Bound by Contract, Freed by Love のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 61 - チャプター 70

Elena's POVI woke before dawn with the taste of coffee and paper in my mouth. The folder with the exhibits sat on the kitchen table like a small promise. I boiled water and made tea. My hands were steadyer than they felt.Ms. Alvarez arrived at eight. She wore a plain coat and a look I trusted. She did not smile. She set her bag down and opened it like a folder of ceremonies.“You slept?” she asked.“A little,” I said. “Not much.”“Good,” she said. “We have one hour. We run through the timeline, file names, and three short answers that will anchor you if the room spins.”She laid out a pad and three pens. “Keep your answers short,” she said. “One-sentence facts. If they ask why you did something, say counsel advised preservation. If they pry into private life, say it is irrelevant. Do not explain. Do not speculate.”I nodded. The words had become muscle in my throat. I wanted them to be true in my mouth as much as in my head.We started with the basics. She asked, “State your name fo

Percival's POVI started the morning with a cup of coffee that had gone cold. The defense had filed overnight. That is how these fights come: quiet until a sharp hand reaches into the record and tries to pull something loose.I opened the filing and read it twice. Then I called Laurent.“They want full device images,” I said when he picked up. “They asked for emails, phones, drafts—everything Elena ever touched. They cite relevance to credibility. It’s a broad sweep.”Laurent sighed. “They are casting a net. Typical. They hope we’ll panic and overproduce.”“Then we don’t panic,” I said. “We move fast and tight. Draft a motion to quash. Keep it narrow. Argue proportionality and privilege. Also draft a backup protective order motion in case the judge orders limited production.”“I’ll start now,” he said. “I’ll have a draft in an hour.”I hung up and called Ms. Alvarez.“They filed broad subpoenas,” I said. “We need motions to quash and protective orders ready.”“Good,” she said. “Also p

Dominic's POVThe call came at noon. My phone buzzed in my hand while I was still at the conference table. Percival had just finished a point about liquidity and the room was quiet for a second. I saw his finger lift, the way he always signals something needs attention, and I answered.“This is Navarro,” Reyes said on the line before I heard Navarro’s voice. The connection clicked and Navarro spoke in his clipped way. “Mr. Blackwood. We have a judge’s order. We moved on the provisional freezes. Correspondent lines identified in your packet are on hold as of eleven-oh-two. We began preservation steps five minutes after.”I closed my eyes for one count. “You moved?” I asked. My voice sounded small in the boardroom.“Yes,” Navarro said. “We had probable cause from the packet and the affidavits. We coordinated with our financial unit and with partner banks. We issued preservation notices and provisional freezes on specific correspondents. We have immediate copies of the preservation order

Elena's POVI took the taxi to the safe house feeling as if I carried my chest in my hands. The address was a nondescript building in a quiet street. Corbin met me at the door. He checked his phone, then looked up with that small, businesslike nod he gives when things are okay for now.“He’s ready,” he said.I smoothed my palms on my coat and followed him inside. The living room smelled faintly of detergent and tea. The man I had met at the clinic — Mr. Harrow — sat on the couch with his hands folded. He looked smaller in the safe light. He blinked when I entered, like he had been waiting for someone to decide if the world would be kind.“Hello,” I said. My voice sounded raw in my own ears. I sat down on the armchair across from him because it felt less dramatic than standing.“Harrow?” I asked, and he nodded. “I’m Elena.”“You’re Elena,” he said. His voice had that cigarette rasp I remembered. He smiled the smallest, surprised smile. “You came.”“I did,” I said. “I promised to come b

Percival's POVI started the affidavit at midnight. The office was quiet and the coffee was gone cold on my desk. Corbin had already sent the raw packets and the traceroutes. I read them once, twice, then opened a new document and wrote plain facts.“I am counsel for Blackwood Industries,” I wrote. Then I listed the sequence Corbin gave me: brute-force attempts, the thirty-seven-second session, the file reads, the attempted outbound forward, the proxy hops. I attached MD5 and SHA hashes. I attached the preserved image of the accessed file. I kept the language small and legal. Judges like that at odd hours.Ms. Alvarez came in with tea and that look she gets when it’s a night matter. “Keep it tight,” she said. “No drama. Facts and remedies. Judges move faster on short sentences.”“I will,” I said.Corbin leaned over my shoulder. “Add the exact header for the forward attempt,” he said. “Time stamp it. Put the proxy chain in an exhibit. Make the timeline clear.”I typed the line. The pac