Chapter 3: The Cellar Witness
"Ten years, Julian," the woman said, her voice carrying across the silent ballroom. "Ten years spent in the dark, watching you climb the ladder of success using the insurance money from a fire you started."
The guests were paralyzed. The DJ had killed the music, and the only sound was the distant hum of the air conditioning. The woman took a step closer, and Julian stumbled back, hitting the tiered wedding cake.
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"You didn't just lock the cellar door that night to save yourself from a scandal," she continued, her voice gaining strength. "You locked it because you knew I had found the ledger. The one that proved you were laundering money for the Vane syndicate long before you inherited your father's firm."
She pulled a small, digital recorder from her apron pocket. It wasn't just a cleaning tool; it was a digital vault. "And I wasn't alone in that cellar. I had a camera pointed at the door. I have you on tape, Julian. I have the sound of the deadbolt sliding home."
