Chapter 22

Golden dusk spilled over the highway overlook as police escorted Kael and Reeve away, the old mobile phone with the critical sabotage footage secured in an evidence bag. Caelum and I rode back toward the city in an unmarked vehicle, our hands resting loosely together on the seat between us. The memory of our earnest stairwell kiss lingered softly; neither of us rushed for another, both knowing we still needed to wrap up official business before letting our feelings take full centre‑stage.

Ms. Hale called over the car’s secure speaker. “The board has scheduled a special morning session tomorrow. They want to review the new footage and Kael’s formal statement before ruling whether your marriage and inheritance claim are valid. Also — Diana just received a private message from someone calling themselves ‘the former finance coordinator’; they say they hold an overlooked set of internal ledgers.”

“Another witness?” I asked, sitting up straighter. “We thought every key player was either caught or ready to testify.”

“They claim they weren’t part of the crash‑night plot,” Hale explained. “Only that they discovered suspicious Lira‑fund transfers three years ago and hid copies out of fear. They’ll only hand the ledgers over in‑person at the tower’s quiet rooftop garden after tonight’s regular staff leave.”

We agreed to meet them there once we’d checked in at the penthouse. When we arrived back at Vance Tower, we found Rowan waiting in the lobby; Diana had gone to the police station to give a supplementary statement about the night of the crash. Elias remained recovering in hospital, sending a short, hopeful voice‑note saying he felt stronger and ready to give his full official testimony the next day.

After a quick, light dinner in the penthouse kitchen, Caelum and I headed up to the rooftop garden. String lights glowed softly above planters of lavender and climbing roses; the city spread out far below, its lights beginning to twinkle. At first the space appeared empty — until a slim, middle‑aged woman stepped out from behind a large oak‑leaf maple planter. She clutched a locked leather folder tight against her chest.

“I’m Lena Marlow,” she said quietly. “Senior finance coordinator until I took early‑stress‑leave two‑and‑a‑half‑years ago. I stumbled across payments going to unknown recipients tagged ‘Lira’ — long before public rumours about Gideon’s schemes began.”

She set the folder on a stone bench and unlocked it. Inside were printed spreadsheets and scanned bank slips showing regular outgoing payments stretching back twelve years — earlier than any record we’d found before.

“Most go to Kael, Mara and Reeve,” Lena said, pointing down one column. “But look at the last entry, dated six weeks before your father’s accident, Caelum. There’s a payment to a name none of us have seen: Clara Vance.”

Caelum froze. “That can’t be. Clara was my father’s younger sister — she moved overseas twenty‑five years ago and rarely contacted the family.”

“According to these records, she was receiving monthly sums right up until a few months ago,” Lena replied. “I never understood why. I only kept copies because I worried I’d be blamed if the irregularities came to light.”

My stomach tightened. We’d assumed the conspiracy circle only included Gideon, Mara, Kael, Reeve and Elias. Now there was a Vance family member we’d never suspected receiving secret Lira‑fund money.

Caelum pulled out his phone to ask Ms. Hale to run an emergency background check on Clara. Moments later Hale called back, sounding surprised.

“Sir — official overseas‑residence records are faked. Clara has been living in a small apartment on the edge of this city the entire past decade. She kept herself hidden from everyone, including you.”

Just then, a quiet footstep sounded behind us. We spun around. A woman in her late‑fifties stood near the garden’s metal exit gate, her dark hair streaked with grey, watching us calmly. It was Clara.

“I saw you come up,” she said in a steady voice. “I’ve waited years to know when the truth would finally start unravelling.”

“Were you part of the plan to harm my father?” Caelum asked, keeping his tone controlled though tension sharpened his gaze.

Clara shook her head, sitting slowly on the stone bench beside the ledger folder. “No. But I knew Gideon was plotting. He found out I’d argued bitterly with my brother — your father — over company shares decades ago. He began paying me hush‑money to stay hidden and say nothing, threatening to plant evidence that I’d helped sabotage the car if I spoke up.”

She pulled a small memory‑stick from her pocket. “I didn’t dare approach anyone openly. This holds recorded conversations between Gideon and an old board ally, discussing how to frame me if needed. I kept it hoping one day someone would get close enough to the truth for me to hand it over safely.”

Before we could respond, Caelum’s phone buzzed with an urgent police alert: “Kael has just asked to add something new to his statement — he says on crash night he spotted a second unknown vehicle, registered under a Vance‑family name.”

We exchanged a shocked look. Could that vehicle have belonged to Clara? Or was there still another hidden person connected to the family waiting to be revealed before tomorrow’s critical board vote?