Hearing the door click shut, something inside of me cracked. What was I doing? I had to let go of my pride. What she’d done mattered, but what I did next mattered just as much. She’d come back to fight for me. I needed to do the same.
I hurried to the door and pulled it open. “Julia—”
Walking to her desk, she glanced over her shoulder. Hope filled her eyes and she turned to face me. “Yes?”
“I love you.”
She froze, then suddenly, she was in my arms. I held her tightly. Kissed her face, her cheeks, her hair.
“I love you, too.”
“We’ll find a way.”
“We will.”
“I promise.”
“Me too.”
“Uh…” Stone’s voice cut through the haze. “You might want to move your conversation someplace more private.”
We pulled apart. Julia straightened her clothes, and I glared at Stone. “Need something?”
“Yeah. Forrest found some information you’ll want to see.”
I nodded and motioned toward the hall. “Lead the way.”
In the conference room, Forrest pulled up a file on one of the screens. "Three weeks before your father died, someone made a series of wire transfers from a shell company in the Caymans. Total amount: five million dollars."
I leaned closer, studying the numbers. "Where did it go?"
"That's the interesting part. It went to another shell company. One that I traced back to—" He pulled up another window. "—a property management firm in Salt Lake City."
My eyes narrowed. "Someone paid five million dollars to someone here."
"Three weeks before Julia’s father was killed."
"Who owns the property management firm?"
Forrest scratched his chin. "That's what we're still trying to figure out. The ownership structure is deliberately obscured. Multiple layers of LLCs, offshore accounts. Professional-grade concealment."
Julia nodded. "The kind of thing someone in our world would use."
"Exactly." He pulled up more files. "But here's what's interesting. The Cayman shell company that made the payment? I traced it back to a charitable foundation in New York. The Salvatore Russo Memorial Foundation."
Julia’s eyes widened. "My father had a foundation?"
"Apparently. Established twenty years ago. Legitimate, mostly—donations to hospitals, schools, community centers. But the financial records show some... irregularities."
"What kind of irregularities?"
"The kind where money goes in and doesn't come out where it should. The kind where someone's using a charity as a slush fund."
Julia swallowed, visibly shaken. "Who controls it?"
"Your father did. Until he died. Now—" Forrest met her gaze. "Now it's controlled by the executor of his estate."
"Carlo," she whispered.
