Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the LedgerThe interrogation room wasn't a dungeon; it was Gabriel’s private home office, lined with leather-bound first editions and ancient maps. But tonight, it felt like an interrogation cell.
Carmine stood guard by the reinforced steel door while I sat across from Gabriel at a massive mahogany desk lit by a single banker’s lamp. Spread out before us were digital tablets, encrypted hard drives seized from Julian Vance’s laptop, and financial ledgers dating back ten years.
"You're not eating," Gabriel noted, sliding a plate of food toward me.
"I'm not hungry, Mr. Falcone," I replied, my eyes glued to a string of offshore wire transfers.
"Eat. I need your brain sharp. You saved my life today. That makes you my partner in this room, not my servant. Drop the 'Mr. Falcone.' Call me Gabriel."
I hesitated, then nodded. "Gabriel."
"Good. Now, what did you find in Julian's encrypted drive?"
I tapped the glass screen of the tablet, pulling up a complex web of financial transactions. "Julian is smart, but he's arrogant. He thought no one would look past the corporate shell names. Look at this transaction pattern from three weeks ago—the exact day of the shooting."
Gabriel leaned in close, his shoulder brushing against mine as he studied the data. His scent—expensive cologne mixed with the sharp antiseptic of clean gauze—filled my senses.
"A payout of two million dollars," Gabriel murmured, his eyes narrowing. "Routed through three dummy accounts in Panama, ending up in a private Swiss bank account."
"And who owns that Swiss account?" I asked, swiping to the next screen.
"Dr. Harrison Cole," Gabriel finished, a muscle ticking in his jaw. "The surgeon."
"Not just Cole," I corrected, tapping another hidden sub-folder. "Look at the authorization key attached to the transfer metadata. It was signed off using a digital security token. A token that requires a dual-key signature. Julian provided the corporate cover and the money, but the second key..."
"Belongs to someone inside the family," Gabriel finished, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. He looked up at me, realization dawning in his dark eyes. "Julian didn't act alone. He was hired by someone sitting at my own family table."
Before Gabriel could speak further, a deafening explosion rocked the estate.
BOOM!
The floor violently buckled beneath us, sending books crashing from the shelves. Red emergency lights flooded the room as sirens wailed piercingly through the corridors.
Carmine kicked off the door, drawing his weapon. "Boss! The west wing! Someone blew the armory and communication relay!"
Gabriel grabbed his gun from the desk drawer, his face hardening into granite. He looked at me, grabbed my arm with a grip of steel, and pulled me behind his broad back.
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"Stay close to me," Gabriel ordered. "The rat is trying to burn down the house to destroy the evidence."
As gunshots began to echo from the courtyard below, I realized the killer wasn't hiding anymore. They were coming for us.
