Bound by Contract, Freed by Love のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 91 - チャプター 97

Dominic's POVI walked into the boardroom with the warrant packet under my arm. The room smelled like coffee and leather. The directors were already seated. Faces I had known for years looked up at me.“Good morning,” I said. My voice was flat.“You’re early,” Mara said.“Time matters,” I said. I set the packet on the table and opened it. Percival stood beside me with a thin stack of sealed notes. He nodded once.“I will present the operational plan,” I said. “Navarro will lead the tactical timeline. Corbin will brief on the technical evidence. Percival will explain the legal steps for preservation.”“Start,” Laurens said. His hand tapped the table in a small, restless rhythm.I walked through it. I spoke in short lines. “We have probable cause for a search. The warehouse holds courier manifests and storage crates tied to trustee routing. We will seize electronic devices and physical ledgers. We will preserve chains of custody. We will ask the judge for sealed review. We will request

Elena's POVI left the hospital later than I planned. The parking lot lights were tired and yellow. My bag was heavy. My legs were heavier.“Drive safe,” the night nurse said at the entrance. She smiled like she did not know the world had its teeth out.“I will,” I said. I kept my keys in my fist. I kept my head down.I had not planned to take the back lane. I took it because it was quieter. My phone buzzed once and I ignored it. The sound would only make my pulse louder.A shadow moved behind me. I heard steps that matched my steps. I stopped and waited. The steps slowed too.“Hello?” I called. My voice sounded small in the lot.No answer. The steps came closer. My chest tightened. I told myself it was just someone heading to their car. I told myself not to think worst.Two hands hit my shoulders from the sides. A rough cloth covered a face. A voice was muffled near my ear. I smelled sweat and cheap cologne.“No,” I said. I tried to pull back. My bag snagged the door of the car.One

Percival's POVI was still at my desk when Corbin knocked and pushed a tablet toward me. He did not smile. He never smiled at evidence.“Read this,” he said.I looked at the screen and tasted coffee. The email chain was small and ugly. Short lines. Dates. Burner addresses. A string that started with a throwaway account and threaded into directives.“Where did you pull this?” I asked.“The router mirrors and seized drives,” he said. “We found outgoing SMTP headers that matched the aggregator hops. I lifted the bounce and followed the relay. It terminates at a nominee address but the mail headers show a handoff with Voss’s company on the same day as the last smear blast.”I read the messages. They were clipped. One line: meet handler. Another: move funds to trustee channel seven. Another: make her invisible. The language was not poetic. It was business.“This is the correspondence tying money and direction,” I said slowly.“Exactly,” Corbin said. “Not a smoking gun by itself, but it bui