Chapter 8: Fake Invoices, Leaving No Trace

Three days later, Eileen received a brown envelope.

The sender was Liam.

She opened it.

Inside was a thick stack of documents.

Project loss statements.

Supplier compensation records.

Termination agreements from business partners.

Photocopies covered in official-looking stamps.

Every page claimed the same thing:

The funds had been invested into the project, but were lost due to market conditions.

At the end was a letter in messy handwriting.

“Eileen, here are the accounts you wanted.”

“Every expense from the project’s launch to its collapse is documented.”

“Stop making unreasonable demands.”

“Let’s part on good terms.”

Eileen spread the documents across the table and examined them page by page.

The first page:

Server procurement, $80,000.

The second page:

Office security deposit, $60,000.

The third page:

Third-party research and development fees, $110,000.

The numbers were neat.

The descriptions looked legitimate.

Even the documents carried the seals of supposed partner companies.

She studied them for half an hour.

Then her gaze stopped.

On the third page, the “third-party R&D agreement” listed a registration number beside the company’s name.

She opened her laptop and entered the registration number.

The result appeared.

She froze.

The “R&D company” had been established only one month earlier.

But Liam had received the money two months earlier.

How could a company that did not even exist at the time have signed a contract?

She followed the registration records.

The listed legal representative was Robert King.

She searched his name.

Three years earlier, he had been prosecuted for contract fraud and received a suspended sentence.

One con artist acting as the “business partner” of another.

Eileen wrote down the lead and saved it to her evidence folder.

Then she checked the second document.

Supplier compensation record.

The supplier was called Nova Tech.

Its registered address was listed as a street in San Francisco.

She opened the map and zoomed in.

The address belonged to a laundromat.

Eileen leaned back in her chair.

Then she suddenly burst out laughing.

She laughed for a long time.

She laughed until tears nearly filled her eyes.

Finally, she understood.

What Liam had sent her was not a set of financial records.

It was an entire collection of jokes.

Jokes full of holes.

She scanned every document into her computer.

Then created another folder.

Evidence of Forged Accounts.

After that, she made two phone calls.

The first was to the bank.

She requested complete transaction records for the transfers.

The second was to an old classmate who now worked in financial auditing.

She asked her to verify the documents line by line.

“What are you trying to do?”

Her old classmate asked.

“I’m clearing my name.”

Eileen replied.

Then she made another call.

“Hello?”

Her voice was calm.

“I need a lawyer who handles commercial fraud.”

The person on the other end paused.

“Eileen?”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

She said,

“Help me find the best one.”

After hanging up, she placed the stack of fake accounts into the safe.

She put them together with the contract, transaction records, and audio recordings.

Ten years of friendship.

It ended here.

She realized she was no longer looking for an explanation.

She wanted everything Liam had given her—

The humiliation.

The lies.

The forged documents.

One by one, she was going to return them all.

Outside, the Silicon Valley sunlight was bright.

She pulled open the curtains and narrowed her eyes at the sun.

“Liam.”

She whispered,

“The game has begun.”