Eloise
I never expected victory to feel like this.
Not light. Not triumphant. It was heavy, like dragging a chest of gold through mud, valuable, priceless, but soaked in sweat and grit, with bruises carved into my palms.
I was close to the parking lot when my phone buzzed, once, then again. My lawyer’s name flashed across the screen.
“Eloise,” I murmured to myself, steadying my breath, “this is it.”
I answered. “Yes?”
“Don’t leave yet.” His voice carried a pulse of electricity. “Something came in encrypted files from one of Lucian’s accountants. He cracked. We’ve got everything.”
My throat tightened. “Everything?”
“Everything he thought he buried. Offshore accounts, dummy corporations, cash slush funds. He hid properties under aliases, even tried to move shares into shell holdings.
