Chapter 4 - The Forensic Ledger of Gabriel Moretti
Gabriel Moretti, the forensic accountant, walked toward the center of the ballroom where the large projection screen had been set up to display architectural blueprints of the Cole family's proposed projects.
Without asking for permission, Gabriel removed the HDMI cable from Adrian’s laptop and plugged it directly into an encrypted military-grade tablet.
“Adrian,” Gabriel said calmly, tapping the glass screen. “Before this party concludes, our family felt it was appropriate to review your corporate portfolio with your distinguished guests.”
The sixty-foot LED screen illuminated with blinding clarity.
Instead of tunnel blueprints, the screen displayed high-resolution bank statements, encrypted email threads, and time-stamped surveillance photos.
“What is that? Turn that off!” Adrian screamed, lunging toward the stage.
Dominic simply took half a step forward, placing one broad hand against Adrian’s chest. The impact stopped Adrian in his tracks as if he had run into a reinforced concrete wall.
“Watch the presentation, Adrian,” Dominic whispered into his ear.
Gabriel clicked to the first slide:
The Offshore Siphon: Over the past eight months, Adrian Cole had authorized twenty-four fraudulent wire transfers totaling $4.2 million from the payroll escrow accounts of Cole Construction into an entity called Vanguard Luxe LLC.
The Registered Owner: Vanguard Luxe LLC was registered in Delaware under the sole ownership of Miss Vanessa Hart.
The Expenses: The funds had been spent on luxury penthouses in Miami, chartered private jets to Saint-Tropez, and an extensive collection of Harry Winston diamond jewelry.
Gasps rippled across the fifty high-society guests. Several city commissioners immediately moved away from Richard, whispering furiously into their phones.
Vanessa’s silk wrap slipped from her trembling shoulders, pooling onto the floor around her designer shoes. Her flawless makeup seemed to disintegrate under the harsh glare of the monitors.
“Adrian... you told me those accounts were completely untraceable!” Vanessa shrieked in panic, completely forgetting the room full of witnesses.
May you like
“Shut up, Vanessa!” Adrian wailed, running his hands through his styled hair, sweat pouring down his forehead onto his collar.
“They were untraceable to amateur auditors, Adrian,” Gabriel remarked with clinical detachment. “They were not untraceable to the Department of Justice Task Force, who received a mirrored copy of this file twenty minutes ago.”
