Todos los capítulos de Too Late, Mr. Cross: Capítulo 71 - Capítulo 80

Damian’s POV The file arrived at 8:17 in the morning. I opened the secure link, entered the verification code, and watched the reconstructed banking report load across my screen. There were thirty-two pages. I went straight to the transaction summary. Elena’s company name appeared near the top. I stopped scrolling. For weeks, that account had been the cleanest piece of evidence against her. Dormant company. Large deposit. Transfer out within hours. Recipient connected to one of Cross Group’s competitors. On paper, it looked like someone using an old company she believed nobody was watching, moving money through it, then sending the money directly to people who stood to gain from damage to Cross. I had hated how convincing it looked. I had hated even more that Elena had no explanation for it. The forensic team had warned me that the first records were incomplete. They wanted time to reconstruct the transfer chain using the bank’s archived authorization logs, internal routing

Michael’s POVElena had started keeping her phone away. She no longer left it charging on the kitchen counter while she showered.I was standing beside the dining table when she came downstairs, one hand holding her bag and the other holding her tablet. “You are leaving early?”“I have a meeting.”“At Williams?”“Yes.”“With Thomas?”"Yes."“Elena.”She looked up. “What?”“You answered three questions with one word each.”“I am trying to leave.”“That explains the efficiency.”She adjusted the strap on her bag. “You have meetings too.”“I do.”“Then we are both very important.”I smiled. “You are more recently.”“That sounds bitter.”“It was admiration.”She turned toward the door.I watched her reach for the handle.“Will you be home for dinner?”She hesitated. “I’m not sure.”“With the board?”“Probably.”Elena had never been good at lying. She had become careful with insignificant details and vague about the important ones.“Should I order something?”“Don’t wait for me.”I kept m

Elena’s POV I found the purchase agreement because one of the old company names had been misspelled. That was the kind of mistake people ignored when they were looking for something important. I had been reviewing the files connected to Maison Elena for almost two hours, cross-checking dates against the period Damian believed I had been using my business to interfere with Cross Group. Most of the documents were familiar enough to irritate me before I opened them. The licensing dispute finished what the first three had started; then I noticed the spelling. Elena Maison Holdings. My company had never been registered under that name. I opened the document. The agreement concerned intellectual property associated with Maison Elena, including several archived designs, an unfinished accessories line, two trademark applications, and proprietary manufacturing patterns I had developed before Damian forced the company into collapse. The buyer was listed as North Meridian Ventures. I che

Damian’s POV “The calls are mapped against every major accusation we reopened.” Ethan placed the printed timeline beside my laptop and kept one hand on the folder rather than sitting down. “I had communications run it twice because the first pattern looked too deliberate.” “Start with the earliest one and do not interpret anything for me.” I pulled the timeline closer. “I want dates, numbers, and verified records.” “That is exactly what I brought.” Ethan took the chair opposite mine. “The oldest relevant contact happened five years ago, two days before the Carrington acquisition file was compromised.” The page had been divided into three columns. Rosalie’s number, a Henderson-controlled private line, and the event that followed. I read the first row. There were two calls; the first lasted seven minutes, then the second lasted nineteen. That morning Rosalie had arrived earlier at Cross with information suggesting Elena had been asking questions about Carrington’s acquisition st

Elena’s POV “Please tell me you haven’t opened social media yet.” Clara’s voice came through my phone before I had finished saying hello. I stopped halfway through signing the document in front of me. “That depends entirely on why you’re asking.” “Then don’t open anything until I get upstairs.” Papers rustled on her end. “Evelyn is with me, and Thomas already knows.” My pen remained above the signature line. “Knows what?” Clara hesitated, that was when I reached for my tablet. “Elena, just wait until I get upstairs.” The headline appeared before she finished. WILLIAMS HEIRESS PREGNANT WITH BILLIONAIRE EX-HUSBAND’S CHILD AMID CROSS GROUP FINANCING CRISIS For several seconds, I read the words without understanding why they belonged together. Then I opened the article. There was a photograph of Damian outside Cross Group. Another of me leaving Williams headquarters. Below them sat a paragraph describing my pregnancy as an “undisclosed personal connection” that could raise qu