CHAPTER 2: FORENSIC ACCOUNTING
Three nights before the dinner, Julian had made a fatal mistake: he left his encrypted tablet unlocked on the nightstand.
A pop-up notification from Eleanor had flashed across the screen:
Transfer the final payment before Clara discovers the lien. Once we secure the estate, we’ll dissolve the foundation and leave her with the debt.
They had forged my signature, used the inherited estate my father had left me as collateral, and funneled stolen investor capital into shell accounts in Zurich secretly registered under Eleanor's name.
They assumed I wouldn't understand complex financial transfers. They forgot that my father was Arthur Vance—a legendary forensic accountant who had spent twelve years teaching me how to hunt dirty money through international ledgers before his sudden death eight years ago.
For three straight nights, while Julian slept, I copied every encrypted ledger, mapped their shell networks, and routed the files directly to my father’s former business partner—now a senior director at the State Financial Crimes Division.
Minutes before sitting down at the birthday dinner, my phone had vibrated with four words from the lead investigator:
We have enough. Proceed.
Back on the terrace, Eleanor held her glass high. "To family loyalty!"
I picked up my glass of ice water, my gaze locking onto hers with deadly calm.
May you like
"To consequences."
Eleanor’s smile flickered.
