Corrupt(88)

“Oh, um…” I stammered, digging in my school bag for my wallet and taking out another card. “Here. Maybe you should try.” I smiled. “I’m probably doing something wrong.”

Which was a ridiculous notion. I was a skilled shopper and a proud graduate of the Christiane Fane and Delia Crist University of How To Spend Money. I knew how to use a damn card.

She swiped it and waited a moment before handing it back to me and shaking her head. “Sorry, hon.”

My heart dropped in my stomach. “What? Are you sure your machine’s working?”

She hooded her eyes, looking at me like she’d heard that one before.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted out, completely baffled. “This is just so weird.”

“It happens.” She shrugged. “Struggling college student and all. We have an ATM over there if you’d like me to hold the books.”

She pointed to the windows behind me, and I saw the machine sitting in the bookshop’s café area.

“Thank you,” I said, leaving the bag with her and walking briskly over to the ATM.

How could my cards not be working? I’d had one since I was sixteen and started driving. When I left for college, my mother let me get one in my own name to build credit. I also had my debit card, but our accountant preferred I use that for food and gas only to track my expenses a little better.

I’d never had a problem with any of them. Ever.

I swallowed the dryness in my mouth and slipped my card into the machine, punching in my PIN. I went to hit Withdraw, but I stopped, thinking better of it. I hit Account Balance instead, and my heart immediately thundered in my chest.

Zero.

“What?” I burst out, tears stinging behind my eyes at seeing my checking account balance. “This isn’t right. It can’t be.”

I began pushing buttons, my hands shaking as I went back out and checked the balance of my savings account instead.

That balance also read zero.

I shook my head, tears pooling. “No. What the hell is going on?”

Grabbing my card out of the machine, I stormed out of the bookstore, leaving the books behind, and charged down the street. I rushed home as a thousand knots tightened in my stomach.

One card not working? Fine. None of my cards working and my bank account empty? My mind was racing.

Was the jewelry shop in trouble? Had our accountant not paid our taxes and our accounts were now frozen? Had we been in debt?

As far as I knew everything had always been fine. Mr. Crist had handled the business and properties, and whenever I talked to the accountant, our finances were in great shape.

I dug my phone out again and dialed our family’s accountant, who also handled the Crists’ accounts, but all I got was a message that he was gone for the weekend.

I continued down the street, sweat breaking out across my back as I tried dialing my mother, Mrs. Crist, and even Trevor. I needed to know how to get in touch with someone that could help.

But no one was answering. What the f*ck is going on? Why can’t I get a hold of anyone?

Richard, the doorman, saw me approach and immediately held open the front door of Delcour. I whisked through, ignoring his hello and making straight for the elevator.

Once I got upstairs and in my apartment, I dumped my bag and started up my laptop to log into my accounts. I couldn’t wait until everyone was back in the office on Monday. I needed to find out what the hell was going on now.

As I brought the Internet up, I dialed Mr. Crist’s office, knowing he worked late and that his assistant would most likely still be there as well. It was only just after six.

“Hello?” I rushed out, cutting off the woman as she answered the phone. “Stella, this is Rika. Is Mr. Crist in? It’s urgent.”

“No, I’m sorry, Rika,” she replied. “He left for Europe a few days ago to join Mrs. Crist. Can I leave a message for him?”

I dropped my head in my hand, gripping my hair in frustration. “No, I…” Tears started to spill. “I need to know what’s going on. Something’s happened with my accounts. I don’t have any money. None of my credit cards work!”

“Oh, dear,” she burst out, sounding a little more concerned now. “Well, have you talked to Michael?”

“Why would I talk to Michael?”

“Because Mr. Crist transferred power of attorney over to him late last week,” she pointed out as if I should’ve known. “Michael is currently in charge of everything until you graduate.”

I stilled, my eyes widening.

Michael? He controlled everything now?

I shook my head. No.

“Rika?” Stella asked when I didn’t say anything.

But I dropped the phone away from my ear and ended the call.

Tightening my fingers around the cell, I hardened my eyes and clenched my f*cking jaw so hard my teeth ached.

All the money my father left us. All the money we earned from our property and the shop. He had the deeds to everything!

I darted my hands out, swiping the laptop off the island and pushing it to the floor where it tumbled and crashed.

“No!” I screamed.

My stomach rolled, and I felt sick. What the hell was he doing? I knew it was him, but why?

I wiped away my tears, anger charging through my veins now. I didn’t care. Whatever he was up to and why he did it, God, I didn’t care.