Page 31 of You Owe Me (21 Rumors #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Rumor has it, she found a smoking gun.

Ainsley

“Jin,” I say softly, not wanting to startle him into accidentally launching a cyber attack on the Pentagon or something equally dramatic.

His fingers freeze over the keyboard. He doesn’t turn around immediately, just sits there, like maybe if he ignores me, I’ll disappear into the ether, where normal girlfriend problems belong.

“You came back.” He’s still facing his screens. “I was hoping you wouldn’t.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” I pull up a chair beside him, noting the impressive collection of Red Bull cans that have accumulated since my last visit. “You find something or not?”

“I found something.” His voice is flat, exhausted. “The question is whether you want to know what it is.”

My stomach does that thing where it feels like it’s trying to escape through my throat. “That bad?”

Jin finally turns to look at me, and good gracious, he looks like he’s been through a blender.

His hair is somehow even more chaotic than usual, there are dark circles under his eyes that could probably be seen from space, and his hoodie has suspicious stains that could be coffee or evidence of a complete psychological breakdown.

“It’s not bad. It’s worse. Because now I know exactly why Carter Mills wanted you to stay away from Maverick’s business.”

“Enlightening,” I mutter. “Are you going to tell me, or should I guess?”

He reaches for his mouse and clicks through what looks like seventeen different windows before landing on a document that makes my brain hurt just by looking at it. Numbers, dates, names—the kind of bureaucratic nightmare that probably makes accountants weep.

“Academic probation records.” He gestures at the screen. “Specifically, Carter Mills’s academic probation records.”

I blink at him. “Carter’s been on academic probation?”

“Not just probation. Suspension. Twice.” Jin’s fingers dance across the keyboard, pulling up more documents. “First time was sophomore year. Plagiarism. Got caught copying an entire economics paper from some kid.”

“And the second time?”

“Sophomore year. Cheating on his corporate finance final. Had the answers written on the inside of his calculator cover.” Jin snorts like this is the most amateur-hour thing he’s ever heard. “Dumbass didn’t even try to be subtle about it.”

My brain is trying to process this information while simultaneously trying not to have a full-scale panic attack. “But he’s still here. Still the dean’s son with the perfect record and the insufferable confidence.”

“That’s where it gets interesting.” Jin clicks through to another document, this one with the university letterhead.

“Both times, the disciplinary actions got… modified. Probation instead of suspension. Academic support instead of expulsion. Very lenient, considering the severity of the infractions.”

“Let me guess—Daddy pulled some strings?”

“More like Daddy pulled a whole damn piano.” Jin’s expression is grim. “Dean Mills personally intervened in both cases. Claimed his son was dealing with ‘personal stress’ and ‘adjustment issues’ that warranted special consideration.”

I stare at the screen, pieces clicking together in my head like the world’s most fucked-up puzzle. “So Carter’s been cheating his way through college while his father covers it up.”

“Gets better.” Jin opens another window, and this time, I recognize the interface—it’s the university’s internal communications system.

“I may have also found some emails between Dean Mills and various department heads about ‘academic flexibility’ for students dealing with ‘exceptional family circumstances.’”

“Please tell me you’re about to say what I think you’re about to say.”

“Carter Mills isn’t just a cheater; he’s a serial cheater whose entire academic career has been propped up by his father’s position. And I have documentation going back three years.”

The relief that floods through me is so intense I actually feel dizzy. “Jin, you beautiful, sleep-deprived genius?—”

“I’m not done.” He holds up a hand, and his expression turns serious. “There’s more. And this part… this part you’re really not going to like.”

My stomach drops again. “What kind of more?”

Jin minimizes the academic records and opens what looks like a financial database. “I also found records of Carter’s ‘anonymous’ tip to the IRS about your boyfriend’s family.”

“How is that possible? Anonymous tips are supposed to be?—”

“Anonymous, yeah. Except Carter’s an idiot who submitted it from his personal laptop while connected to the university’s Wi-Fi network.

” Jin’s fingers fly across the keyboard, pulling up network logs that look like computer hieroglyphics.

“Every connection gets logged. Every IP address gets tracked. And Carter Mills’s laptop has been very busy this week. ”

He scrolls through a list of websites and timestamps that tell a story I definitely don’t want to hear.

“Tuesday morning, 9:47 a.m.—IRS tip submission portal. Tuesday afternoon, 2:15 p.m.—background check service for ‘Maverick Lexington.’ Wednesday morning, 6:23 a.m.—another IRS tip submission, this one about ‘potential student loan fraud.’” Jin looks at me with something that might be sympathy.

“He’s not just threatening your boyfriend, Ainsley. He’s actively trying to destroy him.”

The room tilts slightly, and I have to grip the edge of the desk to keep from sliding off my chair. “Student loan fraud?”

“Probably bullshit, but the IRS doesn’t know that. They just know someone keeps sending them tips about the same family, and they’re starting to pay attention.”

This is worse than I thought. Carter isn’t just using the IRS investigation as leverage; he’s building a case. Multiple tips, multiple angles of attack, all designed to create the kind of federal scrutiny that could destroy everything Maverick’s family has built.

“But you said there was good news,” I manage to croak out. “The academic stuff—that’s leverage, right? Something I can use against him?”

