So when this angry, traumatized girl found you in Geneva, you saw your exit strategy.”
I picked up the district court document from the metal tray, held it by the corner, and tore it in half.
Rrrripp.
Then in quarters.
Rrrripp.
I let the white scraps flutter down onto the polished floor like dry leaves.
“You fed her the lie about her father,” I said.“You helped her stage the beating.
You gave her the timing on the bus stop, the scripts for Garrett, the coordinates for the municipal cameras.
You let her take eight strikes from a three-iron to her ribs so the medical reports would look catastrophic enough to bring me out of retirement.
Because you knew that only Vesper had the clearance codes to trigger the emergency seizure protocols without a twelve-month grand jury investigation.”
Julian took a slow, deliberate breath, his aristocratic facade hardening into something ugly, desperate, and sharp.
