Ella
The letter came from Lucas Bennett two weeks after the gala, delivered in person rather than by email, which told me before I'd even opened the file that whatever he'd found was too sensitive to trust to a server.
"The forensic accountant finished the deep trace," Lucas said, laying three folders across the study table where Kylian and I had spent most of the last month reviewing acquisition contracts. "This is the part I couldn't put in writing."
I opened the first folder. Pages of transaction records, dates and figures that meant little to me at a glance, until Lucas leaned over and started tracing a line with one finger from an entry three years back through a chain of shell companies I would never have been able to follow on my own.
"Nearly six million dollars," he said. "Dive
