Chapter 22 - Shadows of the Past
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Two hours later, I met Naomi Price at an upscale, secluded cafe near the riverfront. The rain was drumming rhythmically against the glass windows while steam rose gently from our porcelain coffee cups. I placed a copy of the first ledger page on the small marble table between us.
Naomi adjusted her wire-rimmed glasses and leaned forward, her sharp eyes scanning the numbers with immediate, professional intensity.
"Where did you get this?" Naomi asked, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"It was delivered to my office this morning by a private courier," I said calmly. "It details a series of shell transactions linked directly to Julian Vance."
Naomi took a slow sip of her cappuccino, setting the cup down with a delicate clink.
"Julian Vance isn't like Owen, Clara," Naomi warned, her expression dead serious.
"Owen was an arrogant, insecure bully who used fists and loud threats because he lacked real intellect. Julian Vance is a predator with three billion dollars, a private security firm, and half the city council in his back pocket."
"I know who Julian Vance is," I replied smoothly.
"He was the man Owen idolized. The man Owen tried to impress by stealing from my personal accounts to fund offshore shell companies."
"If you pull this thread, Clara, Vance will not just try to intimidate you," Naomi said, reaching across the table to lay her hand over mine.
"He will try to erase you completely. He has lawyers who destroy lives for breakfast."
I looked down at our hands, then back into Naomi’s worried eyes. I gave her a small, confident smile that felt completely genuine.
"Let him try," I said softly.
"Owen broke my finger and left a bruise on my thigh that took months to fade. Vance might have billions, but he built his empire on paper. And paper is my language."
Naomi stared at me for a long moment before a slow, proud smile spread across her face.
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"Alright then," Naomi said, pulling a red pen from her jacket pocket.
"Let’s tear his empire down piece by piece."
