Rashel stood in the dim corridor outside Jethro’s office, still reeling from the shock of the events of that morning. She had expected to expose a traitor and save Jethro’s empire once more. But now, there was no sense of victory in her chest, only failure and a bone-deep weariness and self-reproach. How could evidence slip through her fingers so easily?
Rashel had slept the previous night with all the evidence she needed on her laptop, only to wake up and find every trace of Veronica’s association with Marcellus wiped. No single trace whatsoever. She was mortified but still told Jethro about her findings anyway. But it was as she expected. No evidence, no case.
“I can’t apprehend Veronica if there’s no actual evidence to prove she did anything. I’m sorry, Rashel,” Jethro had said.
The
