The alert came through just after noon.
Ryan was seated behind his desk, jacket folded neatly over the back of his chair, sleeves rolled up as he worked through reports that no longer held the authority they once had. His phone vibrated once, short, sharp, unmistakable. He glanced at the screen without much expectation.
Then he stilled.
Transfer confirmed: $1,800,000.00
For a moment, he didn’t move. He simply stared at the numbers, the finality of them settling slowly in his chest like a deep exhale he hadn’t realised he was holding.
Kimberly had returned the money.
All of it.
“Finally,” he murmured under his breath.
He set the phone down carefully, as though the device itself had suddenly become fragile. Relief wasn’t the right word. Satisfaction, perhaps, but tempered. Controlled
