The day my cousin reported me to the IRS, the whole family applauded him. My aunt sent a voice text to the family group chat: "Brian did the right thing! It's time we find out just how much dirty money Chloe has really been making!" A row of thumbs-up emojis followed below. My mom didn't hit "like," but she didn't say anything to defend me, either. I stared at the chat, then put my phone face down on the table. I opened my laptop and typed a quick message to my accountant: "Sarah, that audit report we discussed? Let’s finalize it now. I’m going to need it." Chapter 1 My name is Chloe Vance. I’m thirty-two years old. I own a food trading company specializing in sourcing regional specialty goods for online distribution. It’s not a massive empire. But I employ twelve people, and I consistently pay around half a million dollars in taxes every year. In our modest suburban town, I’m doing pretty well for myself. But within my family, my business was never worth mentioning. The only one worth talking about was my cousin. Brian Walsh. My aunt Brenda’s only son. Three years older than me. Growing up, every good thing in our family revolved around him. During Christmas, my grandma would slip us cash. Fifty bucks for me and my sister. Two hundred for Brian. "Brian’s a boy," Grandma would say. "He’s going to carry the family name." In school, I ranked third in the entire district. No one mentioned it at Sunday dinner. Brian barely scraped through a two-year community college program, and my aunt threw a massive party for the whole family. "Our Brian is a college man now!" My mom sat there, smiling and nodding. "Yes, Brian is really making something of himself." I kept my head down and ate, saying nothing. Things like this happened too often for me to find them strange. In our family, Brian was the sun. The rest of us were just background noise. After college, I didn't take a dime from my parents. I worked three jobs in the city for three years, saved up fifteen thousand dollars, came back home, and started my first online store. I went from packing boxes by myself to registering a corporation, renting a warehouse, and hiring staff. In five years, I built it up to three million in annual revenue. No one helped me. No one invested in me. My parents didn't even really know what my company actually did. But they did know one thing—I was making money. And once I was making money, I was useful. "Chloe, your cousin wants to start a business. You should lend him some cash." That was the first time my mom ever proactively called me to talk about money. "How much?" "Fifty thousand." I was silent for five seconds. "Mom, fifty thousand is not a small amount of money." "We're family. Your cousin isn't going to stiff you. Your aunt said he’d pay it back in six months." I didn't say anything. "You make so much every month; fifty thousand shouldn't be a big deal to you, right?" That last sentence is what made me agree. Not because fifty thousand wasn't a big deal. But because my mom had never "needed" me like that before. Fifty thousand. Transferred. No promissory note. Because my mom said, "Why write a note? It ruins the family dynamic." That was two years ago. He hasn't paid back a single cent. I brought it up once. My aunt snapped over the phone, "Brian just started his business; cash flow is tight. You're a big CEO. Pressing family for this kind of money? How embarrassing would it be if people found out?" I never brought it up again. But I remembered it. Every year, my accountant, Sarah, does a full internal audit. Sarah was my college roommate, a certified public accountant with her own firm now. She has handled my books since the day I incorporated. "Chloe, your tax compliance is tighter than many major corporations," she tells me every year. "I don't dare let it be otherwise," I’d laugh. "I’m a small business owner. I can't afford an audit." That phrase eventually became my ace in the hole. What I didn't know was that I would be forced to play that ace very soon. Chapter 2 My cousin's "entrepreneurial journey" lasted eighteen months. He opened a bubble tea shop. Closed in three months. Then he started a food truck. Closed in five. Later, he claimed he wanted to get into e-commerce. "Learning from Chloe! If she can do it, so can I!" My aunt slammed her hand on the table at Sunday dinner when she said that, her face full of pride. I just smiled and didn't reply. I didn't want to discourage him. But e-commerce isn't something you can do just by reading a couple of articles online. Brian's e-commerce venture failed, too. He put thirty thousand dollars into it. Lost it. All of it. My aunt came to me again. "Chloe, you have to help Brian." "Aunt Brenda, he still hasn't paid back the fifty thousand from last time." My aunt's expression shifted. "You child, how can you talk like that? Is your cousin a stranger?" "He’s not a stranger, but fifty thousand dollars is fifty thousand dollars." My aunt looked at my mom. My mom coughed. "Chloe, don't speak to your aunt that way." I kept quiet. That dinner was very silent. On the drive back, my mom finally spoke. "Your cousin is still your aunt’s son, after all. Whether you help or not is one thing, but you can't have that kind of attitude." "Mom, fifty thousand wasn't repaid." "We’ll talk about money later. You made your aunt lose face. How are relatives supposed to interact after that?" I gripped the steering wheel, saying nothing. In our family, "face" was more important than fifty