Chapter 137: Returning the Ledgers
Maya’s POV
The key turns smoothly in the lock of the front door, and Adrian and I step inside my father’s old estate office, where the dust sits untouched on the shelves just as it was left three years ago when the initial investigation first started in London. I carry the original Edinburgh ledgers under my arm while Adrian carries the rest of the verified legal files, and as we walk past the front desk toward the small archive room at the back of the hallway, the quietness of the building feels completely different now that the court has cleared my father's name from every single regulatory database.
"It feels strange to walk into this room without having to worry about Silas's men tracking our car or checking the windows for unexpected utility vans, Adrian, because the last time I stood in this hallway, I was trying to pack three folders into my bag before the corporate auditors arrived to seize the property," I say, setting the ledgers down on the center table while Adrian places his stack of papers right beside mine.
"You don't have to look over your shoulder anymore, Maya, because your father’s legacy is officially protected by the high court injunction, and every bank in London has already updated their records to show that Arthur Miller was completely innocent of those fraud allegations," Adrian answers, stepping around the table to pull open the top drawer where the family trust registry sits.
"We spent so many months moving from one temporary apartment to another, searching through encrypted files, and chasing down secondary wire receipts, that it almost feels unreal that we are finally standing here putting these ledgers away for good," I tell him, opening the front cover of the ledger one last time to look at my father’s original signature stamped alongside the official maritime approval seals.
"It was a long journey from that small London flat where we first sat down with Sofia's laptop to trace the offshore routing codes, Maya, but you never gave up on finding the physical proof even when my father controlled every single terminal in the country," he says, taking my hand across the table and squeezing my fingers with a calm pressure that keeps me steady.
"I couldn't have made it through half of those safehouses or faced Silas in that timber mill without you standing right beside me, Adrian, because you gave up your own position in your family's firm to help me fight for my father's name," I answer, looking up into his face while the late morning sunlight comes through the window glass, lighting up the table between us.
"My father's firm was built on lies and forged contracts, Maya, so leaving that life behind to help you reclaim what was rightfully yours was the easiest choice I ever made in my entire life," he tells me, reaching out his other hand to help me line up the heavy ledgers inside the metal archive box.
"Do you think the international news networks will try to reach us for interviews once the high court publishes the full audit report tomorrow morning, or will Prosecutor Ojo handle all the press statements from his office in Lagos?" I ask, pulling the primary family trust folder out of my coat pocket and placing it right on top of the Edinburgh certificates.
"Prosecutor Ojo promised that his team will handle every single media inquiry, Maya, so you and I don't have to answer a single question from reporters, and we can focus entirely on getting ready for our flight back to London," he replies, taking the legal folder from my hand and placing it inside the archive box beside the main ledgers.
"Damien and Sofia called me right before we drove over here, and Damien said the new security team is already stationed at the main gate of the Lagos port, while Sofia has completely finished setting up her new logistics system in Port Harcourt," I mention, smoothing out the top edge of the papers before we close the metal lid.
"They are going to run those terminals better than my father ever did, Maya, because they actually care about the workers and the legal compliance of the shipping routes," Adrian notes, taking the metal lid and fitting it securely over the top of the archive container.
"Now my father’s work is officially complete, and his name is restored to the exact position of respect that he earned over forty years of honest business," I say, picking up the small key from the tray on the table and stepping toward the heavy archive cabinet built into the back wall of the office.
"Slide the box onto the middle shelf, Maya, and then we can lock that cabinet door for the last time and leave this building behind us," Adrian instructs, lifting the box from the table and carrying it over to the open shelf so I don't have to carry the weight myself.
I slide the metal archive container onto the shelf right next to my father's personal journals, and as I push the cabinet door shut, I insert the key into the lock and turn it until I hear the solid metallic click that seals the drawer permanently.
"That is the end of the struggle, Adrian, and now we can finally walk out of this office and start our own life together without any corporate wars hanging over our heads," I tell him, putting the key inside my pocket and turning around to wrap my arms around his neck.
"That is the exact future we fought for, Maya, so let's walk out to the car and leave the past locked right where it belongs," Adrian answers, kissing my cheek gently before taking my hand, and together we walk out of the quiet office, closing the front door behind us as our new life officially begins.