Chapter 3 - FOOTPRINTS IN THE LEDGER|
Adrian’s final threat echoed in my mind long after the sound of his scuffling shoes faded down the corridor.
I wasn't the only one who wanted you dead.
Nurse Sarah rushed into the room, checking my oxygen levels and adjusting my IV drip with trembling hands. "The police are downstairs, Hannah. You're safe now."
Safe? I didn't feel safe. The air in the room felt heavier than before.
Before I met Adrian, I worked as a senior forensic accountant for the State Attorney's Office. I spent eight years unraveling complex money-laundering schemes, shell companies, and white-collar fraud. I learned early in my career that human emotions were deceptive, but financial ledgers never lied.
Three months ago, I stumbled upon a discrepancy in our joint trust account. A wire transfer of $250,000 had vanished into a Caribbean offshore account registered under the name Erebus Holdings.
When I questioned Adrian about it, he brushed it off as an investment in a friend's tech startup. But then came his sudden obsession with my life insurance policy.
He had tried to double the payout to five million dollars, convincing himself I wouldn't notice the signature forms tucked between my routine medical release paperwork.
When I confronted him at the top of our spiral staircase, he didn't argue. He just grabbed my wrist, squeezed until my skin turned blue, and pushed.
I remembered the terrifying sensation of falling, the cracking of my bones against the hardwood steps, and the terrifying sight of Adrian standing at the top, watching me bleed without blinking.
"Hannah?" Detective Marcus stepped back into the room, snapping me out of my memory. "We’ve booked Adrian at the precinct. Attempted murder. But we checked the company behind the offshore transfers you flagged."
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I looked at him, my heart quickening. "And?"
Marcus leaned in, his face grim. "Erebus Holdings isn't owned by Adrian. He was just the bagman. The real owner belongs to someone inside your own family."
