Chapter 1
Chapter 1
The Final Warning
The rain had been falling over London since dawn.
Amelia Bennett stood behind the glass wall of her father's office, watching the grey sky swallow the city.
Eighteen months.
That was how long she had fought to keep Bennett & Sons alive.
Eighteen months since her father's funeral.
Eighteen months since she had inherited a company she had never expected to run.
And now, after all that time, she was standing on the edge of losing everything.
A soft knock came at the door.
"Miss Bennett?"
Amelia turned.
Her financial director, Daniel Hayes, stood in the doorway with a folder pressed against his chest.
One look at his face told her the news wasn't good.
"Come in."
Daniel entered slowly and closed the door behind him.
He didn't sit.
Neither did Amelia.
She walked towards her desk and folded her arms.
"How bad is it?"
Daniel hesitated.
"How bad?"
He exhaled.
"The bank has rejected the extension."
Amelia's stomach tightened.
"What extension?"
"The one we requested last week."
"You told me they were considering it."
"They were."
"And?"
"They've changed their position."
Silence settled between them.
Amelia looked towards the framed photograph sitting on her desk.
Her father was smiling in it.
Thomas Bennett had always smiled like he believed problems could be solved if you simply refused to give up.
She wished she still had that certainty.
"How much time do we have?" she asked.
Daniel placed the folder on her desk.
"Four weeks."
Amelia stared at him.
"Four weeks until what?"
"Until the bank begins proceedings to take control of the company."
Her fingers tightened around her arms.
"No."
"Amelia—"
"No."
She shook her head.
"There has to be another option."
"We've exhausted the options."
"What about the investors?"
"Three pulled out."
"The private buyer?"
"Withdrew this morning."
"Why?"
Daniel looked away.
"They don't believe the company can recover."
Amelia gave a bitter laugh.
"They don't believe because we haven't given them a reason to."
"That's not all."
She looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
Daniel was quiet for a moment.
Then he opened the folder.
"There are irregularities in the accounts."
Amelia's expression changed.
"What kind of irregularities?"
"Transfers."
"From where?"
"Several company accounts."
"To whom?"
"We're still tracing them."
Amelia stepped closer.
"Daniel, my father built this company for thirty-two years. He knew every account, every supplier, every contract."
"I know."
"So how did millions disappear without anyone noticing?"
Daniel didn't answer.
Amelia's eyes narrowed.
"You're saying someone stole from us."
"I'm saying someone may have moved money without authorisation."
"Before or after my father died?"
Daniel hesitated again.
"Some of the transactions happened before."
The room seemed to grow colder.
Amelia looked at the photograph again.
Her father's smile suddenly felt different.
Less comforting.
More mysterious.
"How much?"
"Nearly three million pounds."
She stared at him.
"Three million?"
Daniel nodded.
"And that's only what we've found."
Amelia slowly sat down.
Three million pounds.
The company was drowning in debt, and now she was discovering that someone had been taking money from it.
Her father's company.
Her father's legacy.
Her responsibility.
She pressed her fingers against her temples.
"Why didn't you tell me this before?"
"I wanted to verify everything."
"And now?"
"Now I think you need to know."
A phone began ringing.
Amelia glanced at the screen.
The bank.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A man's formal voice came through the line.
"Miss Bennett, I'm calling regarding Bennett & Sons."
"I know."
"We've reviewed the company's current financial position."
"And?"
"I'm afraid the bank can no longer continue supporting the outstanding facilities."
Amelia stood.
"You can't do this."
"Miss Bennett—"
"My father built that company with your bank's support."
"And we recognise that."
"Then give us more time."
"I'm sorry."
Her throat tightened.
"How long?"
"Twenty-eight days."
The call ended.
Amelia slowly lowered the phone.
Twenty-eight days.
She looked around her father's office.
The dark wooden shelves.
The old leather chair.
The awards he had collected over three decades.
Everything suddenly looked like it belonged to someone else's past.
Daniel remained silent.
Amelia took a deep breath.
"We're not closing."
"Amelia—"
"We're not."
She picked up the folder.
"I don't care how bad the numbers look. I don't care what the bank thinks."
She looked at him.
"We have twenty-eight days."
Daniel nodded reluctantly.
"And what are you going to do?"
Amelia looked towards the rain-covered windows.
"I'll find the money."
"Three million?"
"Whatever it takes."
Daniel studied her for a moment.
Then he gave a small nod.
"I'll go through the accounts again."
"Do that."
He walked towards the door.
Before leaving, he turned.
"Amelia?"
"Yes?"
"There is one more thing."
She waited.
"The largest unexplained transfer was made two days before your father died."
Amelia froze.
"How much?"
Daniel's expression hardened.
"One million pounds."
The door closed.
Amelia remained perfectly still.
Two days before her father's death.
One million pounds.
She looked slowly at the photograph on her desk.
For the first time since his funeral, a question formed in her mind that she had never allowed herself to ask.
What had her father been hiding?
Outside, London continued beneath the rain.
And across the city, in a penthouse overlooking the Thames, a billionaire was about to receive a warning of his own.
Sebastian Blackwood had no idea that the woman who could solve his biggest problem was already fighting one of her own.
And neither of them knew that their problems were about to become the same problem.
