Chapter 6
Victor’s confidence finally cracked.
Not completely.
Enough.
“It’s a security holding company.”
The accountant shook his head.
“It received proceeds from three private sales.”
Anthony’s eyes became still.
“Sales of what?”
No one answered.
The accountant did.
“Watches matching the serial numbers of three missing originals.”
Marcia turned on Victor.
“You sold them?”
Victor’s voice sharpened.
“Don't act surprised.”
“I am surprised.”
“You wanted cash.”
Her face changed.
Anthony noticed.
“So Marcia knew money was needed.”
Victor smiled.
“Now we're being honest.”
Marcia’s hand tightened around her brooch.
“Our old family-support accounts were running short.”
Anthony looked at her.
“Which accounts?”
She stared back.
“The widow fund.”
Silence.
For decades, the Vescari family had privately supported widows and children of deceased members.
Anthony had moved those payments into legitimate trusts and documented programs.
Marcia hated the transition.
She believed formal oversight made the family weak and exposed.
“There were gaps,” she said.
Anthony’s jaw tightened.
“You were told to report gaps.”
“You wanted forms.”
“I wanted records.”
“You wanted bureaucracy.”
Victor jumped in.
“So I solved it.”
Anthony slowly turned.
“You stole watches.”
“I moved assets.”
“You sold family property you did not own.”
Victor’s voice hardened.
“To keep promises you abandoned.”
That motive landed harder because part of it was true.
Anthony’s restructuring had created delays.
Not abandonment.
But families had waited for payments.
Marcia had complained.
Victor had stepped in.
At first.
Laurel watched Anthony absorb the accusation.
His fingers moved once against his wristwatch.
Victor saw it and pushed harder.
“You wanted clean books.”
A bitter smile.
“I kept people fed.”
Anthony looked at him.
“And then?”
Victor stopped.
There it was.
The first sales may have supported old obligations.
The later ones had not.
The accountant continued.
“Only twenty-eight percent of proceeds went to support accounts.”
Marcia’s head turned.
Victor’s face hardened.
“Where did the rest go?” Anthony asked.
The accountant opened another report.
Investment entities.
Private debt.
Political consulting.
Personal loans.
And large unexplained cash withdrawals.
Victor’s hands closed.
Anthony’s gaze became colder.
“You started by telling yourself you were protecting families.”
Victor said nothing.
“And then you discovered theft feels noble when the first excuse is good enough.”
Victor’s jaw flexed.
Marcia looked genuinely sick.
Then the accountant added:
“There’s another issue.”
One of the sale authorizations carried Anthony’s own signature.
May you like
Anthony stared at it.
The signature was real.
