Chapter 4

Late into the night, the lights at the firm were still blazing.

"Why? Can someone please tell me why?!"

"The fire department won't sign off! The structural load calculations are flagged! Even the damn facade material specs don't match the thermal models! What the hell do I pay you people for?!"

Mr. Lewis paced back and forth across his office like a caged predator.

"Find out! Dig into every file! Who messed with these drawings?!"

He slammed a thick stack of binders onto his mahogany desk, splashing cold coffee across the expensive rug.

Project manager David stood off to the side, trembling.

"Mr. Lewis, the client gave us an ultimatum. We have three days to provide an acceptable revision, or they terminate the contract.

"And... they also said they'll sue us for breach."

"Incompetent! You're all completely useless!" Mr. Lewis kicked the leather couch.

"On a thirty-million-dollar contract, do you have any idea what the penalty clause looks like?! Six million dollars! Six million!

"We have dozens of people in the design department! Not a single one of you can spot what's wrong with these blueprints?!"

"Mr. Lewis, these quirks are buried deep inside the layering. Standard code-checking software doesn't flag them."

"I don't care where they're buried! Fix it right now!"

David hesitated, swallowing hard before forcing the words out.

"The engineering team said they can't untangle it. Unless... unless we bring back the original lead designer."

The office dropped into dead silence.

Mr. Lewis’s face flushed red, drained pale, and then shifted to a sickly gray.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and Mia rushed in, out of breath.

"Mr. Lewis, we have a major problem! The Department of Labor just called. Someone filed a formal complaint against us for wage theft and labor violations. We're ordered to appear for an investigation tomorrow morning!"

Mr. Lewis’s knees buckled, and he collapsed heavily into his executive chair.

His hand shook so violently that he couldn't even lift his water glass.

"And..." Mia’s voice dropped to a whisper, "the IRS called too. They received a whistle-blower report and are initiating an audit on our accounts."

"Get out! Get the hell out of my office!" Mr. Lewis roared, sweeping everything off his desk in a blind rage.

David and Mia scrambled out, shutting the heavy door behind them just as a muffled scream echoed from inside.

Slumped in his chair, cold sweat soaked through Mr. Lewis’s shirt.

Suddenly, Chris’s parting words rang in his ears like a death knell:

*No matter who you are, taking the hit is a real blessing.*

At the time, he had written it off as the pathetic surrender of a broke kid.

Looking back now, that icy, deliberate tone was nothing short of a declaration of war!

"Find him! Track him down this second!"

Clutching at straws, Mr. Lewis wrenched the door open and bellowed down the hallway at David and Mia.

"I don't care how much it costs! Get him back here to fix these damn plans!"

Mia wrung her hands. "Mr. Lewis, his phone won't connect, and he blocked all of us on SnapChat..."

"Then drive to his apartment! Doesn't HR have his residential address?! Go right now!" Mr. Lewis barked. "Drag him back here by the collar if you have to!"