THE HEIR BEHIND THE CREST

Chapter 05: Preparation For The Audit Visit

The day began with tension thick enough to taste. By sunrise, the Imperial Crest was already a hive of movement. Cleaning carts rattled through corridors, telephones rang without pause, and voices whispered under the hum of air conditioning. The first day of the audit had arrived.

John Raymond buttoned his uniform, adjusting the collar until it sat perfectly straight. Every movement was deliberate now, every expression controlled. Behind the mirror of his calm eyes, thoughts churned like hidden machinery. He had been waiting for this day. The game had truly begun.

Downstairs, Mr Harrison barked orders across the lobby.“Check the registers again! Not one error, do you understand?” His voice carried like thunder. Staff scattered, each desperate to avoid his wrath.

John moved quietly among them, carrying files, serving guests, and listening. He caught fragments of conversation from managers huddled near the elevators. The external auditors were already in the boardroom, comparing last quarter's accounts. Their arrival had everyone nervous, especially those with something to hide.

Rita stood at the reception desk, her usually steady hands trembling slightly as she flipped through guest logs. She looked up when John approached with a stack of reports. For a moment, their eyes met. The unease in her deepened.

“Morning,” John said evenly.

She hesitated, then whispered, “Be careful today. Harrison is angry about missing invoices.”

“Missing?” he asked, pretending ignorance.

She nodded. “Finance can't find them. He's blaming everyone.”

“Thank you,” he said softly, and walked away.

He took the service elevator to the mezzanine, where the finance department was in chaos. Miss Anabel's hair had come loose from its bun, and papers were scattered around her desk like fallen leaves. She barely noticed John until he placed the new files beside her.

“Finally,” she muttered. “Do you know where the supplier receipts from March went?”

“No, ma'am.”

Her eyes flicked up sharply. “You're sure?”

“Yes.”

She sighed. “Then Harrison will want to speak to you too. He thinks someone misplaced them during sorting.”

John nodded. “I'll be in the lobby.”

He left before she could say more. The missing receipts were exactly what he had copied days ago. He had hidden the originals in the maintenance vent of the staff locker room. They were proof that Harrison had funnelled hundreds of thousands through shell companies linked to Mart-Dove.

As he passed the corridor overlooking the atrium, he spotted Jerry Martins striding toward the boardroom, his expensive suit immaculate. The man looked every inch the self-made tycoon, though John now knew his wealth was built on stolen foundations.

Jerry caught sight of him and smirked. “You again. Shouldn't you be polishing shoes somewhere?”

John smiled faintly. “Already done, sir.”

“Good. Keep it that way.”

John kept walking, his composure unbroken. He had learned something Shack had repeated during their last meeting: never fight the powerful where they expect you to. Wait until they fight shadows.

By noon, the first wave of auditors had combed through the ledgers. The hotel buzzed with tension. Harrison moved between departments, his jaw clenched, his eyes scanning every face. At one point, he stopped near John.

“Raymond,” he said abruptly. “You filed March's receipts last week?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then where are they now?”

John met his gaze without blinking. “They were delivered to the finance office. Miss Anabel checked them.”

Harrison's eyes narrowed. “I will confirm that.” He turned on his heel and stormed away.

As soon as he was gone, John exhaled quietly. The web was tightening, just as Shack had predicted.

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At five o'clock, the boardroom doors opened. The auditors stepped out, followed by Harrison, Jerry, and two board members. Their conversation was low but heated. John caught a few words as they passed.

“… irregular transfers … system errors … must verify sources …”

The men disappeared into the executive wing. John returned to the service hall where Collins was stacking trays.

“Big day, huh?” Collins said. “They say the audit might shut us down if something's wrong.”

“Who says that?”

“Rita. She looked worried.”

John set down the trays. “If the hotel closes, what will you do?”

“Find another job, I guess. You?”

John smiled faintly. “I plan to stay.”

Collins laughed. “Good luck with that.”

When his shift ended, John changed clothes and slipped out the side exit. Shack's car waited by the curb, engine running. John climbed in without a word. The older man studied him for a moment before speaking.

“Your work is paying off. Harrison is panicking.”

“He should be,” John said. “The auditors found the inconsistencies?”

“They found enough to question him. But he still believes the missing receipts are a clerical error. Keep it that way until we strike.”

John nodded. “What happens next?”

“You plant the originals back into the system tomorrow morning,” Shack said. “Quietly. When they reappear, it will look as though Harrison tried to hide them.”

“And Jerry?”

“Leave him to me for now. His arrogance will destroy him soon enough.”

They drove through the dark streets, the city lights flickering past like distant memories. Shack's tone softened. “You are learning quickly, John. Remember, this war is not fought in boardrooms; it is fought in perception. When people start believing in you, power follows naturally.”

John looked out the window. “And when they stop believing in Harrison?”

“Then the empire will shift toward its rightful heir.”

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