The morning air smelled like dust and diesel fumes. Sandra arrived early—before most of the executive floor was even lit—and slid quietly into her seat beside James's glass office.
The desk was clean. The files she'd left behind the night before had been stacked and untouched. James hadn't come in yet. Or if he had, he hadn't passed through the usual path.
She opened the inbox and began her review of the day's scheduled items.
There was a strange entry near the bottom of the agenda.
Vendor Verification – Mukono Power Project
Assigned: Finance crosscheck
Internal Note: Signed off by V.O.
V.O.
Victor Oryem.
She frowned slightly. The note wasn't supposed to be there. Vendor verification was handled by the procurement unit. Not her. Not finance. Not directly.
Still, she didn't want to question too much.
Not yet.
She clicked it open and scanned the details.
Three vendor bids. One approved. One rejected. One withdrawn.
And something didn't add up.
---
The company listed as "approved" had a tax number that didn't match the registry records. She confirmed it twice. Once in the system, and again on the URA website.
She leaned back slowly in her chair.
It could be a typo.
But it wasn't.
The name of the rejected vendor — a smaller firm based in Bugolobi — matched all records. Their quote had been lower, too.
She clicked back to the approval document.
There it was.
Victor's signature. Digitally stamped.
She saved the file. Quietly.
And then she sat back.
Her heart was beating faster than it should.
---
Downstairs, in the operations wing, Victor leaned back in his office chair with a slight smirk on his face.
He had already heard the rumors.
Sandra had been poking into files above her clearance.
He liked that.
Smart girls made for sharper games.
He opened his phone and sent a message.
> "Shinta. She's sniffing. Time to distract."
The reply came seconds later.
> "Don't worry. I'll handle her."
Victor put his phone down and stared at the ceiling.
He had time.
Time to break her carefully.
---
James arrived just after 9 a.m.
He looked tired, which was unusual.
Shirt sleeves slightly rumpled. No tie.
Sandra stood when he passed, but he didn't look at her. He walked straight into his office and shut the door quietly behind him.
The silence felt heavy.
She took a breath, opened her email again, and reread the file.
She had options.
She could bring it up to procurement.
She could ignore it.
Or…
She stood and knocked once on his door.
"Come in."
He didn't sound cold. Just far away.
She entered and placed the printed file on his desk.
"I found something strange in today's internal memo," she said softly. "I thought you should see it first."
James looked at the document.
Then at her.
Then back at the page.
He read it twice.
Then slowly leaned back in his chair.
His face didn't change.
But his voice did.
"Where did you get this?"
"It came in the shared cross-check file. My dashboard had access."
He nodded once.
"You did well."
She almost relaxed.
But then he added, "From now on, don't discuss this with anyone. Not even Immy."
Sandra blinked.
He had never brought her cousin into any conversation before.
"I understand," she said.
James nodded again.
"Good."
Then he looked out the window.
But his jaw was clenched.
And she could tell.
He was angry.
---
Victor entered the conference lounge at 11 a.m., holding his usual coffee mug and fake confidence. Sandra was seated at the far end of the room, compiling minutes from the last project launch.
He smiled as he approached.
"Morning," he said, like they were old friends.
She looked up politely. "Morning."
"I heard you've been looking at files."
She froze.
He sat beside her.
"You're smart," he said softly. "But be careful. Smart people go missing in this company."
Sandra met his eyes.
"I'm not afraid of work."
"You should be afraid of shadows," Victor replied. "Especially the ones that stand behind you."
She closed the laptop.
"I have nothing to hide."
Victor smiled again.
"No," he said, "but maybe someone else does."
Then he stood and walked away.
That evening, Sandra sat in her room, staring at her notes.
Immy came in with a plate of food.
"You're not eating?"
"I'm not hungry."
"You've been weird since yesterday."
Sandra didn't speak.
Immy placed the food down and sat on the bed.
"You like him."
Sandra blinked.
"James," Immy said plainly. "You like him."
Sandra looked away. "He's not the problem."
"Then what is?"
"Victor."
Immy frowned. "What about him?"
"I think something is wrong."
Immy sat straighter. "You think he's corrupt?"
Sandra hesitated. "I don't know yet."
"But you're scared."
Sandra nodded.
"Then tell James."
"I already did."
Immy stared at her.
Then whispered, "Be careful, Sandra. Men like Victor don't like losing. And they don't fight fair."
The next morning, Sandra was summoned to the 12th floor.
Private office. Empty wing.
Only one person ever called people there.
James.
She found him standing near the window. A file in hand.
He didn't greet her.
He simply turned.
"You were right. The vendor isn't legitimate. The tax ID belongs to a shell company. Created six months ago."
Sandra swallowed. "Does that mean—?"
"Yes," James said. "Someone inside helped them pass through."
He handed her the file.
"This stays between us."
She nodded slowly.
"I'm sorry."
He shook his head.
"No. Don't apologize. You're the first person who's seen what I missed."
Then, softer:
"Thank you."
Later that day, Victor stood at the far end of the finance corridor, watching Sandra speak quietly to a junior analyst.
His smile returned.
She didn't know it yet.
But the game had changed.
He sent a message to someone outside the company.
> "Phase one failed. Moving to plan B."
The reply was immediate.
> "Use her."
Victor's eyes narrowed.
And he watched her.
Not like a colleague.
Like a hunter waiting for the perfect moment.
And when she laughed at something the analyst said?
He clenched his fist.
Because he knew.
She wasn't his.
But if he couldn't control her…
He'd break her.