PART 2
The instant Julian and the brunette disappeared into the parking garage, I stepped out from behind the pillar.
My fear was gone.
In its place was something colder and far more useful: clarity.
I sat down at a café inside the airport, opened my laptop, and called Marcus Vance, my late father’s former business partner. Marcus was a senior corporate attorney who had known me since childhood and had always treated me like family.
“Clara?” he answered. “Is something wrong?”
“Julian is attempting a fraudulent asset transfer,” I said. “I recorded him discussing plans to empty my accounts, take control of my house, and file for divorce once the money was moved.”
Marcus fell silent for several seconds.
Then his voice shifted.
“Did you sign the company documents he brought home?”
“Who do those belong to?” Clara asked evenly, raising the shoes.
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