Marley's POV
When I checked the time on my wristwatch, it was 8:47pm.
Most of the floor workers had emptied out hours ago, leaving me in a quiet building, except the low humming sound coming from the air conditioner.
I leaned back in my leather chair, staring at the glowing screen filled with rows of damning numbers. Marketing department, transportation expenses inflated, vendor payments, all of them hidden in fake, shell accounts.
It was sloppy work, very sloppy. But effective enough to siphon off nearly two hundred grand over six months. And it all traced back to one woman.
Mara Thompson. Team lead. Married and in her early thirties.
I can't lie, Mara is a very beautiful woman. She turns heads in the hallway without trying, always on tight pencil skirts hugging her hips, silk b
