Chapter 7 - The Compliance Director Who Had Hired Liam First

Victor knew Natalie Voss.

That was obvious from his silence.

“How well?” Khloe asked.

“Professionally.”

“Meaning?”

“She runs internal compliance reviews.”

“That sounds inconvenient.”

“It is becoming so.”

Walsh arranged a secure conference room at Russo Maritime the next morning.

Natalie was summoned under the pretense of a routine legal review.

Khloe watched through one-way glass with Walsh and Victor.

Natalie entered carrying a laptop and coffee.

Early forties.

Sharp gray suit.

Calm.

She looked nothing like a person who might coordinate stalking, sabotage, and false customs records.

Then again, Martin had looked like a supportive manager.

Liam had once looked like a charming boyfriend.

Appearances had lost evidentiary value.

Khloe forced herself to watch Natalie’s body rather than her clothes or expression. People often prepared faces for difficult meetings. Hands, posture, breathing, and timing were harder to rehearse. She had learned that from years of negotiating with suppliers who smiled while hiding a late shipment.

Victor’s general counsel asked Natalie about Parker Logistics.

She answered smoothly.

Yes, she had worked there.

Yes, she recruited junior sales staff.

Yes, she remembered Liam.

“Why did you hire him?”

“Referral.”

“From whom?”

Natalie paused.

“Martin Shaw.”

Khloe’s stomach tightened.

The counsel asked whether she maintained contact with either man.

“Occasionally.”

“Have you communicated with them about Russo shipments?”

“Only in ordinary vendor channels.”

Walsh whispered, “She’s careful.”

Victor said nothing.

Then counsel displayed the hidden J.Mercer credential.

Natalie’s face did not change.

“Do you recognize it?”

“No.”

“Do you know anyone named Mercer?”

“No.”

The lie was too clean.

Khloe leaned closer to the glass.

Natalie’s right hand rested near her coffee.

One finger tapped twice against the lid.

Stopped.

Tapped twice again.

Khloe had seen that rhythm somewhere.

She opened her old text archive from Liam.

Months earlier, during arguments, he sometimes sent two periods.

Then two more.

A strange habit.

She had assumed impatience.

Now she searched.

Dozens of messages.

.. ..

Always when Liam said he was “checking with someone.”

Khloe showed Walsh.

“Could mean nothing.”

“Could.”

Victor looked at the tapping finger.

“Or learned behavior.”

The interview continued.

Natalie denied accessing Khloe’s personnel file.

Denied knowing her address.

Denied involvement in customs changes.

Then counsel asked one unexpected question.

“Do you know Harrow Strategic?”

Natalie’s hand stopped.

Only for half a second.

Khloe saw it.

Walsh saw it.

Victor did too.

Natalie answered, “No.”

The financial records disagreed.

Harrow Strategic had paid a consulting firm owned by Natalie’s brother.

That did not prove criminal activity.

But it established a connection she had just denied.

Walsh entered the room.

Natalie’s composure shifted.

Not fear.

Calculation.

“You’re not required to answer questions,” Walsh said. “But lying to your employer is different from lying to police, and I’d rather keep those categories clear.”

Natalie closed her laptop.

“I want counsel.”

Interview over.

Victor’s general counsel suspended her access.

Within minutes, IT found she had attempted remote deletion from her phone.

That created a preservation emergency.

Police obtained consent from the company to image her corporate systems.

The results changed everything.

Her deleted files contained a folder disguised as quarterly compliance training. Inside were routing maps, screenshots of employee access logs, and brief behavioral notes about Victor’s staff. One note identified which assistant always called legal counsel first. Another tracked how quickly port managers contacted Victor when a shipment stalled.

This was not ordinary corporate espionage. It was rehearsal.

Natalie had not created J.Mercer.

She had monitored it.

The credential was controlled from an external server.

She had received weekly reports summarizing which shipments it touched.

One email contained only a sentence:

G MUST LAND DIRTY.

Khloe stared at it.

“Dirty with what?”

Nobody knew.

Another message read:

RUSSO REACTION PROFILE COMPLETE.

Victor’s jaw tightened.

“They’re studying me.”

Khloe remembered the six test shipments.

Not only customs behavior.

Victor’s behavior.

How quickly his people called.

Which lawyers responded.

Whether he rerouted cargo.

Who he trusted.

Walsh asked, “Why?”

Victor looked at the harbor.

“To make sure I react predictably when G arrives.”

Khloe followed the logic.

“If they know your response, they can place you where they need you.”

“Or keep me away from something else.”

Natalie’s archived calendar offered the next clue.

On the night of the restaurant confrontation, she had blocked two hours under a fake meeting title.

OBSIDIAN.

Khloe felt sick.

“She knew Liam was going there.”

Walsh nodded.

“Probably.”

“Did she tell him to grab me?”

“We don’t know.”

Khloe looked at Victor.

His face had become terrifyingly still.

“Do not do anything stupid.”

He turned.

“That is broad advice.”

“I mean it.”

“So do I.”

Walsh cut in.

“Both of you stop communicating like people in a bad crime movie.”

Khloe almost smiled.

Then an analyst rushed into the room.

“Natalie’s phone just received a scheduled message.”

Walsh took the printed capture.

Three words.

PHASE TWO TONIGHT.

Below it was an address.

Khloe recognized the street.

May you like

[COMPLETED] “GET YOUR HANDS OFF MY DRESS! YOU’RE NOTHING BUT AN OLD SEAM...

[COMPLETED] At the Mafia Boss's Engagement Party, I Served His Hungry So...

[COMPLETED] The Mafia Boss’s Fiancée Tried to Dismiss His Father’s Loyal...

Victor did too.

It belonged to the Obsidian Room.