Chapter 13 - Paper Trails and Blood MoneyThe board members looked like men watching an executioner sharpen his axe.
“This... this is irregular!” Arthur shouted, trying to regain his footing, though his voice cracked traitorously. “The death certificate was filed! The estate is in probate! Julian Vale holds the controlling proxy—”
“Julian Vale,” Dominic interrupted smoothly, “is currently recovering from a severe case of blunt-force trauma in a federal holding cell, courtesy of the real authorities who just raided his safehouse.”
Dominic flicked a finger toward Marcus, who stepped forward and slammed a thick manila folder down onto the quartz table right in front of Arthur.
“Every wire transfer from the international cartel to your offshore accounts in the Cayman Islands,” Dominic continued, his eyes locked onto Arthur with chilling amusement. “Every forged medical document. Every bribe paid to the hospital administrators to pull my life support early.”
Arthur stared at the folder, paralyzed. Slowly, trembling hands reached out and pulled the cover open. The first page was a complete, itemized audit of his personal bank accounts, dated forty-eight hours prior.
“You thought you could bury me for eighty-nine days,” Dominic whispered, leaning forward. “You thought while I was trapped in the dark, unable to move or speak, I wasn't listening. But I heard every word, Arthur. Every single betrayal.”
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A suffocating silence filled the boardroom. No one dared to breathe.
Then, Arthur slumped back into his chair, defeated, the color completely drained from his face.
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