Beatrice gaped at him. “No. The owner is some old investor in Boston.”

“That story was useful,” Liam said. “It showed me how people behave when they think there’s no power in the room.”

He gestured toward the screen. The humiliating slideshow vanished. In its place came bank transfers, forged signatures, false invoices, and internal emails.

Chloe’s voice cracked. “Those are private.”

“They’re evidence,” Maya replied.

Liam addressed the room. “Anyone who laughed at my wife but broke no law may leave with their shame. Anyone employed by my companies who took part in fraud, harassment, or concealment has already been terminated.”