“What did he want?”
“He wants you fired.”
She stared at him.
“For what?”
“He says you embarrassed him.”
Naomi almost laughed.
“He made a bet.”
“I know.”
“He asked me to speak Mandarin.”
“I know.”
“He offered me one hundred thousand dollars.”
“I know.”
“He lost.”
Samuel sighed.
“That is exactly why.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Are you firing me?”
Samuel hesitated.
“No.”
Relief crossed her face.
“But Victor is threatening to stop coming here.”
Naomi understood.
“How much does he spend?”
“Enough.”
She nodded.
Samuel looked ashamed.
“I told him I couldn't fire you for speaking a language.”
Naomi smiled faintly.
“Thank you.”
Samuel leaned back.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“He asked whether you knew anything about the Hale waterfront project.”
Naomi's expression changed.
“Why?”
Samuel lowered his voice.
“I don't know.”
Naomi stood.
“Then let's hope he forgets about me.”
He didn't.
That afternoon, Naomi received an email.
No sender name.
No message.
Just an attachment.
A financial report.
She opened it.
It was the preliminary investment structure for Hale Waterfront.
Naomi stared.
She recognized several numbers.
Something was wrong.
She read the document twice.
Then a third time.
The financing projections were based on occupancy numbers that seemed impossible.
The technology sector assumptions were outdated.
And one liability had been moved into a subsidiary that was barely mentioned in the public proposal.
Naomi printed the document.
She didn't know why.
Maybe because she had spent years studying risk.
Maybe because she couldn't stop being an analyst just because she had stopped working as one.
She took a pen.
Circled several figures.
Then froze.
There was a name.
Carter Strategic Advisory.
Her own surname.
Naomi's heart began pounding.
She searched the document.
Then searched the company registry.
The firm had been created fourteen months earlier.
Its listed director was unknown to her.
But the address was familiar.
A law office downtown.
Naomi knew that building.
Her father's former attorney worked there.
She called him.
“Mr. Reeves?”
“Naomi?”
“I need to ask you something.”
There was a pause.
“Go ahead.”
“Do you know anything about Carter Strategic Advisory?”
Silence.
Then:
“How did you hear about it?”
Naomi's stomach tightened.
“Why?”
“Naomi, I can't discuss client information.”
“Is my father involved?”
Another silence.
“Naomi…”
“Please.”
Her voice broke.
“Is my father involved?”
Finally, Reeves answered.
“No.”
Naomi exhaled.
“But someone used your family name.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
She hung up.
Her hands were shaking.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice spoke.
“You shouldn't have looked.”
Naomi froze.
“Who is this?”
“You know exactly what I'm talking about.”
“No, I don't.”
“You were given the file for a reason.”
“What reason?”
The caller laughed softly.
“To see whether you'd recognize the trap.”
Naomi stood.
“What trap?”
The line went dead.
She stared at her phone.
Then another message appeared.
Meet me tomorrow. 7:00 p.m. Ferry Building. Come alone.
Naomi deleted it.
Then restored it from her trash.
She didn't know who was contacting her.
But she knew one thing.
The bet was no longer about Mandarin.
Someone had deliberately put her in the middle of something much larger.
And Victor Hale was somehow connected.
The Investor Returns
Two days later, Henry Lin returned to the restaurant.
He wasn't alone.
This time, he brought five people.
Naomi recognized two immediately.
They were representatives of the investment consortium.
But the third person made her stop.
It was Vincent Zhao.
One of the largest private investors in San Francisco's technology sector.
He had once spoken at Naomi's university.
She had watched the lecture online.
Now he was standing in front of her.
“Ms. Carter?”
“Yes.”
He smiled.
“Mr. Lin has told me about you.”
Naomi looked toward Henry.
Henry nodded.
Vincent extended his hand.
“We need your help.”
Naomi frowned.
“My help?”
“With something very specific.”
He handed her a folder.
She opened it.
Inside was the same financial structure she had received anonymously.
But there were additional documents.
Audit notes.
Internal emails.
Legal correspondence.
Naomi read them quickly.
Her expression changed.
“This project isn't simply overleveraged.”
Vincent nodded.
“Correct.”
“It's being used to conceal another liability.”
Henry said quietly:
“Exactly.”
Naomi looked at him.
“Where did you get these?”
“From people who became worried.”
She turned another page.
Then another.
The hidden liability was enormous.
Nearly $180 million.
If the project failed, the investors would be exposed.
Naomi looked up.
“Why are you showing me this?”
Vincent answered.
“Because your name appeared in the documents.”
Naomi's face went pale.
“What?”
He pointed.
“Carter Strategic Advisory.”
Naomi stared at the page.
“That isn't my company.”
“We know.”
“Then who created it?”
“We are trying to find out.”
Henry leaned forward.
“There is another problem.”
“What?”
“The company was incorporated using an old address connected to your father.”
Naomi's heart sank.
“My father?”
“Yes.”
She immediately called him.
He answered after several rings.
“Naomi?”
“Dad, did you ever sign anything involving Hale Waterfront?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Did anyone ever ask you to authorize a company?”
Silence.
Then her father's voice became uncertain.
“There was a man.”
“Who?”
“He said he was representing an investment group.”