ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY THREE

Dante sat across from Mr. Michael in a small, dark quiet café, trying to find words for what he was about to say. He knew that the news he was about to share was going to disrupt him.

Michael looked anxious, his fingers tapping nervously on the table, waiting for Dante to say something. He could tell from Dante’s serious expression that something was wrong. Dante cleared his throat and leaned forward, lowering his voice. "Mr. Michael, we’ve got a problem," he began, choosing his words carefully. "Harvey’s starting to notice the missing funds." Michael’s eyes widened in shock. "What? How? I thought we were careful!" “I was," Dante assured him, though there was a hint of frustration in his voice. "But you know how it is—money doesn’t just disappear without someone eventually noticing. Harvey’s been snooping around, trying to figure out where the money is going." Michael felt a cold sweat break out on his forehead. He knew this day might come, but he hadn’t expected it so soon. "What doe
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