Chapter 8 - The Empty Office
|
The double mahogany doors leading into the Chief Executive’s suite felt impossibly heavy. Maya placed her hand on the brass handle, taking a deep, centering breath. For five years, this room had been completely off-limits to her, guarded by Victoria’s loyal assistants and private security. It was the room where her father had spent his final days, and the room where Victoria had systematically dismantled his legacy.
Maya pushed the doors open.
The office was disgustingly opulent. Victoria had completely redecorated, replacing her father’s warm oak furniture and classic leather chairs with cold, modern glass, sharp steel edges, and garish modern art that screamed of new, unearned wealth.
"It looks like a villain's lair," Leo muttered, stepping in behind her and wrinkling his nose in distaste.
"It was," Maya agreed, walking slowly toward the massive glass desk dominating the center of the room. "But villains always leave a mess behind when they are dragged out in handcuffs."
Maya walked around the desk and sat in the high-backed leather chair. It felt cold and alien. She immediately opened the top drawers. The federal agents had taken the obvious evidence—laptops, external hard drives, and physical files—but Maya knew Victoria better than anyone. Victoria was incredibly paranoid. She wouldn't have left her most damning secrets in a place the FBI could easily find with a standard search warrant.
"Help me look, Leo," Maya commanded.
"Look for what? The feds practically turned this place upside down."
"They looked for corporate documents. I am looking for Victoria’s personal insurance policy. She trusted no one, not even her husband. There has to be a hidden safe."
Maya stood up and began examining the wood paneling behind the desk. She ran her hands along the seams of the expensive mahogany, pressing gently on the decorative moldings. Leo moved toward the bookshelves, pulling at the leather-bound volumes one by one.
"Maya, over here," Leo called out after ten minutes of silent searching.
Maya rushed over. Leo had moved a large, abstract painting on the far wall. Behind it, seamlessly integrated into the wall paneling, was a state-of-the-art biometric wall safe.
"Biometric," Leo sighed in frustration. "We need her thumbprint or retinal scan. We're going to have to call a professional safecracker, which could take days to get approved."
Maya stared at the keypad, a small, triumphant smile playing on her lips.
"No, we don't," Maya said softly.
"What do you mean?"
"Victoria was arrogant, but she was also incredibly vain and nostalgic about her victories. She didn't use biometrics for everything because she liked the physical act of punching in the numbers. Look closely at the keypad."
Leo squinted. The numbers 0, 4, 1, and 8 were slightly more worn than the others.
May you like
"August 14th," Maya whispered. "The day my father died. The day she took control."
Maya punched in 0-8-1-4. The safe beeped, a green light flashed, and the heavy steel door clicked open.
