Page 74 of Veil of Secrets

He thought no one would check.

That I wouldn’t check.

Across from me, Elara drops into the chair like she’s ready for another round—not tired, just locked in. Her knees spread slightly, robe still open over her chest, that chain swinging as she leans forward. Not for seduction.

For the truth.

She watches me flip the next page.

Marco’s name appears six times on the fourth line. Wire transfers. Weekly. Disguised under shell business names. All registered to addresses we used last year for runs Vince called “dead leads.”

They weren’t.

I lift another slip. A withdrawal tagged to Vince’s second cousin—guy we buried three months ago. Which means someone’s using dead men to mask cash.

That takes nerve.

That takes arrogance.

“He’s not just talking,” I say finally. “He’s taking payments.”

Elara shifts. “From Marco?”

I nod once.

“Every name, every route we mapped. He sold them.”

Her face doesn’t twist.

Her hands do.

Her fingers curl around the edge of the desk like she’s holding back from flipping it.

“The bastard’s worse than I thought.”

“He’s not sloppy. He’s systematic. This started months ago. Maybe even while you were still under Tommy’s thumb.”

She straightens. That lands. Not personally—strategically.

“He’s always been the one stirring shit from the edges,” she says. “Always smiling like he’s doing you a favor.”

“He almost pulled it off.”

“Not anymore.”

Footsteps in the hall.

Quick. Familiar.

Luca enters, jacket streaked with rain.

He doesn’t knock. Just tosses a file on the desk.

“This just came in from the south docks. Ledger’s stamped with Vince’s old crew.”

I flip it open. Scan fast.

It’s hand-written. Sloppy but clear. Each entry lines up with dates we ran decoys. Vince always said they went quiet.

---