The little girl should never have been in the dining room. But the moment she pointed at my fiancée’s hand and said, “That ring belongs to my mommy,” thirty-two guests stopped breathing.

Julian Montgomery walked into my study with the easy, practiced confidence of a man who believed his last name made him untouchable. He adjusted the cuffs of his tailored suit, though the slight tremor in his fingers gave him away.

“Damian,” Julian said, offering a tight, strained smile. “What is the meaning of this theater? You have high-net-worth investors locked in your drawing room like criminals. If this gets out to the press, our merger is going to take a massive hit before the stock market even opens on Monday.”

“Sit down, Julian,” I said softly.

Julian hesitated, glancing at Marco, who was standing by the door with his arms crossed over his massive chest. Realizing he had no choice, Julian slid into the leather chair opposite my desk.

“Look,” Julian began, leaning forward. “If this is about Vivienne taking that ring... she’s foolish. She’s always had a bad habit of taking small things she fancies. It’s a bad habit, I admit it. But holding an entire party hostage over a maid’s jewelry—”

I slid the burnt piece of paper across the desk, stopping it right under his eyes.

Julian’s voice trailed off. His eyes scanned the numbers, and the remaining color flushed from his face.

“What is this?” he whispered.

“That’s Sofia’s log,” I said coldly. “She kept records of every wire transfer made through your security system’s encrypted network. Over six million dollars washed through my offshore accounts using my corporate credentials. Accounts that only you and Vivienne had access to modify.”

Julian swallowed hard, his throat bobbing. “Damian... this is a misunderstanding. Someone must have hacked our servers—”

“Sofia found out,” I interrupted, leaning over the desk until I was inches from his face. “She was smart, wasn't she? She noticed the discrepancies in the household ledgers because she managed the local accounts. When she realized what you and Vivienne were doing, she recorded the transfers. And when she threatened to come to me... you killed her.”

“No!” Julian blurted out, his hands slamming down on the desk. “I didn’t kill anyone! I swear to God, Damian, I didn’t lay a finger on that woman!”

“Then who did?” I shouted, my voice cutting through the room like a blade. “Who cleared the security footage at 11:14 PM on November 2nd? Who paid the coroner fifty grand to forge a stroke diagnosis?”

Julian pressed his hands against his face, shaking his head frantically. “It wasn’t supposed to go that far! We were just leveraging the capital! My father’s firm was going under, Damian! We needed liquid assets to cover the short positions before the audit! Vivienne said she could handle Sofia. She said she was just going to pay her off!”

“Pay her off?” I sneered. “With a poison that leaves no trace?”

“I didn’t know!” Julian wept, dropping all pretenses of composure. “I swear I didn’t know until the next morning! Vivienne came to my apartment... she was holding that stupid wooden box. She told me Sofia was gone and that the problem was solved. I wiped the camera logs because I was terrified! If the police investigated, we’d all go down for financial fraud!”

I stood up, turning my back on him as I looked out the rain-streaked window. The rain was slowing down, turning into a dull, dreary mist. The truth was finally out, ugly and bloody, rotting beneath the foundation of my life.

“Where is the rest of the money, Julian?” I asked quietly.

“It’s in a blind trust,” Julian squeaked out, his voice cracked with terror. “Vivienne holds the primary key. She was going to transfer it out of the country right after the wedding!”

I turned back to him. “You’re going to step into my private library. You’re going to sit at that computer, and you’re going to give Marco full access to every account, every server, and every file you and your sister created.”