Simone stood just inside the office when I walked in, the leather folder already in her hands. She didn’t say anything right away. Just offered it to me, her eyes steady.

I took it, opened it, and let the pages speak for themselves.

There were emails. Time-stamped call logs. Memos with deliberate omissions. Financial reports with discreet reallocations. Alessia’s fingerprints were everywhere, but so were Roman’s. The paper trail wasn’t just messy. It was deliberate. ...