At 8:47 the next morning, Daniel called me.

I watched his name flash across my screen until it stopped.

Then he called again.

And again.

At 8:55, a message appeared.

WHAT DID YOU DO?

I smiled.

Nothing he hadn’t forced me to do.

At nine sharp, the emergency shareholders’ meeting began.

Daniel arrived with two attorneys.

Clara wasn’t with him.

Apparently, answering questions about stolen jewelry had ruined her morning.

Daniel walked directly toward me.

—Withdraw the complaint.

—Good morning to you too.

—You recorded us illegally.

My lawyer answered before I could.

—The camera was installed inside Ms. Valdés’ private office, monitoring her personal safe after previous property disappeared. Your concerns can be addressed through counsel.

Daniel’s face tightened.

Then he looked around the boardroom.

—This meeting is pointless. Elena controls forty-six percent. I still have thirty-nine. The remaining shareholders won’t support her.

I opened my folder.

—You’re right.

Relief flickered across his face.

So I continued.

—I don’t have a majority.

The door opened.

Three investors entered.

Daniel recognized the first one immediately.

His former CFO, Martín Salazar.

Daniel had fired him two years earlier after Martín questioned several unexplained consulting payments.

The second was Celia Romero, founder of an investment fund Daniel had unsuccessfully tried to court for months.

The third man placed a proxy authorization on the table.

Together, they controlled another nine percent.

Daniel slowly sat down.

Fifty-five percent.

That was Plan B.

Not destroying Ferrer Group.

Taking control away from the man who had forgotten who helped build it.

The board secretary cleared his throat.

“The shareholders have requested an immediate vote concerning the presidency pending an independent financial review.”

Daniel laughed.

“You’re removing me because I ended an engagement?”

“No,” I said.

I pushed another folder across the table.

“We’re suspending you because someone moved company funds through four vendors that appear to have no employees, no offices and no legitimate work product.”

His expression changed.

That was the first moment I knew he hadn’t expected me to find those.

Martín opened the audit.

Over eighteen months, almost twelve million euros had left Ferrer Group.

Daniel leaned back.

“Those were strategic consulting expenses.”

“Then you’ll have no problem explaining them.”

One company was registered to Clara’s cousin.

Another shared an address with Daniel’s private attorney.

A third had paid for the apartment where Clara had been living.

And the fourth?

That one made everyone quiet.

It had purchased Ferrer Group shares.

Quietly.

Month after month.

Someone had been using company money to accumulate ownership in the company itself through an outside entity.

Daniel stared at the page.

For the first time, he looked genuinely confused.

—That’s not mine.

I studied him.

I had expected denial.

But not that kind.

Martín noticed too.

—Daniel, who had access to your executive authorization?

He didn’t answer.

His eyes shifted toward the empty chair beside him.

Clara’s chair.

At 9:23, Daniel received a call.

He rejected it.

It rang again.

My lawyer’s phone rang next.

She answered, listened for several seconds, then looked directly at me.

“Clara has requested representation.”

Daniel stood.

“For what?”

My lawyer ignored him.

“She says she has evidence that the ring incident was not the first time Mr. Ferrer asked her to enter Elena’s office.”

The room erupted.

Daniel slammed his hand against the table.

“She’s lying!”

I remained seated.

Because suddenly I remembered something.

Six months earlier, confidential acquisition documents had disappeared from my office for two days.

Daniel had blamed a junior analyst.

The analyst was fired.

The documents mysteriously returned.

At the time, I believed him.

Now I didn’t.

My lawyer continued.

“Clara also claims Daniel instructed her to photograph shareholder agreements, personal investment records and correspondence between Elena and outside investors.”

I looked at Daniel.

“You weren’t trying to get rid of me because you loved Clara.”

Silence.

“You were trying to learn how much of the company I controlled.”

He shook his head.

“Elena, listen to me.”

“No.”

For six years, I had listened.

That morning, he could listen.

The vote passed.

Daniel Ferrer was suspended as president pending investigation.

His company access was revoked before he left the room.

At 10:14, security escorted him from the building he had once believed belonged entirely to him.

But the real surprise came twenty minutes later.

Martín entered my new office carrying a laptop.

“We’ve identified the beneficial owner of the shell company buying Ferrer shares.”

I expected Clara.

Daniel.

Maybe one of their relatives.

Instead, Martín turned the screen toward me.

The company controlled fourteen percent.

Not six.

Not eight.

Fourteen.

Enough that, combined with my forty-six percent, whoever controlled it could decide the future of Ferrer Group with me.

I read the registered beneficiary.

Then read it again.

My hands went cold.

That person wasn’t supposed to own anything.

According to everything I had been told, he had sold his shares and disappeared from business fifteen years earlier.

My father.

The man Daniel claimed had never supported our relationship.

The man who died believing Ferrer Group had cheated him out of his original investment.

And attached to the ownership record was a letter addressed to me.

Written three weeks before his death.

I opened it.

The first sentence said:

Elena, if Daniel ever tries to force you out of Ferrer Group, do not fight him for his company. Make him discover that it was never his company to begin with.