Chapter 17 - The Velvet NooseBy midnight, my office had been transformed into a war room.
Noah had called in his most elite cybersecurity contractors. The glass desk was buried under blueprints, tax records, and encrypted laptops. I sat at the head of the table, an empty coffee cup beside me, my eyes burning as I scanned the documents Cassian had left behind.
“He forged them,” I said, my voice razor-sharp in the quiet room. “The original ledgers were handwritten. These digital scans have been manipulated to include legitimate transactions from our new international accounts. He is trying to bridge the gap between your father's crimes and our clean money.”
“It doesn't matter if they are forged,” Noah said grimly, pacing behind my chair. He looked dangerous—a lethal shadow pacing a cage. “If he hands them to a corrupt federal judge, the ensuing investigation will paralyze Moretti Bespoke. Our funding will plummet. The board will panic.”
“That is exactly his play,” I agreed, leaning back and rubbing my temples. “He wants to starve me out. He wants me to hand him the keys to the kingdom to avoid a media slaughter.”
“I can end this,” Noah whispered, stopping beside me. His dark eyes were swirling with a violent, protective fury. “I can find out where he is staying. I can make those documents disappear. I can make him disappear.”
I looked up at the man who loved me enough to burn the world down to keep me warm. It was a seductive offer. A swift, brutal end to the man who dared threaten our future.
But I placed my hand flat against his chest, feeling the frantic, heavy beat of his heart.
“No,” I said softly, but with absolute conviction. “If we use violence, we become exactly what your father was. We become criminals. I didn't build an empire of light just to run back into the dark the second I get scared.”
Noah let out a ragged breath, resting his forehead against mine. “Lyra, he is targeting you. He is targeting us.”
“I know,” I breathed, my eyes hardening into diamonds. “Which is why I am going to annihilate him legally, publicly, and permanently. I want you to pull every single offshore record tied to Aegis Sovereign. We are going to find his vulnerability.”
For the next forty-eight hours, we barely slept. We traced shell companies through Switzerland, the Caymans, and London. Cassian was brilliant, but arrogance always leaves a footprint.
At 3:00 AM on Thursday, I found the crack in his armor.
“Noah,” I called out, my heart hammering a triumphant rhythm.
He was by my side in a second. I pointed to a cascading series of micro-transactions on my monitor.
“Cassian claims his wealth is tied to legitimate European real estate,” I explained, typing furiously to decrypt the final layer of the ledger. “But these routing numbers... they trace back to a sovereign wealth fund sanctioned by the United States government for funding international arms trafficking.”
Noah stared at the screen, the magnitude of the discovery hitting him. “He isn't a venture capitalist. He’s laundering money for a global syndicate.”
“And he’s doing it on American soil,” I smiled, a cold, terrifying expression. “If the federal government finds out, they won't just freeze his assets. They will lock him in a black site for treason.”
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“Do we call the FBI?” Noah asked.
“Not yet,” I said, standing up, smoothing my clothes. “If we just hand this over, he’ll tie it up in court for a decade with his expensive lawyers. We need to catch him in the act. Call Cassian. Tell him I am surrendering. Tell him to meet us tomorrow night at the Manhattan Philanthropic Summit.”
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