Chapter 5
The appearance of the black leather notebook sent a violent shockwave through Giselle’s body. She let out a guttural, choked gasp and lunged forward, her hands clawing desperately toward Elise in a frantic bid to destroy the evidence. She didn't make it halfway across the Persian rug. Nathaniel’s arm shot out with blinding speed, his large, tattooed hand gripping Giselle’s arm with bruising, inescapable force. He shoved her backward effortlessly, sending her crashing back into the heavy bookshelves. Several antique volumes tumbled to the floor around her feet.
Elise did not step back. She remained incredibly polished and steady, flipping the notebook open to a dog-eared page. She held it out directly to Nathaniel.
Nathaniel released Giselle, adjusting his immaculate cuff links before taking the small ledger from Elise. His sharp jaw remained locked as his eyes scanned the handwritten entries. The silence in the study was punctuated only by the ragged, weeping breaths of his fiancée and the soft crackle of the unlit fireplace draft.
Elise spoke quietly, her tone perfectly even. “The ledger details offshore deposits, sir. Exactly four years ago, two days after your children were declared deceased, an account in the Cayman Islands registered a transfer of exactly half a million dollars. Since then, an identical deposit has been made every single year on the twins' birthday. The account belongs to an LLC registered under Miss Voss’s maiden name.”
Nathaniel’s fingers tightened around the leather binding of the book, his knuckles turning white beneath his intricate tattoos. He slowly raised his head, the terrifying stillness of his posture far more dangerous than any outward display of violence. He looked at Giselle, who was now weeping openly, her sculpted satin gown looking rumpled and pathetic as she slid halfway down the wall.
“Why is there a deposit for half a million dollars the day after my children supposedly died, Giselle?”
Giselle shook her head frantically from side to side, her hands covering her face. “It’s not what you think! It’s an investment! It’s just money I had saved before we met, Nathaniel, I swear it!”
Nathaniel flipped a page in the ledger, his eyes reading the meticulous notes written in Giselle’s own unmistakable handwriting.
“Are you truly asking me to believe that a maternity nurse managed to save half a million dollars from her hospital salary?”
“It was an inheritance!” she screamed, her voice cracking under the impossible weight of her own lies.
Nathaniel closed the book with a soft, definitive snap. He walked slowly back to his desk, tossing the ledger carelessly onto the polished wood.
“Why does this ledger contain the contact information for the Volkov syndicate’s chief lieutenant?”
Giselle froze. The color completely drained from her face, leaving her looking like a beautifully dressed corpse. The mention of the Volkov syndicate—the rival mafia family that had been locked in a bloody, brutal war with Nathaniel’s organization for decades—was the final nail in her coffin. Agnes gasped from the armchair, clutching her knitted shawl tightly around her frail shoulders. Elise’s expressive brows furrowed, watching the absolute destruction of the woman who had terrorized the mansion.
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Nathaniel rested his hands on his hips, pushing back his suit jacket. His cold, observant eyes bore into the terrified woman on the floor.
“Did you truly believe the Volkovs could protect you from me?”