thousand dollars. My aunt's pride was more important than my money. A few months later, the family dynamic began to shift. I don't know who started it, but the relatives began whispering behind my back. "Chloe made some money, and she’s changed." "Won't even help her own cousin. Too cold-blooded." "I heard her company is doing pretty well. What’s the harm in helping a little?" These words reached my ears through my aunt Sarah—my dad's younger sister, the only one who actually treated me with genuine kindness. "Chloe, don't take it to heart," Aunt Sarah said over the phone. "But be careful. Your cousin... he’s saying some nasty things lately." "What’s he saying?" Aunt Sarah hesitated. "He’s saying your company’s books are dirty. Claiming you're guilty of tax fraud." I was stunned. "He says he has proof." "What proof?" "I'm not sure. But he’s said it in front of several relatives." I hung up. I sat in my office, staring out the window. My cousin had been this way since we were kids. If he couldn't have something, he wanted to destroy it. I called my accountant. "Sarah, I need you to do a full internal tax audit for me. Check everything." "What’s wrong?" "Someone might be trying to screw me over." Sarah was silent for two seconds. "Okay. I’ll start this week." After hanging up, I did one more thing. I had my company's IT guy restrict the access permissions for the security cameras in the main office and the accounting room. Now, I was the only one who could view them. My gut told me my cousin wouldn't just stop at talking. Chapter 3 The family Easter dinner was hosted by my aunt Brenda. Over thirty people, three large tables. I arrived last. The moment I walked in, my aunt’s smile was forced. "Chloe’s here." "Hi, Aunt Brenda." "Busy, I assume? Being the big CEO and all." She said it with a nasty edge, but everyone in the room laughed. I recognized that laugh. A little bit of brown-nosed brown-nosing, a little bit of jealousy, a little bit of schadenfreude. I found a seat and sat down. Brian was sitting at the main table, drinking, his voice loud. "Let me tell you, what’s the most important thing in business?" No one answered. "Connections! Without connections, you can't do anything!" He glanced at me. "Some people just get lucky and ride a wave. But luck doesn't last forever." I kept my head down and ate. My aunt chimed in. "Exactly. Could Chloe have built her business without our family’s connections? The year she came back, who helped her get her first batch of customers?" I put down my fork. "Aunt Brenda, I found my first batch of customers on my own by sourcing suppliers online. No one introduced me to anyone." The table went silent for a second. My aunt's face twisted. "What I meant was—" "Aunt Brenda, I know what you meant." I smiled. "But facts are facts. My customer list is right there; you can ask them yourself." No one said anything. Brian picked up his glass and snorted. "Fine, fine. My dear cousin is successful, and the rest of us are losers, alright?" I ignored him. But I noticed one thing. Brian's phone screen lit up. A text notification popped up. I caught four words. "Materials received." I couldn't see the sender’s name. But my heart did a little flip. What materials? Chapter 4 The week after Easter. I was at the office, taking inventory of orders. My phone rang. An unknown number. "Hello, is this Ms. Chloe Vance?" "Yes." "This is Agent Miller from the IRS. We received a report regarding your company that needs verification. Would you be available for a meeting?" My hand stopped. "What is the nature of the report?" "Allegations that your company has evaded approximately fifty thousand dollars in taxes." Fifty thousand. Not a penny more, not a penny less. Fifty thousand. "Certainly. When would you like to come in?" "The day after tomorrow, in the morning." "Sounds good. I’ll have all the documents ready." I hung up the phone and leaned back against my chair. It was here. It really was here. I opened the family group text. I scrolled up a bit. My aunt had sent a message yesterday: "Some people are being dishonest in business lately. It’s only a matter of time before they get caught." Four likes below. I took a screenshot. Then I opened my security system and pulled up the footage from the week before Easter. The picture was crystal clear. The Tuesday before Easter, 8:30 PM. My cousin used the spare key my uncle gave him to enter the office. He didn't know I had upgraded the cameras. He opened the filing cabinet in the accounting room. He rummaged through it for fifteen minutes. He took three documents. Sales contracts. Purchase invoices. Partial bank statements. Then he left the same way he came in. I watched the security footage. I watched it three times. Fifty thousand lent and never repaid. Talking trash behind my back. Stealing company documents. Reporting me for tax evasion. Okay. Good. Very good. I picked up the phone and called Sarah. "Is the audit report finalized?" "It’s done. Total compliance. You paid three million and twelve thousand in taxes last year, which is actually an overpayment of forty-six hundred dollars—the overpayment was due to a return in the third quarter that wasn't adjusted in time." "An overpayment of forty-six hundred?" "Yes. The IRS actually owes you money." I laughed. "Sarah, print out two extra copies of that report." "What for?" "A gift."
? Continue the story here ?? ? Download the "MotoNovel" app ? search for "395327", and watch the full series ✨! #MotoNovel