“Maybe.” Jin doesn’t look convinced. “The problem is, using this information would require admitting how I got it. And admitting how I got it would involve confessing to some very illegal activities that would probably get both of us expelled and possibly arrested.”

“There has to be something,” I say desperately. “Some way to use this without admitting where it came from.”

Jin is quiet for a long moment, staring at the screen like it might reveal some magical solution. Then, slowly, he reaches for his mouse and clicks through to yet another window.

“There might be one thing, but it’s risky as hell, and if it goes wrong, we’re both fucked.”

“I’m already fucked. Tell me.”

He pulls up what looks like an email draft. “Carter’s been sloppy about his digital security lately. Probably thinks being the dean’s son makes him untouchable. His university email account has been automatically syncing to a cloud backup service.”

“And?”

“And that cloud backup service has some very interesting emails about his ‘study group’ activities.” Jin clicks through to a folder labeled “Academic Support,” and my eyes widen as I see the contents.

Email after email between Carter and other students. Discussions about “shared resources” and “collaborative problem-solving” that are clearly code for organized cheating. Payment schedules for “tutoring services” that look suspiciously like purchase orders for completed assignments.

“This is a whole operation,” I breathe.

“A whole operation that his father has been covering up for years,” Jin confirms. “And the best part? These emails are all stored on university servers. Technically, they’re discoverable through normal administrative processes.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning if someone were to file a formal academic integrity complaint against Carter Mills, the investigation would naturally uncover these emails through legitimate channels. No hacking required.”

I stare at him, understanding dawning. “You want me to turn him in for cheating.”

“I want you to give the university a reason to look at his records officially. Once they start digging, they’ll find everything—the plagiarism, the exam cheating, the organized academic fraud ring he’s been running. And they’ll find it all through proper channels.”

“That’ll destroy his academic career.”

“Exactly.” Jin’s smile is sharp. “Kind of hard to blackmail people about IRS investigations when you’re facing expulsion for academic fraud.”

The beautiful, terrible simplicity of it hits me like a truck.

Carter’s been using his father’s position and his own carefully cultivated reputation as weapons against Maverick.

But if that reputation gets destroyed—if he’s exposed as a serial cheater who’s been propped up by nepotism—then his threats lose all their power.

“How do I file a complaint without it being traced back to me?”

“You don’t.” Jin’s expression is serious now. “This has to come from someone with standing—another student who’s been affected by his cheating, or a faculty member who’s observed misconduct. But…”

“But?”

“But sometimes academic integrity violations get reported by multiple sources simultaneously. Funny how these things work out.”

I stare at him, understanding. Jin can’t file the complaint himself—too risky, too connected to the hacking. But he can make sure the right people find the right information at the right time.

“How long would this take?”

“Academic integrity investigations move fast when there’s clear evidence. Maybe a week, two at most.” Jin leans back in his chair, looking exhausted but satisfied. “The question is whether you can keep Carter distracted that long.”

A week. Seven days of pretending to cooperate with Carter’s demands while the university’s disciplinary machinery grinds him into academic dust. Seven days of lying to Maverick while watching his family face federal scrutiny they don’t deserve.

It’s not perfect. It’s risky as hell, and if anything goes wrong, I’ll be the one facing expulsion while Carter walks away clean.

But it’s something. Finally, after days of feeling completely powerless, I have something that might actually work.

“Do it,” I say.

Jin nods once, then turns back to his computer. “It’ll take me a few hours to set up the anonymous tips to the right faculty members. By tomorrow morning, Carter Mills is going to have much bigger problems than your boyfriend’s IOU system.”

I stand up, feeling lighter than I have in days. “Jin?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For all of this. I know it was risky.”

He shrugs without looking away from his screen.

Ok, then. Guess that means I’m dismissed.

I’m halfway to the door when he calls my name again.

“Ainsley?”

I turn back.

“Whatever Carter threatened you with—the IRS stuff, the family business—it’s all real. The investigation is happening, and it’s going to be thorough.” His expression is grave. “This might stop him from making it worse, but it won’t make the existing problems go away.”

The temporary relief I was feeling evaporates instantly. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying you should probably warn Maverick about what’s coming. Because even if we destroy Carter’s credibility, those federal investigators are already asking questions.”

My stomach drops back into that familiar knot of terror. “How long do we have?”

“Hard to say. Federal investigations move on their own timeline. Could be weeks, could be months.” Jin’s fingers are already flying across the keyboard again, probably covering our digital tracks.

“But Ainsley? If there’s anything in that family business that wouldn’t survive scrutiny—anything at all—now would be a good time to figure out how to fix it. ”

I nod, even though he’s not looking at me anymore, and push through the door into the hallway. The morning light streaming through the windows feels too bright, too optimistic for the conversation I’m going to have to have with Maverick.

Because Jin’s right. Even if we destroy Carter, the damage is already done. The IRS investigation is real, and it’s going to uncover everything—every shortcut Maverick’s taken, every gray area he’s operated in, every secret he’s kept to protect the people he loves.

I pull out my phone to text him, then stop.

How do you tell someone that the life they’ve built is about to be examined under a federal microscope? How do you explain that their family’s financial future depends on whether their business practices can survive the kind of scrutiny that destroys people?

How do you tell the person you love most in the world that you might have just saved them from one enemy only to expose them to something much, much worse?