Page 14 of The Money Shot

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Page 14 of The Money Shot

The train lurched forward, and I tightened my hold, glancing at Liam. He was standing next to me, staring blankly at the subway map on the wall like he’d never seen it before. Bradley, meanwhile, was craning his neck over the heads of the crowd, probably scouting for anyone he could invite to the party.

It was a quick ride, just four minutes, but it felt longer with the way the air was thick around us. I wanted to say something, ask Liam again if he was okay, but every time I opened my mouth, it felt like the moment slipped past me, and I stayed quiet.

The train pulled into our stop, and we pushed our way off, joining the stream of people heading for the exit. We climbed the steep stairs to the street, the morning light bright against the gray buildings. Bradley took a quick glance at his watch, then turned to us with a grin, giving a little wave.

“See you guys tonight,” he called, before disappearing into the crowd.

Finally, it was just the two of us, and I couldn’t take it anymore. I reached out, placing a hand on Liam’s shoulder, feeling the tension coiled there.

“Hey,” I breathed. “Is everything okay?”

Chapter Eight

Liam

The noise of the city swirled around us as I stared at the ground, shuffling my feet. Jack was looking right at me, his hand still on my shoulder. “Is everything okay?” he asked, his voice quiet, steady. I wanted to tell him, to just come out and say everything that had been gnawing at me since yesterday. But the words wouldn’t come. Instead, I mumbled, “Yeah, just… work stuff. It’ll be fine.”

Jack’s gaze searched my face, probably knowing I was lying, but I couldn’t bear to look at him. Not now. “I’ll see you after work,” I said, barely meeting his eyes before I turned and headed down the street, putting as much distance as I could between us.

My building loomed up ahead, gray and imposing, blending into the dull morning sky. I pulled open the heavy glass doors and froze. Just inside, by the security desk, were the same SEC agents I’d seen yesterday, their dark suits and sharp gazes impossible to ignore. My stomach twisted, a deep unease settling in. I forced myself to walk past them and pressed the button for the elevator, feeling their eyes on my back as I waited.

When the elevator finally opened, I stepped in and rode up to my floor in silence, my reflection staring back at me from thepolished metal doors, tight-lipped and tense. I wished I could vanish into the walls.

The elevator doors slid open, and I stepped out onto the quiet, open floor. At the reception desk, Marissa sat stiffly, her eyes wide and anxious as she looked up. Her hand hovered over the phone, like she’d just been trying to call someone.

“What’s going on?” I asked, my voice coming out rougher than I meant.

Her face crumpled, and she shook her head, looking away for a second before meeting my eyes. “They—they said we need to go to Conference Room F. Someone’s… they’re going to explain what’s happening.” Her hand reached out, clutching my shoulder like it was the only thing keeping her from breaking down completely. I saw the tremor in her lip, the sheen of a tear slipping down her cheek. “I can’t lose this job, Liam. My little girl just turned one, and my husband… he’s still out of work.”

My chest tightened. Marissa was one of the kindest people here, always bringing in leftover birthday cake for the office or making coffee runs when no one else would. “It’ll be okay,” I said, the lie coming easier than I expected. I forced a smile, the kind that felt more like a mask than anything, and put my hand over hers for a second. “We’ll figure this out.”

She nodded, blinking away a tear, and together we walked down the long hallway to the conference room. The open door revealed a packed room, where people leaned against the walls, filling every inch of space. The usual hum of casual chatter was gone, replaced by a tense, anxious silence broken only by the occasional whispered question. Everyone was afraid, everyone on edge.

I leaned against the wall with Marissa beside me, scanning the room. My heart pounded as I picked up on snippets of conversation—the word “investigation” echoing again and again.

Then, a sharp sound cut through the whispers, and everyone turned. A woman stepped forward—someone I’d never seen before, but who looked like she was exactly where she belonged. She was in her forties, her dark hair pulled back into a no-nonsense bun, with an expression that could freeze water. Obviously, a person who didn’t bother with small talk or sugarcoating.

The woman cleared her throat, and the whispers in the room faded to a quiet murmur. Her eyes were hard, her mouth a tight line that only seemed to make the wrinkles around it sharper. “Good morning,” she said, though there was nothing good about it, her tone clipped and businesslike. “I’m Karen Bridges, Vice-President of Human Resources.”

Marissa beside me sucked in a shaky breath, and I felt her shoulder tense against mine.

Karen’s gaze drifted across the room, locking in on a few people here and there, like she wanted to make sure every single one of us knew what was coming.

“As you may have noticed,” she continued, her voice cool and deliberate, “there have been some... investigations involving senior leadership here.” She pressed her lips together, hesitating for the briefest second. “The Securities and Exchange Commission recently discovered that our CEO, Mr. James Reynolds, allegedly,”—she put a pointed emphasis on the word, almost like it hurt her to say it—“engaged in a series of illegal practices that have forced us to make immediate and drastic changes.”

A flurry of whispers erupted, swirling through the room like a wave. I caught the words Ponzi scheme in a dozen different voices, followed by gasps and murmurs. Some people turned to each other, disbelief and shock on their faces. Marissa’s fingers were digging into my arm, her mouth ajar.

Karen didn’t try to quiet the room; instead, she just waited, her eyes sharp, her face rigid. When the noise died down, she cleared her throat again. “We… all of us are being laid off, effective immediately.” Her voice softened for just a second, a brief crack in her icy facade. “I know this is a shock, and you will all be receiving an email within 48 hours with information on severance packages.”

Before we could fully process the news, Karen gestured toward the doorway, and a figure stepped into the room. Mr. Reynolds, the CEO, strolled in, chin held high, an air of arrogance radiating from him like a shield. He looked down at us, a smug expression plastered across his face as if he were addressing his employees at a company retreat, not telling them their lives were about to be upended.

He smiled that fake, practiced smile of his and cleared his throat. “I want to personally address all of you and assure you that these accusations against me are completely unfounded.” He waved a hand, as if dismissing a minor inconvenience, like the SEC was just a pesky fly buzzing around his head. “I have done nothing wrong. I’ve run this company with integrity—”

“You’re a crook!” a woman shouted from the back, her voice slicing through the air like a knife. All eyes turned toward her, and her face was red, her hands balled into fists at her sides.

“Liar!” someone else yelled, their voice trembling with rage. Another voice joined in, then another, until the room became a chorus of angry shouts.

Mr. Reynolds’ face reddened, his eyes narrowing as he took a step back. He muttered something under his breath, turned on his heel, and stormed out of the room, his shoulders stiff with indignation. As he disappeared down the hall, the shouting faded, replaced by a heavy, tense silence.




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