log and a piece of paper finishes anything?”
“No.”
Vincent reached into his pocket and held up his phone.
“But the restored footage of you planting the watch finishes your claim that Mara was stealing.
The transfer records tied to R-17 are being copied by forensic accountants as we speak.
And twenty minutes ago my attorney sent duplicates outside this property.”
For the first time, Enzo’s composure cracked.
Mara looked at Vincent.
He had anticipated the destruction attempt.
The documents in the archive were no longer the only copies.
Enzo realized it too.
“You would expose your own organization just to protect an accountant who worked for your father?”
Vincent’s expression became still.
“No.
I’m doing it because my father suspected someone close to him and died before he could finish proving it.”
A long silence followed.
Then Vincent added, “And because I nearly destroyed the man’s daughter by making the same mistake my father did.
I trusted the person standing beside me and suspected the person with the least power to defend herself.”
Enzo’s face changed.
Not guilt.
Recognition.
Vincent had finally understood the pattern.
The missing ledger had not merely hidden embezzlement.
It had hidden payments connected to the people who supplied information for the ambush that killed Vincent’s father.
Enzo had not needed to pull a trigger.
He had financed the betrayal.
Gabriel’s men stepped forward.
Enzo did not resist.
There was nowhere useful to run.
By sunrise, Vincent’s attorneys had delivered financial records, security footage, and copies of the recovered transfer data to investigators handling the old corporate fraud matters.
Daniel Ellison’s lawyer received the same material.
Vincent did not pretend the process would be instant.
Records had to be authenticated.
Accounts had to be traced.
Statements had to be taken.
But for the first time in eight years, the evidence no longer pointed only at Daniel.
Three days later, Mara sat beside her father’s hospital bed while Arthur Brennan and Daniel’s attorney explained what had been recovered.
Daniel listened silently.
When the lawyer finished, the older man looked at his daughter.
“You went into that house for me.”
Mara squeezed his hand.
“I went in for the truth.”
“You could’ve been hurt.”
“I know.”
“And you lied about your name.”
She smiled faintly.
“I know that too.”
Daniel looked toward the doorway.
Vincent Moretti stood there alone.
Mara had not expected him.
Neither had Daniel.
Vincent entered without the entourage that usually followed him.
For several seconds, the two men simply looked at one another.
Then Vincent said something Mara had never imagined hearing from him.
“Mr.
Ellison, I owe you an apology.”
Daniel’s expression remained guarded.
“My father accused you.
I accepted that accusation without ever examining what came before it.
Then I did something similar to your daughter.”
Daniel looked at Mara.
“What did he do?”
“Dad.”
“What did he do?”
Vincent answered before she could.
“I planted money and valuables around her to see if she’d steal them.”
Daniel stared at him.
Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.
It was weak and brief, but unmistakable.
Vincent looked confused.
Daniel said, “You left money around Mara?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Several hundred dollars at first.”
Daniel laughed again.
“My daughter once drove forty minutes back to a grocery store because a cashier gave her five dollars
