The financial statements spread before me like a map of betrayal, each page a territory Derek has claimed in his campaign against me. The desk lamp casts harsh shadows across columns of numbers, illuminating discrepancies my human clients would miss but my wolf eyes detect with predatory precision. I trace my finger along a row of transactions, feeling the texture of deceit beneath my fingertip, the subtle wrongness that has been hiding in plain sight all along.
My home office has become a war room, the place where I've assembled the arsenal I'll need to dismantle Derek's schemes. Bank statements fan out across my desk, their edges aligned with military precision. Legal documents stack in chronological towers, color-coded flags marking suspicious entries. The night presses against my wind
