CHAPTER 2: THE UNRAVELING
“What the hell is this?” Nolan snapped, stepping back as if the sound itself had burned him.
I said nothing.
Another recording played.
Celeste’s voice this time.
“Transfer it through Mercer Holdings. The shell contractors are clean. No one will trace it back.”
Gasps broke out across the ballroom.
Business partners exchanged looks. Investors whispered urgently. Phones began to rise—recording everything.
Nolan lunged toward me. “Turn it off!”
Security stepped in.
Not his.
Mine.
My father moved forward at last, his voice steady and lethal. “Don’t.”
Nolan froze.
The third file began.
Numbers. Transactions. Dates.
Projected now across a massive screen behind the altar.
Millions.
Laundered.
Stolen.
Hidden.
“Every transaction has been traced,” I said, my voice carrying through the stunned crowd. “Every shell company identified. Every illegal transfer documented.”
May you like
Celeste dropped her glass.
It shattered like everything she’d built.
