Public Proof

The air in Julian Thorne’s study tasted of ozone and old paper. Elena stood by the mahogany desk, the thumb drive—a cold, plastic weight—pressed against her palm. Forty-seven hours remained until the bank liquidated the Vance estate. The ledger pages she’d decrypted weren't just records of debt; they were a blueprint of a systematic extraction, and Thorne Holdings was the primary architect.

"I didn’t realize you were so interested in my accounting, Elena."

Julian stood in the doorway. He had discarded his jacket, his sleeves rolled to the elbows, revealing forearms corded with the kind of tension that suggested h

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