Chapter 3 - THE DOSSIER IN THE LEATHER FOLDER
Victor reached inside the inner breast pocket of his black suit jacket.
He withdrew a slim, matte-black leather folder bearing the embossed gold seal of Moretti Investigations.
He tossed it onto the table.
The folder slid across the white linen, coming to a halt directly beside Camilla’s wineglass.
Camilla stared down at it, her chin lifting with defensive pride. "What is this nonsense? More receipts from your accountants? Really, Victor, if you're trying to bore me into submission, you'll have to—"
"Open it, Camilla," Victor interrupted softly.
The quiet command cut through the room like a scalpel.
Camilla’s fingers trembled slightly as she reached out, flipped the leather cover open, and looked at the top document.
It was a bank transfer statement from Zurich.
Dated three weeks ago.
The recipient name was registered to a shell company in the Cayman Islands.
The amount: two million five hundred thousand dollars.
The source account: Moretti Global Logistics subsidiary reserves.
Camilla’s face lost the last remaining trace of color, turning the gray-white of skimmed milk.
"I... I don't know what this is," she stammered, her gaze darting frantically toward the door where Leo stood like a statue. "Anyone can print out a fake bank statement. This is a pathetic attempt to—"
"Look at the second page," Victor said, his voice unchanging, devoid of any human warmth.
Camilla turned the page with a shaking hand.
The next document was a transcript of encrypted text messages.
Between Camilla Croft... and Thomas Vance, the head of security for the rival Sinclair family.
“The shipment on pier fourteen leaves at midnight,” the message read. “Security codes are attached below. Make sure Moretti takes the fall before the federal grand jury next month.”
The silence in the private dining room grew so dense that the ticking of the antique grandfather clock in the corner sounded like falling anvils.
Camilla slammed the folder shut, her chest heaving under her crimson evening gown.
"It's a forgery!" she shrieked, all pretense of elegance shattering completely. "Victor, you can't believe I would sell you out to the Sinclairs! We're supposed to be married! My family has stood beside yours since—"
"Your family was wiped out in a warehouse fire in Palermo ten years ago, Camilla," Victor said, cutting her off with brutal precision. "The woman who adopted you was an intelligence asset for the federal prosecutor's office. And you... you were planted in my path to dismantle my shipping empire from the inside."
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Nora sat frozen at the end of the table, her eyes darting between Victor and Camilla, her breath catching in her throat as the magnitude of the syndicate war unfolding before her eyes became clear.
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