“This is a misunderstanding. Helena’s emotional.”

Then Miriam played the recording, and Sebastian’s own voice filled the room. She signs anything I put in front of her. It ran all the way through — the divorce, the house, the money moved abroad, the debts left to me. He lunged for the laptop; security stepped in front of him.

I slid the unsigned folder across the table. “You went after my marriage, my inheritance, and my company,” I said. “But the thing you actually lost was your mask.”

“You recorded a private conversation!” he shouted.

“In a public lounge,” Miriam said. “And the bank received the forged authorization you uploaded at 8:42 this morning.” He’d submitted it before he ever walked in, using a scan of my old signature, certifying that I’d approved it. The bank had preserved it and frozen the transaction. “I didn’t upload anything.”

Selene stared at him.