Chapter 61
Emily Windsor's POV
Every single line matched Victor family's shadowy operations—from financial ledgers to transaction details. Some of the fund transfers were the exact weak spots I'd been planning to exploit against Hank and his cronies in my project meetings this past week.
Whoever sent this knew exactly what I was doing.
My heart sank lower with each passing second as I scrolled down.
Until I saw a standalone folder. Its name: Core.
I clicked it open. My blood turned to ice.
Inside were several wire transfer records, crystal clear, showing massive sums moving from a hidden offshore account to a company affiliated with that South American "private island" the professor had mentioned.
The signature on that offshore account, after layers of technical processing, pointed directly to Luke.
Attached were photos from some exclusive private club. Luke was deep in conversation with several unfamiliar white men, the atmosphere disturbingly cordial.
One shot captured a fleeting cold smile on Luke's face, and there, on his cuff under the dim lighting, unmistakable—the Lion Badge holding scales.
Everything lined up perfectly with what the professor had told me.
This evidence was more direct, more lethal than anything Douglas had shown me before.
If this file was real, Luke was finished.
But as I stared at the screen, the initial shock and ice in my veins slowly gave way to an overwhelming sense of wrongness.
Something was off.
Very off.
This was too clean.
This evidence was clean in the way a perfectly staged crime scene is clean—airtight, circular logic, leaving Luke virtually no room for defense.
Luke was meticulous, paranoid even. How could he possibly leave behind such a clear signature trail?
He'd covered up Hank's son's mess without leaving a trace. Why would he make such a rookie mistake with his own transactions?
More importantly, the wire transfer template format.
I zoomed in for a closer look. The header and footer were subtly different from the template Luke's finance team currently used on Victor Group's overseas acquisitions.
This was an outdated version—one that had been discontinued two years ago.
This was a trap.
A vicious, diabolical trap disguised as "the truth."
The goal wasn't to convince me. It was to use me as the weapon—to have me hand over this evidence myself, or to watch me panic and turn on Luke in spectacular fashion.
They didn't just want to destroy Luke. They wanted a front-row seat to watch us tear each other apart.
I shut down everything, wiped the computer clean, and yanked out the USB drive.
I sat on the cold floor, arms wrapped around my knees, staring out at New York's glittering skyline, feeling bone-deep terror for the first time.
This wasn't a business competition. This was a war of annihilation, and I'd been dragged straight into the eye of the storm.
I don't know how long I sat there until my phone buzzed. Luke's name flashed across the screen.
"Still at the office?" His deep voice came through.
"No. Just got home." I forced my voice to sound normal.
"Have you eaten?"
"Not hungry."
Silence on the other end for a few seconds, then I heard him stand. "Wait for me. I'm coming home to eat with you."
After hanging up, I got to my feet and made a decision.
An hour later, Luke came through the door.
He shrugged off his suit jacket, tossing it carelessly onto the sofa, and started loosening his tie as he walked toward me. "What do you want? I'll have the restaurant send—"
His words died the instant he saw my face.
I said nothing. I placed the black encrypted flash drive on the coffee table between us.
The air seemed to freeze.
Luke's hand stilled on his tie. He glanced down at the drive, then back up at me. The warm smile in those dark eyes had vanished.
"What is this?" His voice was unreadable, but carried more oppressive weight than I'd ever heard.
"An anonymous email. Sent to me." I met his gaze without flinching. "It contains 'evidence' against you. The kind that could keep you in federal prison for life."
I saw his pupils contract sharply, his entire presence turning sharp and dangerous in an instant.
He stared at me like a lion whose sensitive spot had just been touched, assessing this foolish intruder before him.
"You looked." A statement, not a question.
"I did." I nodded, laying out my analysis. "It's a sophisticated forgery. Nearly flawless. Wire transfers, photos, timeline—it all lines up. Except they used the wrong template, and they underestimated how well I know you."
I paused, studying that devastatingly handsome but ice-cold face. "Luke, this is a trap. It's a blood oath they want me to swear—proof of loyalty against you."
The study fell into deathly silence.
Luke said nothing. He just looked at me.
After a long moment, he finally spoke, his voice rough and hoarse. "Why... why are you telling me this?"
"What else would I do?" I asked calmly. "Use it to negotiate with you? Trade your secret for a lifetime of wealth and comfort?"
I gave a bitter, self-deprecating smile. "Luke, is that really what you think of me?"
His Adam's apple bobbed. He didn't answer.
Instead, he reached for the USB drive and walked toward his study computer.
I followed.
He plugged it in, face impassive, rapidly scanning through the evidence that could destroy him.
The only sound in the study was the soft clicking of the mouse, but the atmosphere was suffocating.
I watched his expression grow darker, his jaw clenched tight, a storm gathering in those black eyes—the terrifying calm before the hurricane.
He closed the files and leaned back into his leather chair, fingers drumming once, twice on the desk. His eyes held undisguised, cold murderous intent.
"They're warning me and testing you." He turned to look at me, the sharpness and ice slowly giving way to something far more complex. "Emily, do you understand what it means that you brought this to me today?"
"It means I've chosen a side." I met his gaze. The muddy waters of doubt and fear that had been churning in my heart settled into unprecedented clarity the moment I made this decision. "I don't care if you're the devil himself. Until we've cleared out our common enemies, I'm the sharpest blade in your hand."
Something in Luke's eyes shattered in that instant.
He shot up from his chair, strode over, and yanked me into his arms, holding me so tightly it felt like he wanted to crush me into his very bones.
"You're insane." He buried his face in the crook of my neck, voice hoarse, carrying a tremor even he hadn't noticed. "You're absolutely insane."