look pretty and he does look pretty, but deceptively so.

There’s a hardness in his eyes, a stone coldness that speaks of cruelty beyond my wildest imaginations. I wouldn’t want to run into him in a dark alley.

Still, he says nothing to me.

“Vincent, hello. The boss is in the upper room,” Carla says, and I’m grateful for the information. So this is Vincent.

Without taking his eyes off me, he responds. “I know.”

Not even a greeting for me an acknowledgment of Carla’s pleasantries. She doesn’t seem fazed by it though, which tells me that she is used to it.

“Come on Daniella, we have a lot of ground to cover.”

I nod, again, grateful for the rescue. Then I have to sidestep him because he doesn’t move, which in and of itself is awkward.

“Is it something in the water they drink?” I ask.

“What?”

“The men here. Why are they so…” I trail off, but Carla seems to understand.

“It’s the Cosa Nostra. It’s poured into their blood at birth.”

I make an “ah” sound, and we keep walking.

Finally, Carla takes me to a small office near the back of the club. The room is modest but functional, with a large wooden desk that dominates the space. The desk is cluttered with papers, financial records and a computer that looks surprisingly modern compared to the rest of the decor.

The walls are lined with shelves filled with binders and ledgers, each meticulously labeled. A small window high on the wall lets in a sliver of natural light, though the room is primarily illuminated by a warm, overhead lamp.

There’s a filing cabinet in the corner, its drawers slightly ajar, revealing more stacks of documents.

The chair behind the desk is ergonomic, designed for long hours of work, and a small plant sits on the windowsill, adding a touch of life to the otherwise utilitarian space.

The atmosphere is quiet over all and slightly detached from the noise and bustle of the club. It provides a calm environment to focus on the complex financial tasks ahead.

“This will be your workspace,” she says, gesturing to a desk cluttered with papers and a computer. “Your main responsibilities will include managing the club’s finances, tracking expenses and ensuring everything is accounted for.”

I nod, taking a deep breath. “Got it.”

She hands me a stack of files. “These are the financial records for the past month. Go through them and make sure everything is in order. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

Settling into the chair, I begin to sort through the documents on the desk. There are financial statements detailing the club’s income, balance sheets and cash flow statements.

Expense reports list detailed records of all expenditures, including purchases, maintenance costs, and utility bills. Revenue reports break down the daily, weekly, and monthly income from bar sales, entrance fees, and VIP services.

As I flip through the papers, my breath catches as I see Jeremy’s name mentioned over and over. It seems like he had been in charge of a bunch of things here.

His name is listed as signing off on a bunch of expenditures. My heart races as I try to find more but…it’s a dead end.

It’s clear that the financial records are well-organized, a testament to whoever handled them before me. Everything is neatly categorized and easy to follow.

However, the sheer volume of transactions is overwhelming and I can’t help but feel a bit daunted by the task ahead.

Despite the orderly presentation, a few entries do catch my eye. Some transactions seem unusually large or vaguely described, making me question their legitimacy.

While the books appear clean on the surface, I have a nagging feeling that there might be more beneath the meticulously kept facade.

I make a mental note to dig deeper into these questionable entries when I have more time.

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