I met his eyes. “Do you remember who paid for it?”
His expression tightened.
“Don’t rewrite history,” he warned.
“I don’t need to. I kept records.”
For a moment, I saw it—fear.
Then it vanished behind arrogance.
“You were just a housewife, Evelyn.”
I laughed softly. He hated that more than anger.
“They picked the wrong woman,” I said as I opened the door.
“Is that a threat?”
“No,” I replied. “Just a forecast.”
The storm arrived Friday morning.
Part 3
The board received documents. Regulators received evidence. Banks were alerted to violations.
And “Stefan”?
He wasn’t a broker.
He was Malcolm’s investigator.
Victor learned the truth in a glass conference room, surrounded by board members, lawyers, and Clara—now pale and shaken.
I entered last.
“What is this?” Victor demanded.
“A meeting,” I said.
Malcolm began listing charges: unauthorized transfers, fraud, breach of duty.
Victor’s confidence crumbled piece by piece.
“That was Stefan,” he insisted.
“Stefan recorded everything,” Malcolm replied.
Clara stepped back. “Victor handled the money.”
“You introduced him!” Victor snapped.
