Chapter 4 - The Forensic Discovery
The room went dead silent.
Julian's hand slid slowly into his jacket pocket. Vance Croft cleared his throat nervously, adjusting his glasses. Rebecca stared at me, her eyes darting across my face, searching for how much I actually knew versus how much I was guessing.
"What is that supposed to mean?" she asked softly.
"It means I know about the Caymans account," I lied smoothly, bluffing based on the file names I had briefly glimpsed on the flash drive. "And I know about the double ledger Julian created for the patent transfer."
Julian’s breath caught in his throat. "Daniel, you don't know what you're talking about—"
"I have the drive, Julian," I said, bringing my hand up to tap my vest pocket. "Noah gave it to me ten minutes before the ceremony."
The color drained completely from Rebecca’s face. The cool, impenetrable composure she had maintained for two years dissolved into pure, raw panic. She whipped around to face Julian.
"You said you searched Emily's bag before she left!" Rebecca hissed at him, completely forgetting that I was standing right there.
"I did!" Julian stammered, his face red. "She didn't have any hardware on her when I tossed her car!"
"She gave it to her three-year-old son, you idiot!" Rebecca snarled.
Standing there watching them turn on each other was all the confirmation I needed. The video had shown the assault, but their immediate admission of the theft confirmed the entire financial conspiracy.
Vance Croft quietly closed his leather briefcase and took two steps back toward the corner of the room. "I had no knowledge of any assault," the lawyer mumbled, his hands shaking. "My retainer was strictly for estate planning—"
"Shut up, Vance!" Rebecca snapped. She turned back to me, her expression instantly shifting into a desperate, pleading mask. She took a step toward me, reaching out her hands. "Daniel... listen to me. Please. It’s not what you think. Emily attacked me. She was jealous, she was trying to ruin us—"
"Don't," I said, stepping back and holding up a hand. "Don't ever speak my daughter's name again."
"Daniel, please," she sobbed, fake tears springing to her eyes with terrifying speed. "I love you! Everything I did was to secure our future! Your daughter was trying to push me out—"
"You hit her," I said, my voice dangerously quiet. "You struck my daughter in my own home, left her with a concussion, and then walked down the aisle smiling at me."
Julian moved toward me, his stance aggressive. "Listen to me, old man. You haven't called the cops yet because you don't want the scandal. We can settle this right now. You sign the paper, grant the patent transfer, and we walk away quietly. Nobody gets hurt."
I looked at Julian—a man twenty years younger than me who thought my age made me weak.
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"I didn't call the police," I said, pulling my phone from my pocket and holding up the screen. "Because I called federal investigators thirty minutes ago."
The door behind Julian was suddenly shoved open from the outside, slamming hard into his shoulder.
