Chapter 13 - The Real LedgerThe real ledger was not digital.
That was the first surprise.
Vincent Rossi trusted technology only when he controlled it. For the transactions that could destroy him, he preferred paper.
Old habits from old crimes.
According to Helena, the ledger was kept inside Rossi Hall, the private family estate on the Hudson, hidden in a locked archive behind Vincent’s late wife’s portrait.
Marcus wanted to send investigators.
Detective Cole wanted a warrant.
Khloe knew both would take time.
Vincent would not wait.
A man like him would burn his own house to save his name.
So Celeste did something no one expected.
She called Vincent and invited herself to dinner.
Marcus stared at his mother. “Absolutely not.”
Celeste fastened pearl earrings in the reflection of Khloe’s hospital window.
“Men like Vincent expect fear. They do not expect a widow in couture to walk through the front door and ask for brandy.”
Khloe almost laughed despite everything.
Marcus did not.
“He’s dangerous.”
“So am I.”
That evening, Celeste Thorne arrived at Rossi Hall with a driver, a fur coat, and a diamond brooch containing a hidden camera.
Vincent greeted her with suspicion.
“Celeste. Brave of you.”
“Bored, actually.”
He studied her. “Why are you here?”
“To offer you a chance.”
Vincent smiled. “For surrender?”
“For dignity.”
While Celeste kept Vincent occupied in the dining room, Marcus’s legal team worked with Detective Cole to finalize the warrant. Outside the estate gates, officers waited in unmarked vehicles.
Inside, Celeste sipped brandy and lied beautifully.
“You and Edward made mistakes,” she said. “Marcus is angry now, but anger can be negotiated.”
Vincent leaned back. “And Khloe?”
Celeste’s expression did not change. “Khloe is pregnant and frightened. She will do what Marcus tells her.”
Vincent believed that.
Of course he did.
Men like Vincent always believed women were either decoration or weakness.
That mistake had ruined stronger men than him.
A housekeeper entered quietly to refill glasses.
Celeste glanced at her.
The woman gave the smallest nod.
Helena Marsh’s sister.
Working undercover with the police.
Ten minutes later, the warrant arrived.
The front doors burst open.
Detective Cole entered with officers.
Vincent stood. “This is harassment.”
Celeste smiled and touched her brooch.
“No, Vincent. This is history repeating itself. Only this time, the wife was listening.”
The archive was found behind the portrait exactly where Helena said it would be.
The ledger was inside.
Names.
Dates.
Payments.
Judges.
Executives.
Medical vendors.
Board members.
And at the center of it all, written beside several transfers, were two initials.
E.T.
Edward Thorne.
Marcus read the copies hours later in silence.
Khloe held his hand.
The truth had become bigger than Vincent.
May you like
It now threatened the memory of Marcus’s father.
And sometimes destroying a lie meant grieving the person who built it.
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