Daniel couldn’t breathe.
The chill in the air-conditioned conference room suddenly felt arctic. His palms were slick with sweat as he stared at the email Aria had sent. Each attachment was a dagger: financial transfers, personal correspondences, shell account movements—things he thought were buried, things only someone inside could have uncovered.
She knew.
And worse—she had receipts.
“What is it?” Isabelle asked again, irritation edging into her voice.
Daniel snapped the laptop shut, plastering on a tight smile. “Nothing urgent. Just… personal.”
Isabelle didn’t buy it, but she nodded anyway. “Good. Because the press release goes live in twenty minutes. We need your full attention.”
He nodded, but his thoughts had already scattered. Aria had frozen the secondary account. She had for
