The sex though? The sex is...well.
Let’s just say I now understand why people write poetry about physical intimacy.
Not that I’m writing poetry.
I’m a corporate litigator, not a romantic.
But if I were the poetry-writing type, there would definitely be stanzas about what Corin Saelinger can do with his hands and mouth.
Bot not right now.
Right now I’m wide awake because my brain has decided that 4:47 a.m. is the perfect time to obsess about shell companies and land deeds.
I slip out of bed as quietly as possible and pad down the hallway to the guest office. Corin set it up for my use when I agreed to stay at his private villa. It has a desk, an ocean view, and boxed documents I’ve been combing through like a woman possessed.
The coffee from last night is still sitting on the desk where I abandoned it, right next to a legal pad covered in increasingly unhinged annotations.
I take a sip of the coffee anyway because apparently self-respect is for people who sleep normal hours.
The next box is waiting for me next to the desk. It’s full of the kind of tedious financial records that would make most people weep with boredom.
Lucky for Corin, I’m not most people.
I pull out the next set of documents and spread them across the desk. I open up my laptop so I can perform any related online searches.
Then set to work.
I find the connection at 5:23 a.m.
The breakthrough comes from cross-referencing three sources: the old clinic documents in front of me, Delaware’s Secretary of State database currently on my laptop, and the Bahamas Financial Services Board registry that I’ve been refreshing so many times I’m probably on some kind of watch list.
The clinic documents from six years ago show Xavier funneling money through something called “Windward Solutions LLC.” That’s the paper trail. Actual signatures, actual dates, actual proof he touched the thing.
Delaware’s online database shows Windward Solutions LLC is owned by... another LLC. Coral Bridge Holdings. Because of course it is. Shell companies are like Russian nesting dolls, except boring and potentially criminal.
And here’s where it gets fun: Coral Bridge Holdings has the same registered agent as a Bahamian entity called Atlantic Cove Investments. Which, according to the land purchase records I pulled from the Eleuthera Administrator’s office yesterday, is currently buying up coastal properties from islander families at predatory rates.
Same registered agent. Same mailing address. Same labyrinthine ownership structure designed to hide the man at the center.
In other words: Coral Bridge Holdings and Atlantic Cove Investments trace back to the Delaware holding company from six years ago, the same one that appears in Xavier’s original ledger entry, complete with his actual signature on the formation documents sitting right here in front of me.
The documents prove he built the structure. The databases prove it still exists. The land records prove he’s using it right now.
Ladies and gentlemen of the jury, the prosecution would like to submit Exhibit Holy Shit.
I trace the connection three more times, just to be sure.
When I’m satisfied, I print out the relevant documents from the Delaware Secretary of State website and the Bahamas Financial Services Board. Then I gather up all the papers with shaking hands.
This is it.
The kill shot.
Not just proof that Xavier planted forged documents to frame Corin. But proof that he’s been running this con for years.
I practically sprint down the hallway to Corin’s bedroom, the papers clutched to my chest like a crazy person.
He’s still asleep when I burst through the door. The early morning light is just starting to filter through those ridiculous floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in soft gold.
