Page 58 of Protecting My Nanny

I raised an eyebrow. "What is it?"

"This," he tapped the folder, "is going to get us out of this hole." He placed a bag of takeout on the desk. "I thought we could eat in, discuss it over lunch."

"Must be big, if you want me to read it so fast."

"It's a rat race, man. And we're already losing." He took a seat, pulling out the food—sandwiches from our favorite deli.

I shook my head and flipped open the folder while unwrapping my sandwich. I skimmed the pages throughout lunch while Robert rambled on about the Knicks. It looked legit at first glance. A new investment group, offering us a way out. But there was something off.

"Who are these guys, Robert?" I asked, glancing up from the file. "This seems too good to be true."

"They're aggressive. But they're legit. It's a new group, a little under the radar. They're looking for opportunities like ours—companies that need a second wind."

"This clause here—" I pointed to a section detailing an unusually fast return on investment, with almost no oversight. "This doesn't make sense. No group is going to put in this much capital without demanding more control. It feels... off."

Robert waved his hand dismissively, taking a bite of his sandwich. "That's just how they operate. They want fast returns so they don't get bogged down with micromanaging. They want to see results. Think of it like venture capital, but more streamlined."

I wasn't convinced. "We should check this out thoroughly. Get a few things cleared before we even think of setting up a meeting."

Robert's face lit up, clearly expecting this. "Yeah, sure. But if it checks out, can I take the lead on it?"

I hesitated. Something still didn't sit right. But if it was as clean as he made it sound, it could be the solution we desperately needed. "If everything works out," I nodded slowly, "you can take the lead."

Robert's grin widened. He looked like a man who had just won the lottery.

I wish I had seen the truth behind that smile back then.

I let Robert run the negotiations over the next few days. He seemed confident, more so than usual, and I allowed myself to believe, just for a moment, that maybe he had found the answerto all of our problems. But as the days passed, he told me very little—just vague updates about how "things were looking good."

Still, my gut told me something wasn't right.

Suspicious, I started digging. I spent hours poring over the contract again, searching for anything I'd missed, but I couldn't find anything concrete. Frustrated, I reached out to Jake Miller, a friend who had been in the industry long enough to know the ins and outs of every major deal.

When Jake took a look at the file, the shift in his expression told me everything I needed to know. His face went pale, and he looked up at me with a seriousness I hadn't seen before. He slid the papers back toward me.

"Listen, Shane," he said, lowering his voice. "I'm going to give you the name of a detective. Call him. Don't mention me. And don't tell anyone I helped you with this."

That made my stomach drop. I'd never heard Jake talk like that.

"Jake, what's going on? Who are these people?"

"I can't say. But if you want to stay clear of serious trouble, you need to call this guy. I'm not joking, Shane—promise me you won't mention my name."

I nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I promise."

The next day, I waited until Robert was out of the office before I picked up the phone and called the detective.

Detective Henson's voice was calm but firm when he picked up, like a man who had seen his fair share of bad situations. I explained the details, trying to keep it vague enough not to incriminate anyone, but specific enough to let him know I was in deep.

"I'm glad you called me first," he said after a moment of silence. "If you hadn't, and you'd gone through with this deal, we'd be having a very different conversation right now."

A chill ran down my spine. "What do you mean?"

"The group you're dealing with—they're not investors, Shane. They're an organized crime syndicate. They use companies like yours to launder money, funnel cash through seemingly legitimate deals. Once you're in, you're in for good. You don't get out clean."

I sat there, stunned, the gravity of what Robert had nearly pulled us into hitting me all at once. I couldn't believe it.

"I'm calling off the deal," I said firmly, my mind already made up.

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