Page 100 of Babies for the Christmas Grump
The numbers blur together, a mess of figures that all seem to swim in the same ocean of uncertainty. I’m staring at the screen, hoping that if I stare long enough, something will click, something will make sense.
But right now, all I can see are the lies. The fingerprints of Vincent Lang, carved into every page, every entry.
I wasn’t planning on spending my morning this way, combing through the hotel’s financial records when there’s so much to do.
But here I am.
The gala’s coming up, and everyone’s running around with smiles plastered on their faces, pretending everything’s fine. But I know better.
And right now, I can’t focus on that. I can’t focus on anything, but the mess Lang has made of this place.
Especially when he’s trying his damn hardest to extract more.
I lean back in my chair, rubbing a hand over my face, trying to clear the fog in my brain. I’ve already spent hours sifting through this mess, and so far, all I’ve found is more of the same. Invoices that don’t seemreal.
But then, something catches my eye—a series of transactions that don’t belong. A trust fund hidden in the margins of the accounts, buried deep enough that it almost doesn’t seem to be part of the hotel’s finances at all.
I frown, leaning closer to the screen. This isn’t just a mismanagement of funds. This is planned. And it’s not small change, either.
The numbers are large enough to make anyone uncomfortable. There’s a flow of money here that’s been going on for years, hidden under layers of deceit. Whoever set this up knew exactly what they were doing.
A payment of $250,000 from the Garland Rose’s operational account into a restricted “Evie Quinn Legacy Fund” on March 12th last year. Another transfer of $350,000 six months later.
Both transactions were disguised as miscellaneous vendor fees in the general ledger.
“What the hell?” I mutter to myself. “What isthisnow?”
But then I see it. A notation attached to the second payment, the one made six months later. It reads:In case of sabotage.
I pause.Sabotage? I read it over again, my jaw tightening.
It’s a warning, a red flag. A sign that Evie knew something was off. Something she couldn’t name but could feel coming.
She really did know.
I push back in my chair, running a hand over my face. This changes everything. Evie wasn’t just trying to protect the hotel’s future; she was protecting Sunny’s. And she knew precisely who the threat was.
Vincent Lang. That bastard had been bleeding The Garland Rose dry, and Evie knew it. She was making sure that no matter what, Sunny would have a fallback, a reserve.
For the hotel. For her.
But the question now is… what the hell do I do with this?
Sunny needs this. She’ll love it.
But…
With Lang’s legal threats hanging in the air, he might come after Sunny harder. He bled Evie dry, or so he thought, and I’m sure he’ll want to do the same to Sunny.
He wanted The Garland Rose, for whatever reason, and I’m sure he still does.
No one can know about this money yet. Not even Sunny.
If Lang finds out that the hotel’s financial situation is better than he thinks, he’ll change his strategy. He’ll find a way to push harder, demand more, and I won’t let that happen.
Not while I’m still trying to sort this out.
I need to protect Sunny. I need to preserve everything Evie worked so hard for, but I can’t let anyone, especially Lang, know about the trust fund until I’ve got a stronger hold on things. I can’t risk it. Not yet.
