Bound by Contract, Freed by Love のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

Percival's POVI opened my laptop and stared at the draft like it owed me money. The war room smelled of coffee and printer ink. Corbin tapped a list on his tablet. James from PR had three versions of the same sentence. Dominic sat with his hands folded. Ms. Alvarez paced once and then stopped.“All right,” I said. “We have to make the public line tight, legal, and unassailable. No detail. No speculation.”“What do we want it to say?” James asked. He had that worried excitement reporters get when they think they can shape the story.“Three points,” I said. “We cooperate with authorities. We cannot comment on sealed proceedings. We prioritize witness safety. Everything else invites risk.”James typed fast. “Draft one: Blackwood Industries is cooperating fully with law enforcement. We cannot comment on sealed proceedings. We are taking steps to protect witnesses and staff.” He read it aloud.“Good,” I said. “Shorten the second sentence. Replace cannot with will not. Make it active voice

Dominic's POVI walked into the war room and shut the door. Percival was already there, standing by the whiteboard with a marker in his hand. Ms. Alvarez sat at the table with a stack of sealed pages. Corbin had a laptop open and Reyes was on speaker, voice low and steady.“Good,” Percival said. “We have to be tidy. This is about contingency, not panic.”“I want options,” I said. “If the foreign indictment leads to extradition requests or civil suits, I want a scoped plan for each front. No surprises.”Percival nodded. “We built that. We broke things into criminal extradition, domestic civil exposure, regulatory risk, asset freezes, and reputational fallout. We also included parallel preservation tasks and witness safety layers.”“Talk to me in plain words,” I said. “What are the worst-case triggers and what do we do first?”Ms. Alvarez set the sealed packet down and spoke with the exact calm she uses in court. “First: extradition. If a foreign prosecutor seeks your extradition, they

Elena's POVI left the office early with no grand plan. I felt small in my coat and I wanted to be where the work began. The neighborhood clinic sat three blocks from my building. It smelled like antiseptic and warm bread from the bakery next door. I pushed through the glass door and felt the air change.“Ms. Hart?” Nurse Aya called when she saw me. Her smile was quick and real. “We did not expect you today.”“I needed to see you,” I said. “Is this a bad time?”“For us?” she asked. “Never. Come, sit. Patients are in a good mood today.” She led me past the waiting room where a grandmother knitted and a boy with a cast scribbled superheroes. The television murmured a morning show. I felt oddly calmer already.We stopped by the intake desk. “They asked about you,” Aya said. “They wanted to say thanks.”“They did?” I asked. I tried to keep my voice light.“You should meet Mr. Kane first,” she said. “He talks about you like you saved his life.”Mr. Kane sat by the window. He had thin hair

Elena's POVI had just sat down with a cup of coffee when Navarro called. His voice through the secure line was flat and quick.“Elena,” he said. “We need to talk.”“What happened?” I asked. The mug warmed my fingers. I tried to keep my voice steady.“A board member has been meeting reporters,” he said. “Quietly. Off the record. He’s feeding narratives designed to weaken Dominic’s position.”“Which board member?” I asked.“I’m not naming him over this line,” Navarro said. “Not yet. We are still tracing the contacts. I wanted you to hear it first because of your role in the case.”“You think it’s Marcellus?” I said.“Not directly,” he answered. “Marcellus has allies. Someone inside the company is guiding the conversation. It looks coordinated. It smells like a pressure campaign.”I sat very still. The kitchen clock ticked. I had not slept well. The board meeting I had seen in the papers felt different now. It was not just business. It was a hunt.“Is Elena safe?” Navarro asked, and I r

Percival's POVI arrived at the office before dawn. The city was quiet and the coffee machine was loud. I set my bag down and opened the file on the desk. The warehouse evidence needed a legal frame. I needed warrants, affidavits, and clean chains of custody.Corbin was already at his screen. He did not look surprised to see me. He had that steady look that said he had been up all night.“Good morning,” I said.“You look tired,” he said without turning.“Would you believe it’s only nine?” I asked.He snorted. “No. Not at all.”I sat and spread the folders. “Read me the surveillance timeline,” I said.Corbin pulled up the tablet and flicked to the logs. “Movements at the hub started picking up two weeks ago,” he said. “Courier routing spikes at odd hours. We saw transfers at 02:00 and 04:15. Vehicle clusters match the ledger timestamps.”“Any names?” I asked.“Not yet,” he said. “Just burner pings and vendor hops. But the pattern repeats.”“Good,” I said. I wrote notes. The judge would