Sebastian POV
Sebastian hasn't slept properly in three years.
He sits in his office on the twenty-third floor and stares at profit margins that don't make sense. The company is bleeding money and he can't figure out where it's going. Board members are asking questions. Investors are getting nervous. Everything is falling apart and he has no idea how to stop it.
His assistant, Karen, knocks on his door. She looks stressed.
"The consultant is here," she says. "Ms. Peterson. She's in the operations center."
Sebastian doesn't want to meet her. He wants to stay in his office and pretend everything isn't falling apart. But he hired her specifically to fix this mess. He's paying her a ridiculous amount of money to find problems he clearly can't see himself.
"Tell her I'll be right there," he says.
He stands up and straightens his tie. He looks at himself in the mirror on his office wall. He looks like a man who's barely holding it together. His hair has more grey than he remembers. His eyes are hollow. When did he get so old?
The elevator ride down to twenty-three feels longer than usual. His mind is racing. What if the consultant finds something? What if there's more fraud than he knows about? What if everything is worse than he thinks?
The operations center is quiet. Most people aren't at their desks yet. The consultant is sitting at a desk surrounded by files. She's focused on her computer screen. She doesn't notice him approach.
Sebastian studies her for a moment. She's professional. Confident. The kind of woman who walks into rooms and makes decisions. She wears glasses. Her hair is pulled back. She carries herself like someone who knows exactly what she's doing.
There's something about her that makes him uncomfortable.
He can't place it. There's a familiarity that doesn't make sense. Has he met her before? Is she someone he should remember? Her focus. Her intensity. The way she leans forward slightly when she's concentrating. All of it feels like something from his past that he can't quite grasp.
"Ms. Peterson," he says.
She looks up immediately. Her eyes meet his and something in him stops. Just for a second. Just long enough to notice.
She stands and extends her hand. They shake. Her grip is firm. Professional. Not cold but not warm either.
"I look forward to working together, Mr. Walsh," she says.
Her voice does something to him. It's familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. He's heard that voice before but where? When? The tone of it. The slight inflection. The way she says his name like she means it.
"Welcome to Walsh Industries," he says, still holding her hand slightly longer than he should. "We need someone like you. The company's a mess and I honestly don't know how it got this way."
"I'll find the problems," she says, pulling her hand away. "That's what I'm good at."
She sits back down and turns to her computer like the conversation is finished. Like he's already dismissed. He's not used to that. People usually try to keep talking to him. People usually want his attention.
She wants to get back to work.
"Take whatever you need," he says. "Access to any files. Any systems. Whatever helps you do the job."
"I'll need complete access," she says without looking at him. "Everything. No restrictions."
Something in her tone makes him pause. She's not asking. She's telling him how this is going to work. She's taking charge and she's not giving him a choice about it.
"Fine," he says. "You have full access."
She nods but still doesn't look at him. She's already looking at her screen again. Reading data. Analyzing numbers. Completely focused on something he doesn't understand.
He should leave. He should go back to his office. He should let her do her job. But he stands there for another moment just watching her work.
She's brilliant. He can see it in how her eyes move across the data. She sees patterns. She sees things that most people would miss. She reminds him of someone. Someone he used to know. Someone who was brilliant with systems and numbers and understanding how companies work.
Someone he can't think about without his stomach twisting.
"Is there something else?" she asks, still not looking up.
"No," he says quickly. "I just... there's something about you. I feel like we've met before."
Now she does look at him. Her eyes meet his and he sees something flash across her face. Something like recognition. Or fear. Or both.
"No," she says carefully. "We haven't met before. You would remember."
The way she says it. The certainty in her voice. Like she's telling him something important that goes beyond the words. Like she's saying something he should understand.
"Right," he says. "Well, let me know if you need anything."
He turns to leave but he's moving slower than he should be. His mind is working overtime trying to place her. Trying to figure out where he knows her from. It's like someone's name on the tip of his tongue. It's there. It's right there. He just can't reach it.
He walks back to the elevator and presses the button for his floor. As he rises, he thinks about her. About the way she looked at him like she was studying a criminal. About the way she said his name. About the way his entire body went on alert when he touched her hand.
He gets to his office and immediately pulls up his phone. He calls Michael.
"Hey man," Michael says. "You okay? You sound weird."
"There's a consultant here," Sebastian says, sitting at his desk. "A woman named Ms. Peterson. Have you ever heard of her?"
"No," Michael says. "Why?"
"Because something about her is wrong. Something about her makes me feel like I'm missing something important."
Michael is quiet for a moment. "You think she's involved in the fraud?"
"No," Sebastian says. "That's not what I mean. I mean I feel like I know her. Like I've seen her before. Like there's something about her that I should remember but I can't."
"Maybe she just has one of those faces," Michael says. "The kind of face that feels familiar because it looks like someone else."
But Sebastian doesn't think that's it. He thinks it's something deeper. Something about the way she looked at him. Like she was looking at someone she was supposed to hate.
His phone buzzes. A text from his wife Victoria.
"Coming home late again? Or should I not expect you?"
He ignores it. Victoria's been sending passive aggressive messages for months. His marriage is falling apart and he doesn't know how to stop it. He's been distant. He's been at the office more. He's been avoiding her because being around her reminds him of everything he's done wrong.
He opens his computer and pulls up files about his company. He wants to know what the consultant is looking at. He wants to understand what she's seeing that he's missing. He scrolls through supply chain documents. Through warehouse reports. Through profit and loss statements.
And then something catches his eye.
A file he doesn't remember creating. A file labeled with his initials. A file that contains evidence of financial crimes. His financial crimes. The evidence he buried years ago. The evidence that proves he committed fraud.
His hands go cold.
The file shouldn't be accessible. He locked it down. He hid it. He made it so nobody could find it. But it's here. Open. Accessible. Like someone just unlocked it.
Someone who has full access to all company systems.
Someone who's sitting in the operations center right now analyzing files.
Someone named Ms. Peterson.
His phone rings. It's the security office. His heart is already pounding before he answers.
"Mr. Walsh," the security guard says. "We're reviewing the access logs for today. The new consultant, Ms. Peterson, she just accessed a restricted file. A file from four years ago. The file contains evidence related to the embezzlement case from back then. The case that was... settled."
Sebastian can't breathe. "Did she open any other files?"
"Not yet sir. But she accessed the main folder. She's definitely looking."
Sebastian hangs up without responding. He stands up and walks to the window. He looks down at the city below. At the streets. At the people moving through their lives like the world isn't falling apart.
The consultant knows something. Or she's looking for something. Either way, she's going to find it. She's going to find the evidence. She's going to expose him.
And somehow, some part of him thinks that's exactly what she came here to do.