Arthur pointed at his three daughters beside Rose’s newly filled grave as though they were unwanted baggage he had already left behind.

The morning mist was still clinging to the manicured boxwood hedges when a black sedan crunched up the gravel driveway of Sterling Manor. Arthur, standing by the tall living room window with a cup of black coffee, watched as Marcus Vance stepped out of the vehicle. Despite being in his late sixties, Marcus moved with the crisp, athletic efficiency of a retired marathon runner. He wore a rumpled trench coat over a charcoal suit, his silver hair cropped close to his scalp, and carried a weathered leather briefcase that looked like it had survived a dozen courtroom wars.

Arthur met him at the heavy front door before Marcus even had a chance to ring the bell. "Marcus. Thanks for making the drive at this hour."

"Wouldn't miss it, Arthur," Marcus said, stepping into the grand foyer and shaking Arthur’s hand with a grip like a vise. "When you call me at midnight talking about corporate fraud and an endangered family, my ears perk up. Where are the girls?"

"Asleep upstairs. Sarah is making them pancakes," Arthur replied, leading him down the hall toward the private study. "Come in. You need to see what's on this micro-SD card."

They settled into the leather armchairs around the fireplace. Arthur slid the laptop across the desk, pulling up the folder of audio recordings and the scanned financial ledgers. Marcus didn't say a word for twenty minutes. He simply listened, his eyes darting across the spreadsheets while his fingers tapped a slow, steady rhythm against the arm of his chair. Every few minutes, he paused an audio file, rewound thirty seconds, and listened again, taking precise notes in a small black Moleskine notebook with a fountain pen.

When he finally closed the notebook, his expression was grim. "This isn't just embezzlement, Arthur. This is systematic asset stripping combined with interstate extortion. Julian used forged notarizations to siphon over four million dollars from Elena’s private trust into offshore shell accounts in the British Virgin Islands."

"Can we lock him out of the family accounts today?" Arthur asked, leaning forward.

"We can do better than that," Marcus said, clicking his pen shut. "If we file these affidavits and the audio recordings with federal magistrate Judge Henderson this morning, we can secure an emergency asset freeze and an arrest warrant for financial fraud and coercion. But there's a complication."

Arthur frowned. "What complication?"

"Julian isn't acting alone," Marcus said, adjusting his glasses. "According to these routing numbers, the shell accounts he set up require a secondary signature. Someone at Sterling Enterprises approved these transfers internally without raising compliance flags. Someone with executive authority."