“Your numbers are a fabricated fiction, Dominic,” Marcus Thorn cut in, opening a heavy leather portfolio and projecting a series of encrypted financial documents onto the ballroom’s massive presentation screens.

The images of Dominic and his fiancée were instantly replaced by bank wire receipts, shell company registration files from the Cayman Islands, and explicit internal messaging logs.

“For thirty-six months,” Marcus continued, his voice echoing across the silent room, “Mr. Vance has been systematically embezzling corporate capital from Vanguard Horizon, laundering the funds through a network of fake logistics vendors, and using fraudulent accounts to hide his personal assets from his wife during their marriage.”

The crowd erupted into furious shouts and panicked murmurs. Dominic’s fiancée took a sharp step away from him, her eyes wide with horror as she stared at the fraud documentation.

“Dominic!” her father, Harrison, roared from the table. “What the hell is the meaning of this? You told me your firm was completely backed by independent capital!”

“It was backed by independent capital,” Victor Sterling said, finally stepping forward to stand directly beside me. He placed a protective, heavy hand on my shoulder and looked down at Dominic as if he were a common insect.