Chapter 5 - What the Cake ConcealedDaniel reached into the ruined chocolate batter and pulled out the sealed plastic bag.
The ballroom chatter instantly died down into an uneasy silence. Two hundred wealthy guests watched as the host stood up, wiping chocolate frosting from his fingers, holding a stack of bank documents that had been baked inside his own birthday cake.
“What is that?” Daniel asked, his voice low and dangerous.
Vanessa stared at the plastic bag as if it were a venomous snake. Her face lost all its color. “Daniel, don't open that! It’s... it must be a sick joke from the bakery! Someone on staff must have tampered with it!” Her eyes darted instantly to Naomi, pointing a sharp, manicured finger. “Her! Naomi was the one who picked up the cake this morning! She had it alone in her car for an hour!”
The entire room turned their eyes onto Naomi.
Naomi stood up straight, smoothing her black apron down, refusing to shrink under the weight of two hundred accusing stares.
“I picked up the cake from the address written on the sticky note in the kitchen, Mr. Whitfield,” Naomi said clearly, her voice echoing in the quiet room. “I did not bake it, nor did I put anything inside it.”
“You expect us to believe that?” Vanessa shouted, her voice rising into an anxious pitch. “Daniel, she’s a maid! She has access to the house keys! She’s probably working with someone to blackmail you!”
“Vanessa, quiet,” Daniel said firmly.
He tore open the plastic seal and unfolded the documents.
They were corporate transfer agreements and wire instructions from Whitfield Logistics. The top document was an offshore banking authorization, transferring 40% of Whitfield Logistics' liquid assets into a shell company registered in the Cayman Islands.
The name on the shell company was David Cole Enterprises.
And at the bottom of the wire transfer was a signature.
Daniel stared at the signature. It was his own handwriting—or a nearly flawless forgery of it.
“David...” Daniel whispered, his eyes narrowing as he remembered the name. “David Cole. Vanessa... isn't that your cousin?”
“No!” Vanessa blurted out instantly, her hands shaking. “I mean—yes, he’s my cousin, but he has nothing to do with your company! Daniel, listen to me, someone is trying to frame my family!”
Daniel looked down at the documents, then reached into his suit jacket and pulled out his phone. He dialed a number on speakerphone.
“Marcus,” Daniel said to his chief legal officer, who was sitting at a table near the back of the room. “Check the corporate ledger for Whitfield Logistics. Has there been a pending wire transfer submitted for 12:00 AM tonight?”
Marcus tapped rapidly on his laptop screen from his table. After ten agonizing seconds, Marcus looked up, his face grim.
“Yes, Daniel. A scheduled offshore transfer of $12 million to David Cole Enterprises is set to execute at midnight. The authorization came from your private home office computer at 4:00 PM today.”
A collective gasp rippled through the ballroom.
Vanessa took a step back, her eyes wild with panic. “That’s impossible! Daniel, I was with you at 4:00 PM!”
“No, you weren't,” Daniel said softly, his voice dropping into a chilling, absolute calm. “At 4:00 PM, I was in the garden meeting with the caterers. You said you were upstairs powdering your nose.”
Daniel turned his gaze slowly to Naomi.
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“Naomi,” Daniel said gently. “When you picked up this cake... where did you go?”
Naomi took a deep breath. It was time to tell the whole truth.
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