“Because you refused to listen,” Isabella replied evenly. “Every time I warned you something felt wrong, you dismissed it. You believed loyalty was protection. I needed someone who could look without sentiment.”
Elena gestured toward the papers. “Large sums are missing. Transfers that don’t match expenses. Authorizations you never approved. Someone is draining funds through shell accounts tied to the charity division. They know the system well enough to copy your signature.”
Nathaniel stared at the documents. “Who did this?” he asked quietly.
Isabella hesitated. Then said the name. “Julian Cross.”
The words hit like a blow. Julian—his closest advisor, his friend since college, the man he trusted without question. “No,” Nathaniel said. “That’s impossible.”
“He’s already filed for temporary control of the company,” Isabella replied. “Claiming you’re mentally unfit.”
At that moment, the door opened again. Harold Whitman, the family attorney, entered with a grim expression. “It’s true,” he said. “The hearing is in three hours. If he succeeds, you could lose everything.”
Nathaniel felt the room tilt. “How did I miss this?”
“You trusted the wrong person,” Harold said quietly.