Chapter 130
Lena's POV
I pulled out a blank legal pad and started mapping connections.
"This isn't just about the murder," I said, writing quickly. "Marcus has been using Silverpine for decades. We need to show a pattern."
I drew a timeline:
Twenty years ago: Murder of Old Bowen via Silverpine's network (poisoning, falsified death certificate, paid cremation to destroy evidence).
Childhood (15 years ago to 8 years ago): Systematic abuse documented in photographs Marcus kept. Medical records showing injuries I "couldn't remember." The hospital visits Vivian explained away as accidents.
Recent (past six months): Threats via anonymous messages. Catherine Walsh breaking into my apartment. The bloody dress and photos left in my closet. All traceable back to Silverpine's "problem-solving" services.
"It's not isolated incidents," I said, circling the timeline. "It's a continuous criminal enterprise. Marcus has been using Silverpine to eliminate obstacles and terrorize victims for two decades."
Rowan leaned over to look at my notes. "Diana's already investigating Silverpine for the Ivanov trafficking case."
"Exactly." I tapped my pen against the pad. "If we can prove Silverpine is a transnational criminal organization, Marcus becomes part of a RICO case. We can prosecute him in multiple jurisdictions—here, Switzerland, anywhere Silverpine operates."
"Combining the cases makes both stronger," Rowan said.
"And it protects other victims. Katya Ivanov. Anyone else Silverpine has hurt." I paused. "We're not just taking down Marcus. We're dismantling the entire network that's been protecting him."
I started a new list: evidence we still needed, witnesses to secure, legal strategies for each jurisdiction.
The work focused me. Gave me something to control.
But underneath the professional analysis, a cold rage was building.
Marcus had murdered my grandfather. Had beaten me as a child. Had systematically tried to destroy my life for years.
And Silverpine had enabled all of it.
"I need to call Diana," I said abruptly. "Tomorrow morning won't be soon enough."
---
I pulled out my phone, hesitating for just a moment.
It was nearly ten PM. But Diana would want to know. This evidence could change everything about her Silverpine investigation.
She answered on the second ring. "Lena? Are you okay?"
"I found something," I said. "New evidence about Marcus. About Silverpine."
"What kind of evidence?"
"Murder. Twenty years ago, Marcus used Silverpine to kill my grandfather and take control of Nexus Investment."
Silence on the other end. Then: "Jesus Christ."
"I have the confession from the doctor who falsified the death certificate. Bank records showing Marcus's payments. Witnesses who can testify about the coverup." I spoke quickly, clinically. "It fits the pattern you found with Ivanov. Silverpine provides the infrastructure—false documents, paid-off officials, professional killers. Marcus is just one of their long-term clients."
"This is—" Diana's voice shook slightly. "Lena, this could be the breakthrough we need. If we can show a pattern of criminal activity across multiple cases—"
"We can build a RICO case. Prosecute Silverpine as an organized criminal enterprise. Bring charges in multiple countries."
"I need to see everything," Diana said. "Can you come in tomorrow morning? Early?"
"I'll be there at eight."
"Bring Rowan's team too. Jack's been coordinating with our investigators. We should all work together."
I glanced at Rowan. He was already texting, probably alerting Jack.
"We will," I said. "Diana—there's one more thing. My mother doesn't know about the murder yet."
"Do you want to tell her?"
"I..." I stopped, uncertain. "She has a right to know. And she might have additional evidence from Nexus's internal files. But I need to time it carefully. If she reacts emotionally, if Marcus finds out we're building a case—"
"Wait until the evidence is locked down," Diana said firmly. "Once we have everything documented, witness protection arranged, legal filings ready—then you can tell her. Not before."
Relief washed through me. Someone else confirming my instinct.
"Okay," I said. "We'll move forward without her for now."
"Get some rest, Lena. Tomorrow's going to be intense."
I hung up and set the phone down carefully.
Rowan had finished his text and was watching me.
"Jack's on it," he said. "He'll have updated intelligence on Marcus's location in Zurich by morning. And he's arranging enhanced security for all the witnesses."
"Good."
We looked at each other across the desk.
"Thank you," I said quietly. "For telling me. For not hiding this."
"You deserved to know."
"The old you would have tried to protect me from it." The words came out more bitter than I intended. "Would have decided I couldn't handle the truth."
"I know." His jaw tightened. "I was wrong. About a lot of things."
I picked up Grandfather's diary, running my thumb along the worn leather cover.
"You're respecting my judgment now," I said. "Treating me like an equal. Trusting me to make my own decisions."
"Yes."
"That's what I wanted. During our marriage. That's all I ever wanted."
Rowan's expression shifted—pain, regret, something deeper I couldn't quite name.
"And now it's too late," I finished softly.
The words hung between us.
He didn't deny it. Didn't make promises or excuses.
He just said, very quietly: "We'll build this case together. You don't have to carry it alone."
I nodded, not trusting my voice.
"Whatever you decide," he continued. "How to use this evidence. When to tell Vivian. What strategy to pursue. I'll support you."
"Even if my strategy fails?"
His eyes went cold. "If the legal system fails, Marcus will still face consequences. I'll make sure of that."
It should have alarmed me—the barely concealed threat in his voice.
Instead, I felt a dark satisfaction.
"Good," I said.
I turned back to the files, blocking out everything else. Emotions could wait. Complicated feelings about Vivian, about Rowan, about what all of this meant—they could all wait.
Right now, I had work to do.
I picked up my pen and started drafting the legal framework for a multi-jurisdictional criminal prosecution.
Rowan sat down beside me, pulling his laptop over to coordinate logistics.
We worked in silence as the night deepened. Two lawyers, building a case that would destroy the man who'd destroyed so much.
My grandfather had wanted me to be strong enough to fight.
He'd wanted me to escape the poison Marcus had brought into our family.
I couldn't escape. Not anymore.
But I could make sure Marcus never hurt anyone again.
And I would finish what Grandfather started—even if it meant burning down everything Marcus had built.
Starting tomorrow.