It was nearing 11 p.m., yet the rustle of papers and the clatter of a keyboard still filled Arthur Fortisiano’s study room.

At an hour when most people had already slipped into dreams, Arthur was wide awake, immersed in internal documents, shipping reports, and hidden financial flows tied to Miller Cosmetics.

A thin, cold smile—one that carried murderous intent—spread across his face as he read the report from the forensic auditors he had secretly hired.

There were glaring ...