Page 54

Then the Colombian loan servicer.

"Santiago?"

Adrianos nods.

My attention shifts back to the spreadsheets. Until now, I've been seeing institutions. But Adrianos sees ownership. Power.

That's the difference between us.

I can tell him where the money moved. He can tell me whose throat somebody had to stand close enough to cut.

"These aren't random businesses," I say.

"No."

"They're Crown infrastructure."

"Yes."

I sit back.

The word changes everything.

The Crown isn't a corporation. It doesn't have one accounting department, one bank, or one set of books. It is an alliance built from separate empires with separate systems, separate territories, and separate men who would probably rather swallow broken glass than give one another complete financial access.

Yet somebody has been feeding from all five.

"How much legitimate business crosses between you?" I ask.

"Enough."

"That's not a number."

"It isn't supposed to be."

I give him a look.

He sighs. "Shipping. Construction. Finance. Imports. Property. There are joint ventures when interests overlap."

"Do you audit each other's transactions?"

"No."

"Why?"

"Because I prefer breathing."

I almost smile. "So when a Greek-controlled insurer processes something for an Italian company, nobody on either side wants to examine the other family's books too closely."

"Correct."

"And when funds cross Crown territory, everyone assumes the other side's internal controls are handling their portion."

His eyes narrow slightly.

He sees it now.

"The gaps."