Chapter 8
Inside the velvet-lined interior of the box lay a single, scorched micro-SD card.
Julian stared at it, the muscles in his jaw ticking. For seven years, the truth behind Elias's death had been sitting in his safe, locked behind a puzzle only the dead man's sister knew how to solve.
"Victor," Julian called out, not raising his voice, knowing his lieutenant was standing right outside the door.
Victor entered, his eyes landing on the open box. He didn't ask questions. He immediately pulled a secure, air-gapped laptop from a locked drawer and inserted the micro-SD card. Clara and Julian stood over his shoulders as lines of encrypted code flooded the screen.
"It's heavily encrypted," Victor muttered, his fingers flying across the keyboard. "Custom algorithm. Elias didn't want anyone stumbling onto this. Give me a minute."
For sixty agonizing seconds, the only sound in the room was the rapid clatter of keys. Then, the screen flashed green. A massive spreadsheet materialized.
Clara leaned in. It was a ledger. But it wasn't Elias's laundering accounts. It was a detailed tracking of Julian's own offshore accounts, cross-referenced with shell companies Elias had uncovered.
"Look at the routing numbers," Julian said, his voice dropping to a terrifying, deadly calm. "Someone has been skimming off the top of the port shipments for a decade. Funneling the cash into a private holding company."
"Who owns the holding company?" Clara asked.
Victor ran a rapid trace on the IP addresses attached to the offshore accounts. The progress bar loaded painfully slowly. When the name finally popped up on the screen, all three of them froze.
Marcus Vance.
Julian’s second-in-command for the southern territories. A man who had dined at Julian's table, who had fought back-to-back with him in the gang wars of the early 2000s.
"Marcus," Victor breathed, genuine shock bleeding into his usually stoic face. "He’s been bleeding us dry. And Elias caught him."
"Marcus burned the shop," Clara said, her voice shaking with a sudden, violent rage. "He burned my brother alive to cover his tracks, and then he let you believe Elias was a thief."
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Julian didn't shout. He didn't throw anything. He simply stared at the screen, his eyes turning to absolute ice. When a predator of his caliber went completely still, it was far more terrifying than a roar.
"Victor," Julian said softly. "Lock down the building. No one goes in or out. Marcus is coming."
